Commentary

A skeptic makes peace with marriage

Published

16 years ago

February 25, 2010

Marriage is either an anachronism or it isn’t.

But maybe that’s too simplistic. Maybe it’s anachronistic for many — at least, the kind of lifelong monogamy of the “happily ever after” romantic ideal.

But maybe for others, it can still work, imperfectly at times, demanding compromises always, but still, the righteous goal of one lifelong commitment, till death do us part. For me, however, the not entirely healed survivor of a bitter divorce, I remain resolutely unsure about remarriage — ever mindful that the 18th century literary giant Samuel Johnson once famously defined it as a triumph of hope over experience.

So mark me down about marriage, gay or straight, as a definite maybe.

After all, what are the odds of hope ever trumping (sometimes) bitter experience? The answer I guess is quite simply contingent — it depends.

But now comes Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the 2006 mega-blockbusting best-seller “EAT, PRAY, LOVE,” a feminist’s bon-bon with 7 million copies sold, still high on the sales charts after more than three years and her two appearances on Oprah Winfrey’s show. And in August Julia Roberts will star as Gilbert in Hollywood’s retelling of her saga of a nasty divorce at age 30, followed by a journey of depression, disastrous rebound affairs and then eventual recovery while visiting in Italy luxuriating in language and cuisine and then chanting and sweating and meditating at an ashram in India and finally traveling to Bali where she met the love of her life, the man she calls Felipe in her new book, just published, titled “COMMITTED: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage.”

But Felipe — she attempts to keep him veiled by a pseudonym but she also acknowledges he is, really, Jose Nunes — is from a different culture and generation. He is Brazilian-born but an Australian citizen and he is 17 years her senior. But like her, like so many of us in fact, Felipe is a survivor of a bitter divorce. And “EAT, PRAY, LOVE” ends with them in love but each vowing never, ever to remarry — each other or anyone else. The pain, quite simply, of that marital experience is too awful still for hope to flower in its ashes.

Fate intervenes, however, in the form of a U.S. Homeland Security agent when the two try to return to the U.S. where they have sought to live without benefit of a marriage license as a couple swearing never to write down personal vows on a legal document. For marriage is an instrument of the state, replete with fine print concerning property and offspring, but in the modern era a vessel also for soul mates finding one another and mating with a sacred vow — let no man or woman tear asunder — for all eternity.

Felipe is barred re-entry at the Dallas International Airport and the only chance he has of returning to their home in New Jersey is as her husband. Therefore they are, in her jokey aside, “sentenced to marry.” But until the necessary papers for such a visa can be obtained — something that will take months — they decide to travel mainly in Southeast Asia and live cheaply while getting to know one another as they each contemplate taking the step neither had wanted, namely wedding vows and a marriage license. The result of her quest for an answer is this new book.

But what does the book have to say about same-sex marriage. It turns out, a lot.

Recently Gilbert addressed the issue head-on in a D.C. book tour appearance, as well as on the Diane Rehm public radio show, but it also leaps right off the pages of her book. “Legalized same-sex marriage is coming to America” she declares and then adds, “in large part, this is because NON-legalized same-sex marriage is already here,” noting also that the 2010 U.S. Census, in forms arriving in our mailboxes next month, will for the first time document same-sex couples alongside heterosexual married couples.

This is true, she says, even though right-wing homophobes will obtain, as in the California vote on Proposition 8, temporary victories, and though traditionalist Christians claim to want to strengthen marriage by denying it to gay people.

National Marriage Week, in fact, was Feb. 7-14 for these marriage-revivalists but no gays need apply. Except sometime next month, thanks to action by the D.C. City Council and Mayor Fenty, it is coming to the District anyway.

And nationwide, says Gilbert, “the federal courts will eventually get fed up,” just as happened in 1967 with Loving v. Virginia when the Supreme Court unanimously struck down laws against interracial marriage. She sees marriage as “a secular concern, not a religious one,” noting that “the objection to gay marriage is almost invariably biblical — but nobody’s legal vows in this country are defined by interpretation of biblical verse.”

