Thoughts from the Hobbit House | Ryan’s Guide to Gay Marriage

A public service announcement from a man who has been successfully gay married exactly one time with wisdom from couples smarter than he is.

I received 67 written responses to my last column, “I Made All the Gay Dating Mistakes So You Don’t Have To.” …thank you.

This doesn’t include over 400 social media comments. (By the way, NEVER read the comments.)

And yes, I counted.

Now, 23 of those responses were deeply unpleasant, aggressively homophobic, grammatically incorrect, and written with the kind of emotional regulation usually associated with someone screaming at a self-checkout machine.

But 44 messages were kind, encouraging, and surprisingly heartfelt.

Two people even asked me out on dates to show me what a successful date actually looks like.

One very respectfully added:

“Only with your husband’s permission.”

Which honestly felt progressive, polite, and mildly medieval all at once.

For the record, my husband said no. (Sorry Chris!)

But among all the responses, four people essentially asked the same question:

“What does it actually take to become successfully gay married?”

And since I, Ryan Oelrich, have now been gay married exactly one time for nearly ten years, I feel uniquely underqualified — but emotionally compelled — to answer.

Also, as Pride Month approaches, reflecting on gay marriage feels fitting considering we’ve only had this right nationwide since June 26, 2015. And lately, the fragility of that right feels impossible to ignore.

I also reached out to several long-term gay and queer couples for wisdom, because relying exclusively on my own judgment has historically produced… mixed results.

So let’s begin with reasons to get gay married (yes, I’m recruiting here. I have multiple gay single friends ready to walk down the aisle.), and end with what actually helps people stay gay married once the confetti settles.

Brace yourselves.

Reason #1 to Get Gay Married: You Escape Gay Dating

First and foremost, I highly recommend gay marriage because it means you no longer have to participate in gay dating.

And if you read my last article, you already know that gay dating is essentially a psychologically fascinating obstacle course fueled by emotional damage, iced coffee, and abs.

My husband often remarks that marrying me was a tremendous public service because it permanently removed me from the dating pool before additional harm could occur.

Marriage allows you to retire from the battlefield.

No more apps.

No more trying to determine whether “Hey” means:

romantic interest,
casual friendliness,
or someone attempting to recruit you into cryptocurrency.

No more spending 45 minutes choosing an outfit just to sit across from a man named Tyler who says things like:

“I’m really focused on my journey right now.”

Marriage is peace.

Marriage is safety.

Marriage is deleting apps and never hearing the word “situationship” again.

Reason #2: Gay Marriage Is Environmentally Friendly

One thing society does not discuss nearly enough is how astonishingly efficient gay marriage can be.

You can share hygiene products.

Shelf space suddenly opens up.

Half-empty bottles disappear.

Your shower no longer resembles a tiny cosmetic civil war.

You can also share appliances:

electric razors,
water picks,
vibrating toothbrush bases.

(And before heterosexual couples send me angry emails: yes, some of this applies to you too.)

To be clear, however, I am not advocating for shared toothbrush heads.

We are celebrating love here, not launching a biohazard event.

Separate heads. Remain civilized.

But overall, think about the environmental impact:

less plastic waste,
less clutter,
fewer arguments about why there are somehow eleven identical face washes under the sink.

So yes.

Gay marriage is saving the planet.

You’re welcome, Earth.

Reason #3: Gay Marriage Saves Money

Another deeply underrated feature of gay marriage:

Shared clothing.

You essentially double your wardrobe overnight.

That sequined Armani shirt? Fabulous on both of you.

That flannel? Also fabulous.

My husband is forever raiding my side of the closet.

Financial experts should really be discussing this more.

Honestly, somewhere there’s probably an economist desperately trying to calculate the GDP impact of gay men sharing jackets.

Reason #4: The Learning Curve Is… Shorter

Now let’s address what every straight reader became intensely curious about approximately four paragraphs ago.

And what various heterosexual men have asked me about over the years after they’ve consumed approximately three beers.

And which my heterosexual female friends now immediately ask me about having watched ‘Heated Rivalry.’

The answer is:

Yes.

Absolutely yes.

There are certain practical advantages to being romantically involved with someone who possesses the same operating system you do.

Who better understands your equipment than someone using the exact same model?

It shortens the learning curve.

Reduces confusion.

And eliminates at least some of the awkwardness inherent in human intimacy — which, no matter your orientation, remains fundamentally strange if you think about it too long.

