It’s official. I am domestically registered to my partner in St. Petersburg. That has a strange ring to it, doesn’t it?
Since moving within the city limits in 2006, the local government officially classified us as cohabitants or roommates. Now that we’ve registered, we are officially more than that. I expected to feel overjoyed with our new status, sharing the news with friends and family and resting comfortably knowing that as a couple, we are granted a handful of rights that will protect us in an unpredictable future.
But that’s not how I feel, despite recognizing this significant step for St. Petersburg and many other cities across the state which have implemented their own registries.
On Aug. 8, a week after the City of St. Petersburg opened its domestic partnership registry to unmarried couples as a way to protect them in cases of emergency, end-of-life planning and hospital visitation, my partner of 14 years and I drove to the City Clerk’s office to fill out the appropriate paperwork.
On our way into City Hall we met a lesbian couple exiting. The two women from Clearwater were all smiles, saying that after being partners for more than 25-plus years, they were thrilled the government finally recognized their relationship. I even took the opportunity to snap a photo of them holding their certificate on the steps of City Hall.
Once my partner and I entered, the city staff was polite, kind and we even shared a few laughs with the clerks. After we paid our $30 and handed over the completed, official looking form, we received a certificate recognizing us as partners.
We smiled as the clerk took our photo at our request and then Watermark shared it on its Facebook page. Hundreds of well wishes and congratulations flooded the post and my email immediately afterward.
A few comments wished us luck as we ‘began our lives together.’ While those sentiments were well-meant, they aren’t accurate. I met my partner more than 14 years ago as a college student in Central Missouri. In 2000 we invited close friends to celebrate our relationship with us when we held a Holy Union in our Missouri church. In 2008 we took the next step and stood before a clerk in the San Bernardino County Courthouse and re-exchanged our rings as we took vows to become legally married in the state of California. What began as a political statement ended up being an eye-opening experience.
Immediately after saying our “I do’s,” in September of 2008 we felt the importance of a governmental entity respecting and understanding the meaning of our relationship. Of course, since we are not residents of the Golden State, the California marriage certificate is invalid in Florida, thanks to Amendment 2, which voters approved that same year in order to prevent the recognition of marriages like ours in this state.
That marriage in California was an eye-opener. Our registration in St. Petersburg was not.
While I thanked many for their wishes and told them how proud I was following our registration, I never shared how incomplete the entire experience felt. Something is missing.
While the few protections we now have in our home city are appreciated, they are incomplete. A domestic partnership registry is not a marriage.
Had we registered a week sooner, my sentiments may have been less critical. But just five days before we registered in St. Petersburg, we attended the wedding of a long-time friend in Bradenton as she married her husband. The wedding was beautiful and at the reception we told the bride how proud we were of her while reminding the groom of his responsibility to take care of our friend, his new bride.
I don’t wish to take anything away from that wedding. In fact, it was a perfect day for a perfect couple. But that new husband and wife do not have to redo their wedding multiple times, complete more paperwork once they settle into their new home or have to worry about the status of the viability of their relationship in the eyes of the local government as they cross city and/or state lines.
They are married no matter where they are at any given time in the United States. My partner and countless other same-sex couples are not. And that is the definition of inequality.