“Ultimately, then, it is the business of America’s courts, not America’s churches, to decide the rules of matrimonial law, and it is in those courts that the same-sex marriage debate will finally be settled.”

Legal marriage, she concedes, may be hard for individuals to endure successfully but it “restrains sexual promiscuity and yokes people to their social obligations” and as such “is an essential building block of any orderly community — and is also good for children who ideally at least will be reared in intact families.

But speaking in D.C. last month on her book tour she also said that “we’re entering the era of ‘wifeless’ marriages, where every woman I know wants to be married but nobody wants to be a ‘wife.” In addition, she is unalterably opposed to the idea of “soul mate” — what she calls the “Jerry Maguire fantasy” of “you complete me.” Instead she proudly declares, “I own my incompleteness.”

But is there a difference between completeness and wholeness? Listen to the song “In a Very Unusual Way,” from the 1982 Broadway show “Nine,” as sung by Nicole Kidman on screen: “Since the first day that I met you, how could I ever forget you / Once you had touched my soul? / In a very unusual way, you make me whole.”

Suppose it’s true that unlike completion, wholeness differs in that it is neither confined nor static but open, growing, organic, emerging. Suppose, indeed, that marriage proponents can learn something from gay men — for it is gay men and not lesbians that are relevant here. Suppose gay men are in fact leading the way — as Gilbert opines — in saving marriage for at least some straight people by reframing it as an open relationship?

True, the fetishism of monogamy may persist forever for many, and its hold seems deeply embedded in some cultures — though not in others and certainly not in what is sometimes quaintly called “the animal kingdom.”

On the verge of attaining legal same-sex marriage in D.C., let us conclude with findings from recent social science. Two studies reveal that many gay men appear to thrive in open relationships. One of the studies, just published by San Francisco State University, looked over the course of three years at 556 male couples, of whom half had mutually agreed to outside sexual experiences. The other study (2009) looked only at gay male couples in long-term relationships (together for eight years or longer) who maintained consensual open relationships. Three quarters of those couples felt that outside sex had no negative impact on their primary connections.

In other words, the monogamous model itself may eventually crumble for some (but not all), and marriage may become redefined by gay men for all people as an open door to a different option (for some at least): that is, enduring love made “whole,” yet not complete, with emotional primacy but also sexual variety. Call it still marriage, then, but also “open” — in other words, just “in a very unusual way.”

Elizabeth Gilbert, by the way, would agree.

David J. Hoffman is a local writer and regular contributor to DC Agenda. Reach him at [email protected].

Commentary

Stand with displaced queer people living with HIV

Dec. 1 is World AIDS Day

Published

5 days ago

December 1, 2025

Abraham Junior

(Bigstock photo)

Today, on World AIDS Day, we honor the resilience, courage, and dignity of people living with HIV everywhere especially refugees, asylum seekers, and queer displaced communities across East Africa and the world.

For many, living with HIV is not just a health journey it is a journey of navigating stigma, borders, laws, discrimination, and survival.

Yet even in the face of displacement, uncertainty, and exclusion, queer people living with HIV continue to rise, thrive, advocate, and build community against all odds.

To every displaced person living with HIV:

• Your strength inspires us.

• Your story matters.

• You are worthy of safety, compassion, and the full right to health.

• You deserve a world where borders do not determine access to treatment, where identity does not determine dignity, and where your existence is celebrated not criminalized.

Let today be a reminder that:

• HIV is not a crime.

• Queer identity is not a crime.

• Seeking safety is not a crime.

• Stigma has no place in our communities.

• Access to treatment, care, and protection is a human right.

As we reflect, we must recommit ourselves to building systems that protect not punish displaced queer people living with HIV. We must amplify their voices, invest in inclusive healthcare, and fight the inequalities that fuel vulnerability.

Hope is stronger when we build it together.

Let’s continue to uplift, empower, and walk alongside those whose journeys are too often unheard.

Today we remember.

Today we stand together.

Today we renew hope.

Abraham Junior lives in the Gorom Refugee Settlement in South Sudan.

