What Do You Call That Guy?

It seems that the terms we use parallel those straight women use at the start—a date, then a boyfriend, for example. But then things change.

By: Neil Plakcy

Writing about the issue of gay marriage in MAHU FIRE made me think about the words that gay men use when we talk about that special guy. I don’t mean those little terms of endearment—sweetie, honey, baby. I wonder what you say when introducing him, or referring to him in conversation. Because the term you use says a lot about who you are.

I know a lot of gay men in their fifties, sixties and above who say things like “My lover and I lived in New York then,” or “Joe and his lover came to dinner.”

To me, the word lover carries a hint of illegitimacy. I think of married men and women who take lovers on the side. Maybe that’s why that term was adopted so many years ago, when gay men were first fighting to step out of the shadows and into the mainstream of American life. They were defying convention, so the word they chose was defiant.

When I was dating, before anything got serious, I used the term boyfriend, even though my friends were far from being boys. There was a light, casual tone to that term. It called up the innocence of youth—high school dating, furtive kisses in cars, gossip about who had a crush on who.

The term significant other is too antiseptic for me, reminding me of tax forms. There was a little rhyme coined when the census first tried to identify same-sex couples: persons of the same sex sharing living quarters, or POSSLQ:
“Come live with me, and I with you,
And I will be your POSSLQ.”

It’s also clunky to introduce someone that way. “This is Marc, my POSSLQ.” Sometimes, in joking, I’ll call him my insignificant other—but never when he’s around. (I also sometimes call him the Jewish American Prince of Darkness, but you know I’m kidding when I say that, right?)

I’m most comfortable with partner. We’ve created a partnership, I believe, sharing our home, our lives, our hopes and fears and dreams. And our dog, though he doesn’t care what we call each other as long as there are treats involved for him.

My cousin, though, has been using the term husband for years, long before it was ever legal anywhere. He’s a respected journalist, so I know he pays attention to words and their meanings. At the time he first started using it, husband was a term full of political weight. He and his husband had a commitment ceremony, so he felt he was entitled to use that term.

But today, with the legalization of same sex marriage in Massachusetts, and in certain foreign countries, should we reserve that term for those who have been legally joined? My mother’s cousin, a widow in her seventies, began dating, and then living with, a widower of a similar age. After a while, she began introducing the man as her husband, probably because she was embarrassed that they were “living in sin.”

They weren’t legally wed, any more than my cousin and his husband. But to me, Lucille was lying when she called Stan her husband—because she had the opportunity to marry him, and chose not to. If same-sex marriage becomes legal in Florida, will I start to feel that Ric and Steve should take that formal step, if they want to keep using the term?

In MAHU FIRE, my hero, Honolulu homicide detective Kimo Kanapa’aka, begins to date a guy who might be a keeper. By the end of the book, you might call them boyfriends. And who knows, if gay marriage becomes a reality, they might even be husbands someday.

One of the many things that gay and lesbian people have learned from the civil rights struggle is that words matter. In the choice of what you call that guy you love, our words matter just as much.

Neil Plakcy is the Lambda-nominated author of Mahu Surfer; his new book is Mahu Fire, which Publishers Weekly calls “engrossing… a sharp whodunit.”

Comments

[Ryan field]

We're together sixteen years, and I call him my "partner". But last summer, when he was hospitalized with pneumonia for three months, and we were "stuck" in a small community hospital in Bucks County, PA where he nearly died, I found it important to be referred to as his "Legal Power of Attorney," instead of his "partner." In this case, when it came to making life and death decisions, "husband" wouldn't have been taken seriously, and "partner" didn't exude enough power. So when doctors asked who I was, I simply said, "legal power of attorney" to make sure no one would screw around with me. And they didn't, and I carried those legal forms to the hospital with me in a briefcase from Memorial day to Labor Day.

So, "partner" works just fine on a daily basis for us, but "legal power of attorney" takes it one step higher when you really need to take an aggressive, offensive approach.

Great post, Neil.

[neilplakcy]

Wow! That's one of the most eloquent examples of the need for legal recognition of same sex couples I've read. Thanks, Ryan.

[Ryan field]

You're welcome. My "partner" and I never thought we'd be in that position; we're in our late thirties. But it happened in a matter of minutes. Thankfully we were prepared.

[Alex]

I'm a married woman myself, and I've noticed that recently everyone has started referring to my husband as my 'partner', and to me as his partner. So it may be that 'husband' is on its way out anyway.

I say though that if you've made that commitment to one another - til death do us part - whether that's recognized by the society or not, then yes you're entitled to say 'husband'.

[P.A. Brown]

As a straight woman I can tell you the words have freight between men and women. When I was in my first live-in committed relationship he called me his wife. I on the other hand always called him 'the guy I'm living with'. I'm not sure I was ever as committed as he was. Maybe if I'd called him hubby we'd still be together.... Not. :-) Pat