I've never thought of myself as being gay. I dislike labels, and the thought of calling myself a lesbian makes me giggle just a little. But I did marry a woman. A woman who I fell madly in love with, completely unexpectedly. It's always been my thought that I am attracted to a person. Not a gender, not a race, but more a personality, an appearance, a connection. I'm sticking with that. So maybe I guess it could have been expected?
My mom is a lesbian. I've known since I was old enough to understand what it was, even before she actually came out to me. Come on Mom, no boyfriends? Hardly even have male friends? Oh, except for Harry, who barely qualified as one, and some professors who curiously are single dads living with another male! And why do all of these women have short hair, and none wear dresses, and they don't look or act a thing like my friends' moms. And where are their husbands or boyfriends? I learned the meaning of acronyms such as GLB(+TQ after a while), PFLAG, NOW, and GLAAD before I reached middle school. I attended protests of Focus on the Family and other discriminatory entities and marched in my first large-scale pride parade when I was 11. From the time I can remember, it's been a part of my life. A part of me.
I refuse to think that homosexuality could in any way be genetic, or that I became gay because my mom was. But I think what I came to believe from a very early age was that gender didn't matter. I could love anyone I wanted and there was nothing wrong with that. I also learned how hurtful people could be over the issue of love. I remember being chased in the car with my mom by a group of young men yelling obscenities. She had picked me up from school and we were on our way home. I remember being almost in tears, scared, and begging her not to drive anywhere near home until they went away. After a while I blocked out all the cruel things people yelled and did in opposition at parades. I just didn't understand. As a child in that situation, each attack felt as personal as if it had been directed actually at me.
Almost 20 years later, it's disheartening to see that times haven't changed much in so many peoples' eyes. What's worse is to feel that intolerance from family members. I've known for a while that my mom's lifestyle has been the reason for us not having contact with some extended family. I've been fine with that. I never had time to attach with them, so it was no skin off my back, and again, if you don't love my mom then I don't really wish to be around you. As such, my family is small, but supportive. When they learned of my divorce and the start of a new relationship, no one seemed to skip a beat. So ok, what's the next step from falling in love and finding the person you want to spend your life with? Marriage. Yes? Apparently no.
So my grandfather came out of left field last week and said what I did was sick, and not to dare bring Georgi to ever visit. He who has never shown any issues with my mom or issues with me when he learned of Georgi and I.
Obviously it's not just babies. Apparently marriage changes everything, as well.
I hate this feeling. It takes me back to being 11, having a great day meeting other kids of queers, getting invited to march in the parade, feeling like I belonged in a way I couldn't feel anywhere else - being immensely happy - then out of nowhere hearing someone yell
"BURN IN HELL YOU FUCKING FAGS!"
Happiness turned to small, helpless, and hated in an instant.
What I don't understand is why someone can be fine with me loving a woman, but not with marrying her.
Georgi and I were on the local news recently talking about our marriage in California and our feelings after the passing of Prop 8. I didn't really tell anyone at work about it, or the marriage. I've learned that while I don't need to be private, advertising isn't necessary either. I get confused by responses from those who did happen to see it. The only response I get is "you looked so good." Yeah? I guess a "congratulations on your marriage," was too much to hope for.
So I don't really know what ultimate point I'm trying to make with this today. I've just had frustration over this lack of acceptance and apparent discomfort people feel. Society has come so far, but seems so stalled on this issue that shouldn't and doesn't affect anyone but the two individuals involved.
The simple truth is that in Georgi, I found the same degree of comfort I had with the women my mom had around growing up who I was generally enamored by. Strong, opinionated, independent, beautiful, vibrant women. I found that comfort which initially drew me to her, and being near her I found so many more reasons why with her was where I was meant to be. It's made me happier than I could have imagined and filled an emptiness that I didn't even know existed until she came into my life.
I'm in love. I've found and married my soul mate. I want to wake up to this same face everyday for the rest of my life. Where's the problem in that? None. Except the word "lesbian" still makes me giggle a little on the inside.
My mom is a lesbian. I've known since I was old enough to understand what it was, even before she actually came out to me. Come on Mom, no boyfriends? Hardly even have male friends? Oh, except for Harry, who barely qualified as one, and some professors who curiously are single dads living with another male! And why do all of these women have short hair, and none wear dresses, and they don't look or act a thing like my friends' moms. And where are their husbands or boyfriends? I learned the meaning of acronyms such as GLB(+TQ after a while), PFLAG, NOW, and GLAAD before I reached middle school. I attended protests of Focus on the Family and other discriminatory entities and marched in my first large-scale pride parade when I was 11. From the time I can remember, it's been a part of my life. A part of me.
I refuse to think that homosexuality could in any way be genetic, or that I became gay because my mom was. But I think what I came to believe from a very early age was that gender didn't matter. I could love anyone I wanted and there was nothing wrong with that. I also learned how hurtful people could be over the issue of love. I remember being chased in the car with my mom by a group of young men yelling obscenities. She had picked me up from school and we were on our way home. I remember being almost in tears, scared, and begging her not to drive anywhere near home until they went away. After a while I blocked out all the cruel things people yelled and did in opposition at parades. I just didn't understand. As a child in that situation, each attack felt as personal as if it had been directed actually at me.
Almost 20 years later, it's disheartening to see that times haven't changed much in so many peoples' eyes. What's worse is to feel that intolerance from family members. I've known for a while that my mom's lifestyle has been the reason for us not having contact with some extended family. I've been fine with that. I never had time to attach with them, so it was no skin off my back, and again, if you don't love my mom then I don't really wish to be around you. As such, my family is small, but supportive. When they learned of my divorce and the start of a new relationship, no one seemed to skip a beat. So ok, what's the next step from falling in love and finding the person you want to spend your life with? Marriage. Yes? Apparently no.
So my grandfather came out of left field last week and said what I did was sick, and not to dare bring Georgi to ever visit. He who has never shown any issues with my mom or issues with me when he learned of Georgi and I.
Obviously it's not just babies. Apparently marriage changes everything, as well.
I hate this feeling. It takes me back to being 11, having a great day meeting other kids of queers, getting invited to march in the parade, feeling like I belonged in a way I couldn't feel anywhere else - being immensely happy - then out of nowhere hearing someone yell
"BURN IN HELL YOU FUCKING FAGS!"
Happiness turned to small, helpless, and hated in an instant.
What I don't understand is why someone can be fine with me loving a woman, but not with marrying her.
Georgi and I were on the local news recently talking about our marriage in California and our feelings after the passing of Prop 8. I didn't really tell anyone at work about it, or the marriage. I've learned that while I don't need to be private, advertising isn't necessary either. I get confused by responses from those who did happen to see it. The only response I get is "you looked so good." Yeah? I guess a "congratulations on your marriage," was too much to hope for.
So I don't really know what ultimate point I'm trying to make with this today. I've just had frustration over this lack of acceptance and apparent discomfort people feel. Society has come so far, but seems so stalled on this issue that shouldn't and doesn't affect anyone but the two individuals involved.
The simple truth is that in Georgi, I found the same degree of comfort I had with the women my mom had around growing up who I was generally enamored by. Strong, opinionated, independent, beautiful, vibrant women. I found that comfort which initially drew me to her, and being near her I found so many more reasons why with her was where I was meant to be. It's made me happier than I could have imagined and filled an emptiness that I didn't even know existed until she came into my life.
I'm in love. I've found and married my soul mate. I want to wake up to this same face everyday for the rest of my life. Where's the problem in that? None. Except the word "lesbian" still makes me giggle a little on the inside.
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