Commentary

Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength

Rebuilding life and business after profound struggles

Published

6 days ago

November 29, 2025

Gerard Burley

(Photo by Orhan/Bigstock)

I grew up an overweight, gay Black boy in West Baltimore, so I know what it feels like not to fit into a world that was not really made for you. When I was 18, my mother passed from congestive heart failure, and fitness became a sanctuary for my mental health rather than just a place to build my body. That is the line I open most speeches with when people ask who I am and why I started SWEAT DC.

The truth is that little boy never really left me.

Even now, at 42 years old, standing 6 feet 3 inches and 225 pounds as a fitness business owner, I still carry the fears, judgments, and insecurities of that broken kid. Many of us do. We grow into new seasons of life, but the messages we absorbed when we were young linger and shape the stories we tell ourselves. My lack of confidence growing up pushed me to chase perfection as I aged. So, of course, I ended up in Washington, D.C., which I lovingly call the most perfection obsessed city in the world.

Chances are that if you are reading this, you feel some of that too.

D.C. is a place where your resume walks through the door before you do, where degrees, salaries, and the perfect body feel like unspoken expectations. In the age of social media, the pressure is even louder. We are all scrolling through each other’s highlight reels, comparing our behind the scenes to someone else’s curated moment. And I am not above it. I have posted the perfect photo with the inspirational “God did it again” caption when I am feeling great and then gone completely quiet when life feels heavy. I am guilty of loving being the strong friend while hating to admit that sometimes I am the friend who needs support.

We are all caught in a system that teaches us perfection or nothing at all. But what I know for sure now is this: Perfection is a lie and vulnerability is the new strength.

When I first stepped into leadership, trying to be the perfect CEO, I found Brené Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly” and immediately grabbed onto the idea that vulnerability is strength. I wanted to create a community at SWEAT where people felt safe enough to be real. Staff, members, partners, everyone. “Welcome Home” became our motto for a reason. Our mission is to create a world where everyone feels confident in their skin.

But in my effort to build that world for others, I forgot to build it for myself.

Since launching SWEAT as a pop up fundraiser in 2015, opening our first brick and mortar in 2017, surviving COVID, reemerging and scaling, and now preparing to open our fifth location in Shaw in February 2026, life has been full. Along the way, I went from having a tight trainer six pack to gaining nearly 50 pounds as a stressed out entrepreneur. I lost my father. I underwent hip replacement surgery. I left a relationship that looked fine on paper but was not right. I took on extra jobs to keep the business alive. I battled alcoholism. I faced depression and loneliness. There are more stories than I can fit in one piece.

But the hardest battle was the one in my head. I judged myself for not having the body I once had. I asked myself how I could lead a fitness company if I was not in perfect shape. I asked myself how I could be a gay man in this city and not look the way I used to.

Then came the healing.

A fraternity brother said to me on the phone, “G, you have to forgive yourself.” It stopped me in my tracks. I had never considered forgiving myself. I only knew how to push harder, chase more, and hide the cracks. When we hung up, I cried. That moment opened something in me. I realized I had not neglected my body. I had held my life and my business together the best way I knew how through unimaginable seasons.

I stopped shaming myself for not looking like my past. I started honoring the new ways I had proven I was strong.

So here is what I want to offer anyone who is in that dark space now. Give yourself the same grace you give everyone else. Love yourself through every phase, not just the shiny ones. Recognize growth even when growth simply means you are still here.

When I created SWEAT, I hoped to build a home where people felt worthy just as they are, mostly because I needed that home too. My mission now is to carry that message beyond our walls and into the city I love. To build a STRONGER DC.

Because strength is not perfection. Strength is learning to love an imperfect you.

With love and gratitude, Coach G.

Gerard Burley, also known as Coach G, is a D.C.-based fitness entrepreneur.

Commentary

Elusive safety: what new global data reveals about gender, violence, and erasure

Movements against gender equality, lack of human rights data contributing factors.

Published

2 weeks ago

November 25, 2025

Jay Gilliam and Susan Dicklitch-Nelson

Activists who participated in a 2024 Pride march in San Salvador, El Salvador, carry a banner that calls for a country where “being a woman is not a danger.” (Photo courtesy of Colectivo Alejandría)

“My identity could be revealed, people can say whatever they want [online] without consequences. [Hormone replacement therapy] is illegal here so I’m just waiting to find a way to get out of here.”

