** Warning ** I intend to speak on sexuality. If you don’t wish to read this from me, I suggest you skip this one.
When my oldest daughter was about nine, she came to me and told me that she liked girls. D’uh, I told her, of course you do, all your best friends are girls. No, she said. I LIKE girls. Oh, okay. Well….
I asked her to wait for a few years before deciding whether or not she wanted to talk to people about this and for her to feel more sure of herself (which in hindsight, this kid has never been anything BUT sure of herself, but I was a young mom and didn’t want her to be feeling any societal push-back before she was mature enough to deal with it). She agreed and again at about fourteen or fifteen she told me she was gay. Cool. Keisha has always known her mind, and we raised her in a home that is accepting of people no matter how they identify. I always told my kids that I don’t care who they date as long as the person is a good person who loves them and treats them well and as long as they are happy. Because really, isn’t that all we can ask for our kids? Besides, I have adult friends who were so scared to come out that they married into hetero sexual marriages and even had children before they were able to fully be themselves. I can’t imagine the pain/courage it took for them to face their partners and speak the words “I’m gay” and then have every single thing in their lives change. But, I’m drifting.
I had a gay teenage daughter. And she dated. We met her girlfriends and some of them we liked and some of them we didn’t. We watched her fall down the rabbit hole of teen love where everything becomes about the other person and you feel like you can’t breathe without them in your life and then we watched her heart shatter after a particularly hard breakup, as a teenage heart does when love ends. There was NOTHING unusual about this with her. It’s the same for all teenagers, regardless of whether they are dating same gender or not. It was no less easy to watch her go through it. She has the same struggles now as any single person, trying to meet someone she can share her life with. Being gay has only changed the players, not the game.
What breaks my heart is that in this day and age there are STILL so many people who think she is something less than simply because she is gay. I am, in fact, incredulous about it. She didn’t ask to be gay. She didn’t decide it. She certainly isn’t trying to be “en vogue” because gay is “in” right now. She just is. And she is still just my daughter. A sister. A cousin. A niece. A grand daughter and a great-grand daughter. One day she will be an Auntie. A wife. Hopefully even a mother.
Now.
Last night. My 14 year old son came into my room. It was around ten thirty and we were all winding down for bed. He had his phone in his hand. He asked me if I remembered him mentioning his friend T. I did. He asked me if I would read something and then he handed me his phone. My 14 year old son gave my his text message to read. T is a biological girl. But, feels like a boy. T has two friends, my son, and a young woman in their class. They are the only two who don’t question T for feeling like he does. T’s parents DO NOT accept this. I get it, and I explained to my son that not every parent can deal with discussing such things, let alone accepting them. I explained that if Keisha had come to me to say she was transgendered, while I would absolutely accept her, I would definitely have to mourn the loss of my daughter before accepting my new son. It’s a complicated process, but, he wanted to know, wouldn’t I still love her? Of course I would. My love for my children is unconditional.
My son started to cry. T tried to talk to their parents about it and now they refuse to discuss it and they are forcing T to by hyper feminine. They insist T wears skirts and dresses. My son wanted to know if T could come live with us if it became necessary.
I read the texts. T is in pain. There were a lot of very sensitive and well, scary thoughts, expressed. Depression, cutting, feeling like everything about T’s body is fundamentally wrong. And the agony of not have parents to talk through this time with. My son cried.
I told him we cannot know everything that is going on in that family. Because it’s not our family, and we are only hearing one side of the story. And no, asking T to come live here would likely do more harm than good. But, that he can continue to be T’s friend and that T is welcome here anytime to visit, to hang out, whatever.
My son asked me how a parent couldn’t just….love their kid. Why the need to try to force that kid to be something they are not. Why not at the very least BE THERE to talk and most importantly, to listen.
I had no answer for him. Because I truly don’t understand that. I wish I did. I told him instead that I loved his heart. That I wasn’t worried for him for his future and his future relationships because he is such a strong, loving person. His heart is so open. It’s just what I wanted in my children. Because they are, after all, the legacy I’m leaving on this earth. What better legacy than a child with an open heart who just loves people, regardless of who they are?
I know my generation is different to previous ones when it comes to understanding that gender is a fluid thing. The age of the internet has made it so that this is an actual social conversation now, which is only to the benefit of us all. People are afraid of what they don’t understand and the more we talk about it, the more understanding can be borne.
I gave birth to five children. Two boys and three girls. One of my kids is gay. One of my kids is a science nerd. Of of them is a music junkie. One of them had a brief problem with drugs and has come full circle to sobriety. All of them are my children and I love them all.
No matter what. Or who. They become.
Nuala Reilly: A Writer's Journey 