I have just been in Cáceres, on a day for the visibility of lesbians. When the participants presented themselves, many did so as follows: “I am Teresa and my wife is Pura.” That is, they expressed their pride in being married to the woman they had next to them. They said “woman” and not “partner”. It seemed to me a strange disposition. Lesbians around me are not lovers of marriage, and (with the excuse of practical reason) those who have married do not extend it to the four winds.

There are two trends in the LGTB movement. On the one hand, those who seek integration and normalization, among them, prioritize the right to marriage as a symbolic symbol of equality. The other trend rejects the recognition of heterosexual society and its norms, including the traditional family model. Queer (rare) was used as an insult in the United States, and the courageous activism of gays, lesbians and transsexuals, which they adopted as a resistance strategy, created the Queer movement. In our case, we use the transmarikabollo to express that we do not want to be “normal” and “respectable”.

I move among the feminist lesbians in Bilbao, looking at that queer trend, and I have despised myself of the institutionalization of the LGTB movement. The federation that groups together Spanish LGTB associations FELGTB is called flagelate, mocking the conservative tone we attribute to it. I always remember the words of UK President David Cameron: “I’m inclined to marry Gay, precisely because I’m a conservative.” That is, better from a conservative point of view if homosexuals marry and lead a life promised by God. This is not a sin, but it is a scratch with strangers in a forest or in a sauna. Consequently, the official discourse among the lesbian citizens we are in the Casco Viejo de Bilbao is to criticize the “heterosexualization” of homosexual marriage.

Alejandra and Rosa were married by foreign law; Alejandra is from Colombia. It's also transsexual. A ppp's councilman murmured them. According to the passport, Alejandra was a man, but both married in a suit and between bouquets of rainbow flowers.

Sole did not believe in weddings, but participated in the FELGTB because he wanted to end the isolation of rural lesbians from Extremadura. When pp voted against the marriage law, the federation told its partners that they needed a large number of marriages to better defend the law. Then he went to his girlfriend with a bouquet of flowers.

In these days, they spoke with pride of their wives, many of them from small towns, and they know what it is to live lesbianism in secret. For them it is lawful to love between people of the same kind as the law of marriage has spread among people. When the woman living the loneliness of the rural lesbian gets married, she faces the society that has rejected her: she manifests her right to exist.

It must be remembered that the right to marriage has not guaranteed sexual freedom, that LGTBphobia is still alive, and that this path of “integration” dismisses those who do not want to be normal. But well, after meeting these women, I think it's convenient to put aside the simplistic dichotomies of radicals/institutions or conservatives/abrasives and recognize the small stories and revolutions of individuals.