Why I’m walking 1000 kilometres for love

In all relationships you have to patiently listen to the crazy ideas of the ones that you love, whether it’s committing to a crippling mortgage or a night out bowling. All loving partnerships are built on tolerance but Australia can’t tolerate the idea of me marrying my boyfriend, which has resulted in me saying ‘yes’ to walking from Sydney to Brisbane.

Following the plebiscite’s announcement, after PM Malcolm Turnbull’s to-ing and fro-ing and before the ‘Stop The Fags’ posters on the streets of Melbourne, the man I love in man-flu and in health proposed packing our backpacks this Saturday and walking to Brisbane to raise awareness for marriage equality and to try to convince as many people to vote ‘yes’ as possible.

As well as being ridiculously handsome my boyfriend is rather persuasive, making him an extremely talented lawyer. Adam opened his case by saying that this was an issue that affected us directly, that he was angry that the government was holding a popularity contest to measure the validity of gay and lesbian relationships and that Brisbane would be a better destination than Melbourne because it would be warmer.

I said ‘yes’ immediately because I feel frustrated and ostracised by a country that I love and that once believed in a fair go. As a third-generation Australian the values of equality were drummed into me by my parents, grandparents, teachers, priests and nuns.
As a child the television blurted that if you were: “As Greek as souvlaki and as Irish as a stew, Italian as spaghetti and as Danish as a blue,” then you were an Aussie. Add being as gay as Peter Allen and as lesbian as Magda Szubanski, and it sounds even better.

I was taught to treat someone as I would like to be treated, a motto I have tried to adhere to (failing quite a few times on the way) and I am now devastated to have the government and critics telling me that I am less worthy than my straight friends, less of an Australian and less of a person.