FEATURES 16 Married and in the Closet Jodi Shaw, The Navigator (Malispina University College) NANAIMO, B.C. (CUP)—“T have a right to be happy, don't I?” Brady* asks. I nod. “Of course.” At the table, we drink coffee and share a salad. “You're not wearing your wedding ring.” He looks down at his hand, then back at me. “Well, you know, marriage is tough.” And for Brady, it probably is. Very tough—after all, he is married to a woman. Brady and I met when I was still in high school. He frequented the restaurant I worked at and was friends with my friend David.* In October 2000, David, who is “very gay,” invited me to a party at his apartment. “Ts it going to be a bunch of fags and me?” I asked. David laughed. “A bunch of fags, Brady, and you.” “Brady?” “He's not a fag, if you ask him,” David replied. Until this point, I had known Brady for a year and had no idea he was gay. Months later, Brady confided in me. He told me he didn't want anyone to know, he did- n't want to be treated like “one of them.” In 1969, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau decriminal- ized homosexuality. Since then, homosexuals have been fighting to be treated as equals; they want to get mar- ried. In June 2005, Bill C-38, which legalizes gay mar- riage nationwide, was passed by a 47 to 21 vote. The same-sex marriage controversy climaxed shortly after, when the House of Commons made Canada the third country to legalize same-sex marriage with a vote of 158 to 133. “T was relieved,” Brady tells me. “It gives people the chance to love who they want to love and marry who they want to marry. That doesn't mean it will be easy, though.” The legalization of gay marriage provides options that Brady didn't have when he got married two years ago. Brady met his wife, Laura* at a church barbecue and they immediately became friends. Brady's parents weren't shy—at 27 he should be thinking about settling down and starting a family—and they really liked Laura. “My family is Christian, my wife's family is Christian. They have strong beliefs,” Brady says. He lowers his voice and leans towards me. “I rejoined the church a few years ago because I too have strong beliefs. I believe in being a good person and that God loves all his people. Even gays.” “Do they know?” I ask. Brady laughs, “Of course not. And they wouldn't accept it either.” I'm not so sure—Brady's parents, whom I met sev- eral years ago at his birthday barbecue, are warm, friendly, and love their son. “T heard them talk (about Bill C-38). I know how they feel about (homosexuality): It's abnormal. It's per- verted, a sin.”” Brady tells me that his entire family strongly oppos- es same-sex marriage because it threatens the “tradition- al definition of marriage” and goes against everything that is “natural.” “They're not rude or vulgar about it. They don't say ‘fag’ or 'queer'—but they don't think homosexuals can or should have families. If you can't procreate, you can't marty.” Brady reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wal- let. He opens it on the table. “My father thinks (homo- sexuals) can't parent because (homosexuals) don't know their (gender) roles, they don't fit into a family.” He smiles and pulls a picture out of his wallet. “If only he knew,” he says and shows me a picture of his 19- month-old child. “He thinks I'm a great father.” “When I heard you got married, I was surprised.” I look at him across the table, bite back a smile, and whisper, “I was like 'that silly homo, what's he doing with a girl?” Thankfully, my attempt to get a laugh out of him is successful. Brady doesn't fit the stereotype of a gay male. Rather, he fits the stereotype of what is male—he likes cars, sports, beer, and working out. He started questioning his sexuality in high school. He played sports, was popular, and always had girls hanging around. He had a few girlfriends, but they never worked out. “I thought it was that our personalities just didn't mesh,” he says. “Now I know it was because they had the wrong body parts.” No one has ever questioned his 'maleness' or his sexuality—except for himself. “I've always been a man, but I've always been (gay). It's nice to talk to someone who knows.” “Your wife?” I ask, thinking the obvious. “How can she not know?” “Our marriage is a fraud. She really loves me, I can feel it. It makes it worse. Reminds me everyday that while I love her, I don't love her the way I should. The way she thinks I do.” He tells me about his child, who is “growing amaz- ingly fast” and how incredible fatherhood is. “It changes everything. (My child) matters more to me than anything ever could. We're actually expecting another.” I don't react. “T know,” he says. “It's the right thing to do.” I know what he means. He means the right thing to do is to preserve the “traditional definition of mar- riage” even if it means denying himself. I beg to differ. But, as he reminds me, I am not in his shoes and I don't know what it's like. Baptized and raised Christian, Brady struggled for most of his life with his feelings and desires. Preserving the “traditional definition of marriage” is key to the argument against same-sex mat- riage. Homosexual relationships and: marriages are a threat to the culturally constructed notion of marriage—that marriage is intended for procreation, is a life-long com- mitment, and is “one man, one woman.” “Divorce, adultery, and infertility threaten the tradi- tional definition more than gays getting married,” I say. “Maybe divorce should be illegal.” “I suppose,” Brady says. He shifts in his seat, frus- trated. “But I can't change the way people feel—the way people would react if they knew—I don't want to lose my family.” “T wish I didn't know,” I say. Other than myself, there are only three people Brady has confided in. “You should be crazy in love and married to a man.” “T have a right to be happy, don't I?” he says. “Of course.” “Tf I go, I'm going to be that man that abandoned his wife and child. Children. I know that if I stay, I'm abandoning a part of myself. I love (my child) and my wife is wonderful. I know I'm lying to her and to my family...” We don't discuss it any further. Brady and I finish our visit, hug, and promise to keep in touch, thankful that we stumbled into each other. He heads back to Victoria. In a few days, he'll fly home to his wife and child, where his public life presides; his inner life remains a secret. * Names have been changed.