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Nov. 4, 2015: Mara and Mimi’s Mitzvah

November 5, 2015

We were in Georgia last week for my grand-niece and grand-nephew’s bat and bar mitzvah. (They’re close in age and they had them together as a b’nai mitzvah.) It was a mitzvah for Mara and me to go, especially since no one else on my side of the family went. But we didn’t go because of that. We went because, although we’re not Jewish, we know that this rite of passage is a huge deal, and we wanted to be there to celebrate with them. And they — and their parents (my niece and her husband) — were glad we came.

When we introduced ourselves to their friends, we simply said we are their aunts. No other explanation was necessary. And no one asked for any details; they just welcomed us. Nice. The only person we came out to was the photographer. We sat at the same table during lunch after the service, and it came out in the conversation that Mara and I are married. The photographer was intrigued, because her teenage her daughter had recently come out to her as lesbian. Her daughter was with her, and she was anxious for us to meet her.

I asked Mara later if she had told our new friend that we’re a trans couple. She hadn’t, and it really didn’t matter. It was only hours later, near the end of the evening celebration, that Mara told her. And it still didn’t matter. I like when it doesn’t matter that Mara is trans. It shouldn’t, ever.



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