Pádraig Mac Lochlainn (Donegal North East, Sinn Fein) | Oireachtas source

The events of 22 May 2015 changed lives forever. The result of a referendum in favour of marriage equality was hard-fought by equality champions along a journey that stretched back many years. They changed lives that day when they campaigned and marched for rights. Those people faced discrimination and intimidation and were labelled second-class citizens. Those people stood tall when others tried to bring them down on their knees. They knocked on doors, wore badges, spoke to their friends and built the movement for change and the movement for equality. These are the people I am so deeply honoured to call family, friends, comrades and fellow Irish men and women. They were ordinary people who carried out an extraordinary task. They saw injustice and set about to change it, and that is deeply commendable.

Sinn Féin welcomes this Bill to the floor of the House with open arms. It is a momentous occasion, where we as a people come together to end a two-tier system of marriage inequality. Sometimes in reading from a speech it is much better to speak from the heart. Today I will stick to the strict script and we can enjoy the peculiarities of parliamentary practice. Marriage is about one thing: love, and a lasting commitment to honour love. Nobody should ever be denied that opportunity. It is quite difficult to sum up the magnitude of this decision. It is hard to put into words the effects that this will have, the happiness for thousands of citizens and their families and the foundation it has laid to build on this equality and expand it in terms of socio-economic rights to others at the margins of society. This great occasion called for something different. It needed to hear a voice representing those who it affects the most.

The following is an extract from a letter that was sent to me from a gay man who became a civil partner in May and now plans on becoming a husband. Chris put his journey into words and they carry much more weight than mine. He states:

As a gay man who in his formative years was terrified by my own identity, it is impossible to accurately communicate the meaning of what the result truly means to me. When I was a teenager I hated myself because I did not fit in, I did not belong, I was an outcast. I thought that being gay was a feeling that would just go away and that someday I’d marry and have my own family. The feeling of being attracted to another man never went away. In reality, the law told me I was a criminal. The church told me I was an abomination and the mere mention of being gay in the schoolyard was enough to set off alarm bells that stopped me from being the person I wanted to be.

Although the decriminalisation of homosexuality took away the criminalisation aspect, it did not change how I felt inside. Inside, I had a shadow over me, a scar, and I was wounded. My true identity was not just hidden from my friends and family – it was hidden from me. I was oppressed by my own conditioning and the loneliness nearly killed me, for nobody knew the isolation in my head.

He continues:

Coming out was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I had to ask those around me for their approval. I was terrified they'd reject me and I'd become further isolated in my own loneliness. In the end, nobody rejected me. Those around me only wanted me to be happy and to encounter the true feeling of love. You see - the isolation and marginalization was embedded in my subconscious since my early teens. It took years for me to see it and to deal with it. From working with groups like Gay Switchboard I knew I wasn't alone and I know there's many more like me.

Four years ago I found that love. I found the most beautiful kind hearted [soul] and I cherish every day I have with him. It took me 40 years to find him and I'd wait another 40 years to spend just one day in his company, to experience just one moment of the serenity of love. We're planning on getting married in August. We don't know if it will be a civil partnership or marriage as the legislation may not be through in time. But we don't care because May 23rd represented our freedom, our emancipation!

For me, The Marriage Equality Referendum represents the abolition of the shadow I held inside. The emphatic nature of the result was Irish society saying it's OK to be gay - it's OK to be different and we want you. It was normal Irish people sending a message to say we are equal and they want to shake off the shackles of the past and demanding a new, equal Ireland.

On the day of the count, when we were inside the central count centre waiting for the final declaration in Dublin Castle, it was an honour to be there but my heart was not in the courtyard. I wanted to be outside. I wanted to be with my soul mate. That's my only regret but I'm sure there'll be plenty of time to make up for it.

I'd go so far as saying that in a hundred years' time the 23rd of May will been seen as, not Ireland's, but one of humanity's proudest moments because it was a day when equality conquered fear. Perhaps May 23rd should become a bank holiday and called Equality Day to remind future generations of the significance of, not just our emancipation, but the equality of every citizen.

I wanted to read Chris's words into the record today because they say much more than the typical contribution from a political party to a Bill on a day like this. Just reading them now has the hair standing on the back of my neck. Chris's journey, and the journey of thousands like him, is admirable. It makes me proud that I put an X next to the Tá box on the day of the referendum.

This Bill is, therefore, welcome. I commend the speed with which the Government has brought it before the House following the court challenges and it goes without saying that Sinn Féin will not be submitting any amendments, but will facilitate the speediest passage possible through both Houses in order that Chris, and other couples throughout the State, can marry the person they love as soon as possible.

There's a Gaeilge saying: "Níl aon leigheas ar an ngrá, ach pósadh", meaning "There is no cure for love, but marriage". To stand in this House to legislate for that love, for marriage equality, is an honour.

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