Love and Money: Lessons Learned From My Queer Wedding
My partner and I recently tied the knot. We had a lovely commitment ceremony on the beach that lasted all of 20 minutes, then we celebrated with a bonfire while we watched the sun go down. It was a decidedly Pagan affair, and the universe couldn’t have provided a more beautiful day.
Most couples – gay or straight – spend an average of $17,000 on their weddings, and most of them go into debt to do it. We planned our commitment ceremony and reception for under $2000. Doing our wedding on such a tight budget was a challenge, but we both agreed that going into debt for a party was not in line with our core values. However, stepping outside the box of conspicuous consumption and all the trappings of a “white wedding” was met with mixed reviews by our family and friends. Here’s what I learned from the experience.
First of all, we consciously did not call our commitment ceremony a wedding. The term comes with a lot of cultural baggage. I’m all for people getting married if they want to, but I don’t believe in the idea of marriage. It has historically been an arrangement that hasn’t benefited women – for centuries we were viewed as chattel and the wedding itself was just a transfer of property from one man to another. I am not a piece of property. I am all for commitments, however. My partner and I made a commitment to one another in April, and we made some pretty serious promises to one another in front of 4 witnesses. To me, this is what it is all about – the words you say are more important than where you say it or what you wear. We have no piece of paper that documents our relationship or grants us any sort of recognition from the state. I’m a Wiccan and my partner is an atheist, so we also don’t have the sanction of any sort of church. But I don’t think that makes our commitment to each other any less valid.
Our family and friends did not know how to react when we told them that we didn’t want gifts. “But we have to get you a present! You’re getting married!” I appreciated the sentiment, but it was more helpful to have people bring a side dish to help us stick to our budget than it was to receive new sheets or some candlesticks I’ll never use. We asked people to donate to queer youth programs if they really wanted to give us a gift. However, I didn’t turn down the Kitchenaid mixer from my mother-in-law, and my partner didn’t say no to a Wii. His mom insisted that she wanted to spend the same amount of money on us that she spent on his brother and sister when they got married. I think that it’s sweet that my mother-in-law wanted to have a very visible sign that she valued our relationship as equally as Shannon’s straight siblings. I’m keeping the Kitchenaid, but it really wasn’t necessary. My relationship with Shannon isn’t worth less because we spent less money to celebrate our commitment. Our family and friends don’t support us less because we asked them not to bring a gift. Money doesn’t equal love.
Our “reception” was small – just a potluck picnic in the park for 20 people. We had more food than we could ever eat in one sitting, and the Arizona weather was pleasantly cool that day. Our parents, grandparents, and a few close friends joined us in the park, and I think everyone had a good time. I know I did. We didn’t have a DJ, no one made a toast, and nobody shoved cake in anyone else’s face. But it was exactly the kind of party we wanted to have.
My partner and I are still navigating our relationship. We lived together before our commitment ceremony, so things really don’t feel like they’ve changed that much. I still do the laundry, and Shannon still takes out the trash. We both work in the garden and play video games together. And our idea of a hot date is a homemade pizza and a Netflix DVD.
The biggest change is linguistic. My partner is trans, and when we were dating it was really easy to clue new people into his preferred gender pronouns by introducing him as my boifriend. Now I don’t know which word to use. We prefer partner, but it’s gender neutral. I’ve introduced Shannon as my husband twice because I wanted to make sure that people knew which pronouns to use. But I am nobody’s wife. I still consider myself a lesbian, even though I sleep with a transguy every night. I fought too hard to claim that label, and I’m not about ready to give it up. I guess we’ll figure out the murky waters of linguistics as we go along. For now, partner works just fine for me. And if I unravel the lesbian piece of that puzzle, I’ll let you know.
For those of you who have had “nontraditional” weddings or commitment celebrations, what was your experience like? How did your family and friends react? I’d love to hear about your experience.
Photo credit: Hart Dasteel Photography
Congrats, Serena!!!!
Our story is similar: we, too, eschewed the conventional trappings of a wedding. We chose to get married in Massachusetts, with only our daughter as witness. We wanted to keep it intimate–about us. We told family and friends about it so they wouldn’t feel left out, and would understand our legal and emotional commitment, but a public ceremony wouldn’t have meant anything to us, so we didn’t have one. We asked our friends and families who felt compelled to give presents to make donations to their favorite queer/progressive causes (and supplied a list).
