You and I have more in common than you would probably like to think. You are an Australian icon, I am the daughter of one.
My mother Julie Anthony sang the National Anthem at the Sydney 2000 Olympic games, the largest gathering of athletes from all nationalities, races, sexualities, shapes and sizes in the world. She sang the anthem for them and for everyone, regardless of what flag they marched under or what suburb they drove from to get there that night.
Like you, she has carried the hopes and admirations of this country on her shoulders throughout her career.
Unlike you, she doesn't care that I am gay.
In fact, she looks forward to meeting her grandchildren in the very near future.
My mother, Mrs Court, made a choice. When I told her that I was in love with a woman, she told me that it was wonderful and suggested we go and watch Hedwig and the Angry Inch, a show about a transgender cabaret singer from the Eastern Bloc. She loved the music.
This November 18th, she will be standing proudly by my side as I marry the love of my life. Also by my side will be my sister, who happens to be straight and marrying a man on the same day. That’s right, a double wedding with my heteronormative sister, with whom I am splitting the costs of the event equally because, well, we are.