Seventeen years ago, my mom turned to me and told me something most assume changed my life forever. It didn’t.
What did she tell me? That she was gay.
This was in 2002. The year before, my heterosexual parents separated and then promptly divorced.
Following their divorce, my mom came out as a lesbian. While many may assume this shaped my entire life, it didn’t.
The outdated assumptions that my mom being a lesbian and dating women would change my own life and somehow “make me gay” are ignorant, but also words I have heard before.
When my mom turned to me and told me she was now dating women, I had one question for her.
“Do you love women?”
One word was all that mattered to me as a four-year-old girl. Love.
She answered yes and we moved on.
Many others weren’t able to move on — for them, my mom being a lesbian was earth-shattering and ground breaking.
But to me, it was just my life. When my dad remarried and my mom had a long-term girlfriend, I made funny jokes about how I didn’t have one mom, but instead three.
And it never seemed strange, until others made it so.
Memories of family members “checking-in” with me to make sure I still liked boys and not girls are ones I won’t forget.
Similarly, my mother not being overly feminine, which in part made me a more masculine woman. This has made people assume — to this day — that I myself may be a lesbian.
But even if I was, so what?
I’ve never understood the issue. I’m not a lesbian, but if I was it would be OK.
And while my mother being a lesbian didn’t make a difference in the quality of my childhood, maybe it did shape the person I am.
I grew up always accepting of the LGBTQA community. It never crossed my mind to object or think it was strange. It’s not, and being an ally to the LGBTQA community will always shape my life.
People need to hear that growing up in an LGBTQA household doesn’t change you or “make you gay.” It’s just life, like everyone else.
It’s not some magical fantasy or immoral place — it’s my childhood. It wasn’t perfect, but few are. And having a lesbian mom wasn’t the deal breaker.
The deal breaker was growing up with other peoples’ ignorant opinions.
My own mom didn’t want me to tell my classmates she was gay, even though she was proudly out. She was afraid I would get bullied.
But I was as stubborn then as I am now, and I did not listen.
I remember people asking me one question about my mom, and the first words out of my mouth?
“Yeah! She’s gay, what about it?”
My mom was so worried other kids wouldn’t want to be my friends because of her sexual identity, but what she didn’t understand is I didn’t want to be theirs. If you don’t like me because my mom is a lesbian, then why should I like you?
If I could wrap my head around my mom’s sexuality and love as a four-year-old girl, then so can you.
Alex Brizee can be reached at [email protected]