Mine is a mixed marriage. My partner is a pro-life, pro-Israel neoconservative. He’s worked for two poster boys of the Christian right during his time with the United States Senate. He’s been dreaming of a McCain presidency for his entire voting life. He likes meat and guns and only grudgingly recycles.

Then there’s me. I voted for Nader, twice. I march in Gay Pride parades and have been a vegetarian since I discovered that meat came from animals, not trees. I’m pro-choice and I forbid guns in the house. While my partner was writing memos for one of the most notorious conservatives to ever chair the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, I was clacking my heels around the House democratic leader’s office.

Like James Carville and Mary Matalin, pundits on opposite sides of the line, we make our mixed marriage work. On our second date I interrogated him about queer rights, nervous he would fulfill the stereotype of a homophobic conservative. He admitted to not caring about the issue one way or the other, mostly because it was a domestic concern, and he voted and acted along foreign policy lines. We found our common ground as idealists committed to international human rights. Working for the Republicans, he wrote legislation regarding Sudan, helped make the prevention of human trafficking a higher priority in the State Department and was recognized by the Dalai Lama for his political efforts on behalf of Tibet. As the former president of my high school’s Amnesty International chapter, I was impressed. Who knew there were “good guys” on the other side?

Of course there are things we disagree on. Take the war — my partner was for invading Iraq. He advocated it in politics and amongst his colleagues. He adored Rumsfeld and described his words as poetry — and to be fair, the man did often speak in verse. Then he did something that could have ended our relationship before it began: he joined the Army. To me, respect in a marriage is more valuable than agreement. I disagreed with his convictions at the time, but I respect that he put himself on the line instead of sitting behind a desk and letting others fight his battles. If more people had done that, decision makers might have made more educated choices over the past seven years. Nowadays, the war drags on, and my partner will soon leave for a second tour.

Not all issues in a mixed marriage are resolved through respectful disagreement, though. Pettiness and silliness certainly play a role in our marriage. Two years ago we moved to Tacoma for my partner’s job. While there, my being visibly pregnant made finding a job difficult. To get to know my new community and meet like-minded people I chose to volunteer on my congressional representative’s Democratic campaign. I volunteered thirty hours a week, working in campaign finance, fundraising and even canvassing, which I detested. I was proud of myself for being politically active, but my husband was suffering under conflicting emotions. Seeing me rally support for the other side, party guilt crept up on him. That fall, when I went to balance our extremely tight budget, I discovered that my partner had cracked under the pressure — he’d donated $50, our monthly dating allowance, to the GOP. Not to be outdone, I treated my poor husband to a rant about the nature of evil — using those words — every time we received a fundraising letter from his former boss’ pre-presidential campaign.

This year we go to the polls as a house divided. I’m tentative but hopeful about Barak Obama. My partner is fighting to keep up hope for John McCain’s place in the White House. Whatever your opinions, please vote, and remember that sometimes, opposites do attract.

Reach columnist Elizabeth Brady at features@dailyuw.com.