-Anonymous respondent to the 2024 F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index from Iraq, self-identified as a transgender woman and lesbian

As the campaign for 16 Days Against Gender-Based Violence begins, it is a reminder that gender-based violence (GBV) — both on– and offline — not only impacts women and girls but everyone who has been harmed or abused because of their gender or perceived gender. New research from the Franklin & Marshall (F&M) Global Barometers and its report A Growing Backlash: Quantifying the Experiences of LGBTQI+ People, 2022-2024 starkly show trends of declining safety among LGBTQI+ persons around the world.

This erosion of safety is accelerated by movements against gender equality and the disappearance of credible human rights data and reporting. The fight against GBV means understanding all people’s lived realities, including those of LGBTQI+ people, alongside the rights we continue to fight for.

We partnered together while at USAID and Franklin & Marshall College to expand the research and evidence base to better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons through the F&M Global Barometers. The collection of barometers tracks the legal rights and lived experiences of LGBTQI+ persons from 204 countries and territories from 2011 to the present. With more than a decade of data, it allows us to see how rights have progressed and receded as well as the gaps between legal protections and lived experiences of discrimination and violence.

This year’s data reveals alarming trends that highlight how fear and violence are, at its root, gendered phenomena that affect anyone who transgresses traditional gender norms.

LGBTQI+ people feel less safe

Nearly two-thirds of countries experienced a decline in their score on the F&M Global Barometers LGBTQI+ Perception Index (GBPI) from 2022-2024. This represents a five percent drop in global safety scores in just two years. With almost 70 percent of countries receiving an “F” grade on the GBPI, this suggests a global crisis in actual human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people.

Backsliding on LGBTQI+ human rights is happening everywhere, even in politically stable, established democracies with human rights protections for LGBTQI+ people. Countries in Western Europe and the Americas experienced the greatest negative GBPI score changes globally, 74 and 67 percent, respectively. Transgender people globally reported the highest likelihood of violence, while trans women and intersex people reported the highest levels of feeling very unsafe or unsafe simply because of who they are.

Taboo of gender equality

Before this current administration dismantled USAID, I helped create an LGBTQI+ inclusive whole-of-government strategy to prevent and respond to GBV that highlighted the unique forms of GBV against LGBTQI+ persons. This included so-called ‘corrective’ rape related to actual or perceived sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression” and so-called ‘conversion’ therapy practices that seek to change or suppress a person’s gender identity or expression, sexual orientation, or sex characteristics. These efforts helped connect the dots in understanding that LGBTQI+ violence is rooted in the same systems of inequality and power imbalances as the broader spectrum of GBV against women and girls.

Losing data and accountability

Data that helps better understand GBV against LGBTQI+ persons is also disappearing. Again, the dismantling of USAID meant a treasure trove of research and reports on LGBTQI+ rights have been lost. Earlier this year, the US Department of State removed LGBTQI+ reporting from its annual Human Rights Reports. These played a critical role in providing credible sources for civil society, researchers, and policymakers to track abuses and advocate for change.

If violence isn’t documented, it’s easier for governments to deny it even exists and harder for us to hold governments accountable. Yet when systems of accountability work, governments and civil society can utilize data in international forums like the UN Universal Periodic Review, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, and the Sustainable Development Goals to assess progress and compliance and call for governments to improve protections.

All may not be lost if other countries and donors fill the void by supporting independent data collection and reporting efforts like the F&M Global Barometers and other academic and civil society monitoring. Such efforts are essential to the fight against GBV: The data helps show that the path toward safety, equality, and justice is within our reach if we’re unafraid of truth and visibility of those most marginalized and impacted.

Jay Gilliam (he/him/his) was the Senior LGBTQI+ Coordinator at USAID and is a member of the Global Outreach Advisory Council of the F&M Global Barometers.

Susan Dicklitch-Nelson (she/her/hers) is the founder of the F&M Global Barometers and Professor of Government at Franklin & Marshall College.