Then election day last year I find out that both my mother and sister voted Yes on Prop 8. I had assumed that of course they would vote against it. They wouldn’t vote on something that would target me for discrimination. I came unglued over the phone with them. I told them that we needed to have a little family meeting soon. We all spent Christmas together (including my partner who has spent every holiday with them since we’ve been together). Nothing is said, I know I am too angry to talk about it and there people other than family in attendance. A few weeks later, when I felt that I could talk without losing it, we get together. I explain why I felt so hurt and let down, and ask how could they vote to pass a law that singles me out for discrimination. What do they say? “Well, you never told us you were gay”. “We thought maybe but, you know, when you and *current partner* got together we were confused”. “Since she was married to a man when you met her, we knew she wasn’t gay”. WTF!!!!!

So, at 48 fucking years old, I came out to my mother, sister, neice, nephews. Answered questions and took on most of the blame for not telling them sooner. Better late than never I guess. By the way, they have since changed their position on Prop 8, so they will vote the correct way when there is yet another gay marriage measure on the ballot in CA.

I told my dad a few months later, but I suppose it got to him some other way first. He said “I know already” and that was that. It’s the thing we don’t talk about.

My mom flat out asked me…. “Are you a lesbian?” lol

My dad laughed. He does that at inappropriate moments, especially when he’s nervous.

My mom told me that she had always suspected I might be a lesbian. (My mom does not like to think that she doesn’t know something, so by now she’s searched her memory banks for every shred of evidence that may indicate that I was a lesbian…)

Then my mom told me that if i had come out to her twenty years ago, she would have accepted it. I laughed so hard I fell off my chair…twenty years ago one of my best friends was a gay man, and my mom accused him of trying to convert me. And told me if I did share an apartment with him (that was the plan) that she would never visit me.

one day i’ll tell you about the conversation i had with my mom – years later, while trapped in a moving vehicle – about why i choose “women who look like men” (her words, not mine…but “butch” is still not in her vocabulary, and i’m okay with that)

however, my parents have been pretty great. my mom even gave T. his t-shots when we were on vacation visiting them (she’s a nurse).

she’s still struggling with the “gays having children” thing, but we’re working on that. (though it’s unlikely to happen for me personally, i *do* think it’s important to keep having the conversations) that said, i can almost *guarantee* that if i decided there were babies/kids in my future (aside from the ones already-my-size in my classes!), she’d be pleased-as-punch to be a grandma.

now if only i could find a partner who they could really get along with and *understand*… (is it crazy to want that? a stellar, smart, witty, [tall], strong, brave butch who can fit somewhat-seamlessly into my extended-Waltons-type family?)

*squishes*
~k