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 My Mom's a Lesbian
Lesbians have often been accused with filling their children with their own fears and hatred. I can't speak for everyone, but I can honestly say that after considering the joys and the pains in my past, and any troubles I have in understanding my present, none of these were due to some sort of ingrained fear and hatred placed in my by my lesbian mother.
I was eleven when my mother sat me down and told me she was a lesbian. It meant nothing to me. She kept her sex life out of the small one-bedroom apartment we lived in. How many children really know much about the sex lives of their parents. I mean, as far as me and almost everyone I know goes, we'd rather pretend that they had sex only as many times as it took to make us. And that was for procreation purposes only:all right, so we were in denial, but it was a happy ignorance.
I met lesbian friends of my mother's who also had kids. I do recall our wishing our mothers were more attentive to us than to each other. But I was always complaining about everything at that time in my life. I liked the attention that complaining about not having attention got me!
Ironically I don't think any of us really knew what our mothers' lesbianism really meant. Since my mother had sex with the same sex, I never had any feeling that homosexuality was wrong.
I've always been comfortable with my sexuality, and that of my mother, as have those children with whom I grew up. Really I don't see much of a difference between growing up with two mommies and growing up with parents of both sexes. I guess it all has to do with how you're raised!
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