Men In Our Life, The

Off Our Backs, Sep/Oct 2004 by Witherow, Judith K

The next landlord asked Sue if I would have my father sign the lease for us. She told him not to even think about going there. End of discussion. We now had believable references and the will power to fight for what was our due. (In the seventies it was particularly hard for two women and three children to rent any type of residence. Realtors thought children were destructive and women needed a man in the house to maintain order.)

Two years later we were able to buy our own home. We have lived here for twenty-four years. During this time the three boys finished school, acquired jobs and moved into their own homes.

Mom's Coming Out

Years earlier, 1 decided to dive into another river of risk. It was time to talk openly with the boys about the "Q" word. During this time every word but "Gay," "Lesbian," "Queer" and "Homosexual" was used. Words like "Mom," "Sue" and "my Mother's friend" were used in place of the honest ones. Try as I halfheartedly might, there was never a good time to discuss our lifestyle. Fear of losing custody, or their love, was enough to keep the words stuck in my throat like bits of triple-day-old fry bread.

With each year's passing, it became harder to bring up the subject. It wasn't discussed in the beginning because of the very real fear that they could be taken from us. It was the seventies and the law didn't hesitate to remove children from the custody of Lesbians. Their father and the state were two adversaries who could inflict retribution on us while ignoring who the best parents might be.

There was also the understanding that we didn't want them to have to defend us to others. They were already dealing with many forms of discrimination. The last thing they needed was trying to defend their two mothers. It was a risk I didn't want to contemplate while they were young. Now that they were older there was no legitimate reason to remain silent.

With the holidays coming, I decided that it was time to have an open discussion with them. I figured that no matter how it turned out, they would always be able to say, "Remember the Christmas Mom told all of us that she was Queer?" There's a present you'd play hell guessing.

For the benefit of anyone reading about the coming out, I should mention their ages. Number one son was thirty years old. Son number two was twenty-seven and the third son, who still lived at home, would be twenty-three. While you are contemplating the length of time it took to discuss sexual preference, keep in mind that my family perfected the word "dysfunctional."

Without telling Sue, I worked out the words that I was going to say to each son. I wanted to tell each one separately. This would protect them from being embarrassed in front of each other because it was such a personal subject. It would also allow them to express their true emotions and feelings. It was their right. If they were disappointed or angry with me for waiting so long to be open with them, I knew I deserved their reaction.

Remarkably, all three were already aware of my orientation and none of them had any problems with it! However, they all expressed concern that we could be gay-bashed and told me to let them know if it ever happened and they would take care of it. What is remarkable is that they each told me this very same thing on their own! All of their reactions were the same: love, acceptance, and concern.