And honestly, after enough years together, romance becomes less:

“Take me now, my love…”

And more:

“Did you lock the front door?”

“Did the dog go outside?”

“Why does your knee keep making that sound?”

Which, honestly, is intimacy too.

Reason #5: You Can Get Away With a Big Gay Wedding

Weddings in general have become increasingly elaborate regardless of orientation.

But I would argue — confidently and without hesitation — that gay weddings continue to take the wedding cake.

I have attended gay weddings featuring:

entire forests constructed indoors,
choreographed dance numbers,
lighting effects capable of guiding aircraft.

At one point during a ceremony, I genuinely wondered:

“Is this still a wedding, or have we transitioned into a Cirque du Soleil residency?”

So yes, if you’ve ever wanted:

a production budget,
dramatic lighting,
and a legally binding reason to become the center of attention —

gay marriage delivers.

Now, in the interest of transparency, let me discuss my own proposal.

Because if you’re going to do this, you might as well commit fully to the bit.

On a dramatic rainy evening, I arranged for my then-boyfriend to be brought to a pedestrian bridge over the Spokane River under the false pretense of normalcy.

It was not normal.

I recruited friends to decorate the bridge with floating illuminated balloons while standing heroically in the rain.

At the far end, they wrapped a lone pine tree in fairy lights like Christmas had arrived unexpectedly during a thunderstorm.

As he crossed the bridge — confused but mostly cooperative — our friends handed him potted plants one by one like participants in a deeply emotional gardening cult.

Meanwhile, another friend followed behind carrying a literal jukebox playing “Love Me Like You Do.”

Which I only later realized was famously associated with Fifty Shades of Grey.

Not exactly the emotional tone I was aiming for, but by then we were committed.

At one point my sister hugged him and said:

“It’s been so nice knowing you.”

So naturally, Rob became briefly convinced he was being offered up as some sort of gay sacrifice.

But finally there I stood.

Under the glowing tree.

In the rain.

Ready to propose.

I told him I wanted our lives intertwined.

I asked him to marry me.

And his immediate response was:

“Are you sure about this?”

Which is objectively not the response you hope for in that moment.

After a brief but spiritually significant pause — during which our friends likely began preparing grief statements — I confirmed that yes, I was sure.

And thankfully…

Eventually…

He said yes.

So here’s the lesson:

Gay weddings are allowed to be:

dramatic,
emotional,
slightly unhinged,
and occasionally sponsored by weather and foliage.

But ultimately, all that matters is this:

Someone stands in front of you and chooses you back.

And honestly?

That’s worth all the balloons.

But Here’s the Actual Secret

Underneath all the jokes, here’s what I think really matters.

Marriage — gay or straight — is less about grand gestures and more about choosing each other repeatedly.

I reached out to other long-term couples for wisdom.

Adam Forcier, who has been with his husband for 22 years and married for 16, shared this:

“Communication is key. As time goes on, you will grow into different people. If you both communicate with open minds and zero judgment, you can grow side by side.”

Which honestly feels much wiser than anything I’ve said so far.

A lesbian couple married for 33 years shared:

“You gotta put in the work and continue to choose each other. You also gotta forgive and find at least one thing you enjoy doing together.”

Another couple together for decades gave perhaps the most concise wisdom of all:

“Gin.”

Which, frankly, deserves consideration.

Dean Lynch and Michael Flannery, having been together over 40 years, shared:

“Listening to learn and not to respond will go along way. Kiss each other at least twice a day--- good morning and good night.”

Which sounds like sage advice. This same couple later shared another bit of wisdom worth contemplating:

“Sometimes both people are caregivers. It may be important to practice being a recipient.”

And Mike and Nathan, together for over a decade, shared this:

“We’re able to laugh with each other — even during arguments. Eventually we realize we’re both being a little ridiculous, and we really do want what’s best for the other person.”

And maybe that’s it.

My husband and I have both made mistakes.

We’re stubborn in entirely different ways.

We annoy each other.

We miscommunicate.

We occasionally argue about things so small and absurd that halfway through, one of us suddenly realizes:

“Oh no. We’re fighting about the dishes again.”

Or, this heated debate in our household, “Should or shouldn’t I use AI to edit an article?”

But, dishes and AI be damned, we continue choosing one another.

Over and over.

And perhaps successful partnership is simply this:

Finding someone who knows exactly how weird you are…