#lgbtwedding

We did it! ❤️️❤️️❤️️

When one chapter ends a new one begins! Here’s to all the chapters we will write together…

My soul absorbs you, while my mind inhales your complete essence and this is before our lips even meet.

“With you by my side there’s no darkness I can’t overcome”

MATRIGAY! My first post for Weird Sister on getting lesbianmarried at 26 and telling everyone about it (including your radical feminist friends, your exes, and your evangelical colombian family).

(Click to read)

I was not supposed to get married. A ver cachaco, cómo te explico: my long relationship record is at an outstanding one person in twenty-six years. Even today (already after-the-fact) every time I see pictures on Facebook of my straight girlfriends posing next to their lightly bearded husbands under a cathedral arc with a smiling priest, I make a run for the bathroom and throw up a little. When I was eighteen I swore to myself to never look like my tías (tía if you are reading this, I love you girlfriend, but no). To never settle down. To never be a housewife. To never highlight my hair and wear pearls at the same time (wink to my Colombian readers). To never say things like: Juanpis y yo nos vamos a vivir juntos a un apto di-vi-no. To never have a Juanpis. To fear commitment and monogamy like the ebola virus (too soon?). To be fucking around for as long as I could because, have you been outside mi amol? Have you seen them dykes in their tight pants and outrageous fashion? Plus, why would a twenty-something lesbiana want to get married anyway? It’s not like I had my (incredibly fundamentalist religious) family looking at their watch going: a ver niña, when are you gonna seal that homosexual relationship with a lesbian wedding? Na-ha, mamita! Na-ha.