Often I feel silly for even beginning a dialog about gay and lesbian parenting—partly because I’m bisexual not lesbian, but partly because it always seems like an issue that should be over by now. It’s taken up nearly half my life. I often don’t even have to think about it anymore, but yet, in the paper and on the news and online there it is—–people, good Christian people insinuating that the children (for they are always thinking of the children) of gays and lesbians are somehow degenerate. What will become of them? They ask.

And that’s bothersome and cumbersome, isn’t it? If I exhibit any streak of wildness, it’s the upbringing that made it so. If I cop to having a husband, two kids, two cats, and two mortgages, then I sound like I’m over compensating.

Right now? I almost wish we all lived in Iowa. I’ve never said that before.

So as long as a good chunk of my fellow Californians are being denied rights—rights I ‘m not even clear on wanting for myself at times, I guess I’ll keep writing. Silly again. I might not even be an advocate. What I say I’m sure will be misinterpreted.

The irony oh the irony. Every time my mother has hinted at my own sexuality I’ve come out to her time and again. I am married to a man, yes. But I have a thing for women. And one woman in particular. And I get confused at times because having grown up during the 70s and 80s mostly in California, sometimes in San Francisco, and also a Women’s Studies major, it seems that freedom of expression should be a given. But people want you to choose.

And then again? I hang out with the other freaks. That one person in their families who is a little off. Surround yourself with fellow freaks and it becomes difficult to discern what is crazy and what is not so. And so some friends look at me like SO WHAT? big deal. And I like that. But then I’m at the bar on a Friday night and I make a pass at some woman for fun or just say something flippant and all of a sudden the men are holding onto their wives like I’m going to jump them.

I cannot imagine being any other way. Why wouldn’t a day with your girlfriends end up in a make out session or someone writhing on the floor and someone else doing what some boyfriends and husbands find difficult to do?

And am I this way because they were this way or did I find it on my own?

As of July 23rd–on their twentieth anniversary, my mother came out to our tiny community and married her long time partner. Their marriage license was published in the local paper for every redneck in our local yokel town to see. Hardly anyone bothered them. My mom’s partner, L,  goes to the local Catholic church and had three people go hysterical on her and threaten to ex-communicate her and yank sacrament from her mouth after every service–but other than that? Either people are just keeping it to themselves or they don’t care.

It almost seems weird that there is so little backlash. It’s certainly fucking with us–the adult children who’ve had to endure both the perceived societal backlash and our parents feeling like they are so very special. Our silence has been demanded for so long. For so long we’ve not been allowed to even refer to the other aspects of our family life. Now it is all out. My mother is a lesbian and it means next to nothing. Is that how it should be?

It was a lovely, albeit predictable, ceremony. They’ve been to the cursory spirituality women’s retreats. Found symbols that represented them, had Anne Murray’s “My Secret Love” playing as a recessional. Honestly, the only thing that didn’t happen in the predictable realm of middle aged lesbians is that there were no big dogs in attendance. The brides wore their casual L.L. Bean best. No one gave anyone away. And I found some dias de los muertos brides for the cake. They cried and were so moved. So was nearly everyone in our small gathering. There was no dancing, little drinking. It was a serious lesbian affair.

My three year old daughter had something to say about it which can be read here at http://parentingsquad.com/same-sex-same-cake

So the reason for the blog? Since they are out now, I’m going to be out now. I am the daughter of a lesbian mother who came out to me in junior high school right after I caught her kissing my best friend’s mother. My mother at the time was married to my stepfather–a twenty year army lifer who was also gay. All of their friends were gay. All of their friends were in the military or affiliated with it somehow. I have a brother who is arrow straight but loves opera and cooking. I have me–a married woman who–every once in awhile–gets the woman craving and has considered herself bisexual for twenty years.