Afterwards, we posted tons of pics on Facebook, so folks could see what we did and how we did it. The picture of me passed out on the hotel bed with my daughter grinning and leaping around, captioned “This is what a honeymoon looks like with a one-year-old in tow” was a favorite. We refer to each other as ‘partner’ (my partner is gender non-conforming and despite my femme appearance, so am I!!), as do many of our married straight friends. We had a ‘honeymoon’ camping trip a few months later.
What was important to me was not to do anything because it was a convention. We only did what felt vital, authentic, heart-felt. That guided our consumer and ritual choices. A year later, I couldn’t be happier. And I love looking at the pics. Wasting money and performing empty rituals is pointless. However you do it, my advice is to really do it for yourselves, and only do those elements that feel right to you and your partner.
Again, congrats!
Serena: That’s a tender photo. Kudos to Hart Dasteel for capturing the moment!
Jeanine and I have yet to tie the knot. We’ve been domestic partners for years and while, I’m for same-sex marriage rights, neither one of us ever had the white-dress fantasy or urge to stand up in front of friends & family members to profess our love. The one tradition trapping I still desire is the wedding ring part… but as you say, “money doesn’t equal love” and we have yet to buy expensive ones. But that’s the symbol that I personally want to reflect our commitment. I doubt we’ll ever end up having a ceremony.
Thanks Jennifer and Nina. It’s great to hear other people’s experiences and know that we’re not the only ones who did things a little bit differently. Jennifer, I especially love that y’all went camping on your honeymoon.
Many congratulations. I am on my fourth marriage (and final one I swear) and have done a variety of frugal things for each one! I have written my own ceremony, had a friend bake a cake etc. All of my weddings and honeymoons put together would not total 17,000. And I cannot imagine spending that kind of cash for a 10min ceremony!
We also had a wedding on the beach in the morning and a brunch reception at a friend’s house. The friend, though, has a very large home near the beach with a large yard that could accomodate our 100+ guests and that was a significant savings for us. It was very difficult to keep costs down with such a large crowd (big families). A breakfast wedding, though, is traditionally Scottish and also nicely cuts out the need for serving alcohol, hiring staff and providing seating. All the food was piled high on a a few tables (buffet style) and we rented dishes and cutlery to avoid the work of cleaning. Instead of a caterer who would want a set menu and a per head fee, I hired a friend to make scrambled eggs and hot appetizers at the event, I made a pile of pasta salad, greek salad, fresh biscuits, mixed up some fruit punch etc., and we hired the teen daughters of our friend to bus the affair and help clean up afterwards.
The beach was excellent because if you don’t set up chairs or any ‘furniture’, you don’t even need a permit. We were lucky it was sunny, otherwise we would have moved the event indoors to my friend’s house and that would have been cramped (we did rent a tent shelter outside for overflow in that event, because that many people is a squeeze even in a 5 bedroom house.) The licensed minister was under $200 for her reading our vows (we modified the Quaker vows, they’re nice and simple) and registering the legal paperwork.
We did buy a wedding cake and some pastries, but our total bill was probably $7000, and a good chunk of that was for our fancy outfits (and my good kilt will basically last forever).
My tips for anyone doing a wedding are this:
-limit your guest list if you find the size of your wedding is limiting your choice in venues.
-instead of thank you cards, get postcards made from pictures from your wedding. People emailed us pics the same day and we printed postcards to write notes thanking everyone and mailed them right away. It was easy and cheaper than the whole letter and envelope shtick, plus people put them on their fridges.
-if you suspect people will bring gifts, set up a registry or wishlist at places you like. Otherwise, you risk 20 fondu sets that are useless. We outfitted our kitchen and got some nice furniture, and made sure the registry had items from $3 to $500 to suit everyone’s budget.
-don’t use a venue that requires exclusive catering. You can mix and match food you make yourself and what you hire out to be most effective. For example, our cake caterer wanted $2 a scone, so we picked up a batch from Tim Horton’s in the morning for 40 cents apiece.
-you can fit in a lot more people in a given space if they don’t sit down for a formal meal.
-no alcohol, no liability issues for your hosts, no expense. And who wants drunks at their wedding anyway?
-for invitations, we made our own with some fancy paper. Print out the writing on plain paperstock that’s cut into quarters. Paste it onto a fancy background sheet, cut in half and then fold. We got sealing wax and a stamp to complete the look and our invitations kicked ass for under $100. If you really wanted to simplify, use evite.com
Great tips, Regan. I love that you said, “who wants to drink at their wedding, anyway.” I think a lot of people do – to deal with the stress of the day. But honestly, I’d rather remember the day, despite the nerves. That’s just me, though.