This week, I have read several posts about “Blogging for LGBT Families”. All of them were really interesting reads, however it was clear that the majority of the writers were those already with child. There weren’t many in the TTC process – which made me sad. I really wanted to be included, because we’re trying at the end of the day and are trying to create an LGBT family, but I guess that didn’t count. Plus, I didn’t know what to write about.
And then it struck me… I AM an LGBT child.
After my dad died when I was ten, my mum was a single mum for a number of years. She raised my sister and I, and did a sterling job at it too. She always put us first and for a number of years it was just us three. When I was fourteen, however, she came out. (Now, we could go on for days about the history of it all, but this isn’t what this post is about – maybe I’ll write about it one day).
So, we accepted the change. Not that it was hard; nothing really changed – her love was still there and we still loved her. She was the same person after all. Over time, she met several people but finally settled down with our now step-mum, A, and they got married ten years ago.
Now, it wasn’t all plain sailing. A had a lot to get used to. A had to get used to teenagers and their mood swings. She also had to get used to being in an LGBT family. She had to get used to being asked questions, whether my sister and I were “theirs”. Likewise, we had to get used to people asking about our situation and whether A was the “Dad”. I was literally the only person in the school with two mums… and not because of divorce like other kids but because my mum was a fucking lesbian! How awesome! Kids at school would sometimes be mean, but that was nothing a swift kick to the shin wouldn’t fix.
Nevertheless, my sister and I knew we were “different” not that we felt that way, but we really couldn’t care less. At first I looked on and wondered whether it would be different if my dad was around and whether I would be different if he was, but I quickly found out I really couldn’t answer that.
If anything, I thrived on being “different”. I enjoyed having a cool story to tell (apart from the death bit, that’s never cool) about having two mums. Even as an adult, people would ask questions, expecting me to have a third eye or a twitch, but I didn’t. I was “normal” and survived having two mums!
At the end of the day, my mum and A raised my sister and I through the teenage years… The years I think are one of the most important periods. You have painful love losses, your body changes and you’re making important decisions about everything from your career to yourself. I really don’t think it would have made a blind bit of difference if it was just my mum with me making those decisions or my mum and A. I would have made them regardless. But nevertheless, A was there, and she made a difference in whatdecision I made and for that I am thankful.
Now, we’re here with S and I. We’re trying to have a baby of our own and I couldn’t be more excited! Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared as hell about the questions my child will ask and how we will explain them, or what questions kids at school will ask and how our child will deal with them. It’s terrifying. I just hope that we raise them well to stand up and be proud and not hate us for putting them in that situation, or think that they’re freaks.
I guess this is the society we live in (at the moment, anyway). Gayby’s are still perceived rare, certainly in the UK.
I just hope one day, LGBT families can walk down the road and not have someone take a double take to “work it out” or even have to take the time to ask “so who’s the mum”, that it is just something that happens and another option in baby making for everyone.
Let’s hope anyway.