Story - Birds of a Feather...
Ten years ago, I decided I was going to tell the whole world I was gay. I remember feeling extremely anxious and scared about what my family would think. I wanted to be happy, and this was the only way I could think achieving happiness. If I would have known back then what I know today, I would have come out much sooner.
I am the oldest boy of a family of 5 children: 4 boys, 1 girl. My mother was a nun before she met my father. This means that I was brought up in what can only be described as an insanely Christian household. Growing up, I remember my mother telling me that gay people were here to serve God. Gay people were God’s way of calling them to the cloth. So you can understand my fear of coming out.
Much to my surprise, (and almost disappointingly so), my family reacted positively to it all, and well, I just continued on with my life until 4 years later… it all changed.
I received a phone call from my mother late one evening. She hummed and hawed for a while and was in obvious distress about something, so I finally asked her what was wrong. Well, I was not expecting her to tell me she was a lesbian or that she was living with a woman! This was quite the shock. My mom, a lesbian… but that’s weird… it’s not normal… or is it? I tried to play it cool over the phone, I mean, it is wrong to discriminate on the basis of sexuality, isn’t it? But, this is my mother we are talking about. I don’t want to think about her like that! My mom is the kind of old woman who can be seen sitting in her rocking sewing and watching her favourite television shows. She takes care of people with disabilities for a living, and makes quilts to keep the people she cares about warm at night… NOT A DYKE! Wow.
Well eventually, I decided it was time I met my new mother, or father, or is it step-mother? Step-father? I decided to call her Stephanie, it was simpler. So, off I flew to Moncton, NB to visit my two mommies. Well, the real shock came when I saw Stephanie: dressed in Nike gear from head to toe, looking like she just ran off a soccer field. Oh dear, my mother found herself a little mini-Pelé! I was so freaked out by all of this that I forgot my luggage at the airport and had to go back later that evening to get it! But isn’t this wrong? I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Gay people are just like everyone else aren’t they? Hell, I’m gay too! I should be happy for my mom. But, what are the neighbours and the relatives going to think? Christmas dinner is just not going to be the same.
A few months went by and things went surprisingly well. Having a lesbian as a mother was sort of cool. And turns out, Stephanie is a wonderful woman, and she makes a killer chicken soup! (She brought me some when I was sick with the flu last year). So, I think I’m pretty lucky to have two mommies. And I have the best ones in the world, I’m convinced of it. I love them both very much. But, wait… there is more.
Then, my little brother came out. Holy crap! Is there something in the water? At this point, I figured, oh well, another queer in the family can’t hurt. Then, my uncle came out, and then a couple of my cousins did too. We are just one big happy (ahem) family now! And I was right, Christmas is not the same. At all!
Now that we are all out, Christmas, family get togethers and other functions are a lot more fun. There are no more embarrassing questions about getting married, or having children, or that woman that your mother lives with. We are all very happy in our non-traditional-extended-French-catholic family and I wouldn’t trade it for the world!