Thank you, Australia. 7.8 million times thank you

TODAY 7.8 million Australians told me I’m their equal. The marriage equality survey took its toll, but today its reward is sweet, writes Gary Nunn.

AS I write this, my tear ducts are quivering, the way they always do when I’m trying to take in something monumental has just happened.

Whether the tears they threaten would be of relief or happiness, I’m not yet sure. But finally, finally, there’s one thing I can be sure of: Australians have spoken. And they want me to be equal.

I cannot tell you how triumphant it feels to type that today. I have tingles of the spine variety and bumps of the goose variety.

Another thing I’m sure of: we’re all relieved this long campaign is over. Most are sick to death of it. Who can blame them? It hit saturation point weeks ago. Although something did resonate: eight in ten Australians participated.

The 61.6 per cent Yes vote, revealed today, confirms something independent research has consistently found since 2011: most Australians support same-sex marriage. Today, let us not gloat; but allow us to celebrate

As those ducts tingle, I repress the tears they want to release. It’s something us gay people have become experts at: repressing. Growing up lying about who we really are. Waiting till it feels safe enough to out ourselves. Hiding in closets. Letting go of our partner’s hand as we corner a different street with fresh potential for humiliation. For danger.

But today isn’t a day for tears. Soon, talk of closets and repression will seem odd to the next generation of young LGBTQI people. Today is for them.

Australia has spoken. (Pic: Lisa Maree Williams/Getty)

It isn’t for people like me, who are confident enough in their own skin to make a public declaration of love to one of their own sex in a marriage ceremony. It’s for those much earlier in the journey, nervous about who they are and how they’ll be treated for it. Who may’ve felt pessimistic about their future, or a desire not to be lesbian or gay at all. Who are disproportionately over-represented in suicide statistics.

It’s for people like Tyrone Unsworth who killed himself a year ago (almost to the day) aged just 13, after relentless homophobic bullying.

Imagine if Tyrone could’ve shared in the same happy-ever-after fairytale as everyone else. Optimism can do powerful things; its denial can crush and devastate. Let today be the day the tide turns on LGBTQI suicides.

For here it is, finally: modern Australia, a country that has matured and stood up for equality. It wasn’t just LGBTQI people who had a stake in this. It was their parents, their siblings, their employers, their friends. Anyone who has loved a gay person will be sighing with relief or rejoicing with vigour today. But they’ll be proud to call this modern, progressive country theirs.

Many of us laid ourselves bare and raw for this. We opened up parts of ourselves that are private, vulnerable. It took its toll, but today’s reward is sweet.

I became passionate about providing the next generation in my beloved gay community with the plethora of role models I missed out on. They stayed in closets, felt beaten down by homophobia, used drugs, drink and sex to block out the shame society put on them, or were killed in the AIDS crisis. It was a lost generation of gay men.

And so, just like many others — for this was truly a team effort — I shared. I shared about how immediately and unequivocally my Nan and late Gran had accepted my sexual orientation, and how that unconditional love strengthened my resilience. It also gifted the YES campaign with a powerful but perhaps counterintuitive weapon: our grandparents.

I urged people not to boycott the dreaded postal survey: few in the LGBTQI or equality-supporting community wanted it, but we had to be in it to win it. We warned of the Pandora’s box of harm it’d unleash and how divisive, unnecessary, toothless and expensive it was. But we were dismissed. So our community did what we’ve become accustomed to doing: we united in solidarity. We fought. We overcame.

I called out behaviour of the Yes camp when it turned ugly (as we repeatedly warned the government it would) and stressed the importance of working together with those we’d usually passionately oppose.

I volunteered by calling voters and encouraging them to vote Yes, even when some told me how they’d vote was “none of of my f**cking business.” The legitimacy of my relationship with my boyfriend is nobody’s f***cking business either. And from today, nobody gets to vote on how human or equal or valid me or my relationship is. They can all butt out.

Meanwhile, we can do what all other married couples do: have our relationship recognised overseas. Be at our partner’s hospital bed when we’re needed most. Ask what the other one wants for dinner, until one of us dies. Matrimonial bliss is ours!

I became an Australian citizen a year ago, on my birthday. The first ever vote I got to cast in our democratic system was one for my own equality. It was a survey I never wanted to vote in, but a result that is, I’ll be honest, about more than just marriage to me. I feel affirmed as a person.

The slow chip away of my self-esteem today reverses direction again. My gait reverts to the unashamed mince that defines, colours and characterises me. The old Gary is back. I like him. And now I know, the majority of my newly adopted nation does too.

To everyone who voted Yes: thank you — 7.8 million times thank you.

@garynunn1

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Originally published as Thank you, Australia. 7.8 million times thank you