Being a Lesbian and a Mom

Yup, I’ve got three kids. Because I’m rather protective after a strange, pedophilic type encounter online I do not give out tons of information about them. I can, however, tell you that they’re reasonably close in age and the first two are called Irish Twins. They have two separate biological fathers between them, neither of which are always as active as I’d like them to be. So, a lot is left up to me and I’m okay with that, we manage.

However, my oldest child approached me recently after a long weekend with her paternal family, who can all be very helpful- until now. This was the conversation that followed:

Her: “Mommy did you know that, sometimes, girls kiss girls?”

Me: “I imagine that, yes, I did actually know that. Go on.” I’m highly amused at this point, wondering where this is going as she’s normally a very insightful child.

Her: “that’s bad though. Girls aren’t supposed to kiss girls and boys aren’t supposed to kiss boys. It’s gross and really, really bad.” End amusement, begin heartbreak.

At that point, I felt as though I had been slapped in the face. With a chair. I was so dumbfounded and confused that all I could do was tell her we would talk about it later and send her on her way to play with her toys and brother. I needed to sort myself out first, this was never supposed to happen. I was numb. It didn’t take long for the pistons in my brain to start firing again, putting it all together.

All of my children are highly intelligent. They get that, of course, from me. I have taught them from the word go, to question and challenge everything. Just because the weatherman says it’s raining, doesn’t mean it is, look outside. I want them to learn to verify for themselves, not to instantly trust and believe. Until that moment, they always had. Sometimes, with all of their evolved beauty, I forget that they’re still children, still impressionable. I knew what had happened in that moment. Someone had sent my own child to take a personal shot at me and it worked.

So, I called a meeting. We sat on the love seat in my living room and I posed a question. What is wrong about girls kissing girls? Why, pray tell, is it so bad? She had no answer, because she was only going off of what she was told. So, I asked her, if people were different than her, did that make them bad? Because she was different than them, did that mean she was bad in their eyes? Then, she got it. I could literally see the wheels in her mind working and the light click as she grasped the concept. She then said:

“it’s not nice to be mean to people.” Yes, she’d grasped the entire concept in those few seconds. I agreed with her wholeheartedly,

“would you like to play a game of pretend?” I asked. She lit up and nodded. I gestured about our living room “let’s pretend we’re at a party, okay? We’re sitting here, *just chillin’*. There’s some big girls over there and over there, there’s two girls kissing. Over there, there’s two boys kissing and over there, that girl was born a boy.” These were simply the first things that came to mind for me and going much further into the spectrum could confuse a child her age. She nodded, getting the visual. “Do we make fun of the two girls kissing?”

“No, that’s mean.” She replied.

“Do we make fun of the two boys kissing?”

“No.” she replied, “it’s not nice.”

“Good, good, you’re following me so far. Do we make fun of that girl because she weighs more than us?”


“and that girl who was born a boy?”

“No, we’re friends with everybody.”

“That’s right.” I said, “because you shouldn’t pick on people because they’re different than you. It doesn’t mean you’re better, just different. Now, why do we not make fun of those people?” So help me, I meant for her to answer ‘because it’s mean’ or ‘I’m not a bully’ or ‘they’re just different’…something along those lines. Instead, she cocks back in her seat and gives me this superior look. As seriously as she can, she replies,

“because we’re *chillin’*.”

Parenting. I think I’ve got it.

For those of you that may be wondering, no, I have not sat my children down and had the “mommy is a lesbian” talk. I don’t have to, because there’s no reason to. I don’t see why they should need an explanation when, to them, two girls kissing is commonplace. Now, on to my nephew. As I’ve just thought maybe you’d like to hear this story as well. I’ve changed everyone’s name of course. Flutterby is my sister, bumble her son. He’s a year older than my oldest.

Bumble: Hey, mom, does Aunt Val like girls? She kissed Jane earlier.

Flutterby: yes, she does.

Bumble: so, then, are Jane and Aunt Val…girlfriends?

Flutterby: yes.

Bumble: That’s gross. Kissing is gross. (kissing in general, here, not just two girls. Cooties and all that rot, you know)

Flutterby: You’ll like kissing when you’re older.

Bumble: So Aunt Val and Aunt Jane are girlfriends now?

Flutterby: Yes, does that upset you?

Bumble: *shrugs* nope, just wondering. I don’t care who they’re kissin’, s’long as they’re still playing with me.

And there you have it. It’s that easy for a child his age (he’s still in the earlier years of elementary) to grasp two girls being together. Since then we’ve discussed many things amongst “the cousins” and there’s never been any problem with comprehension, they don’t care. It’s not that difficult.

For those of you that want to know, no. I have no idea who had my daughter say that to me, I really don’t. I don’t care either, as I’m not interested in any sort of drama and as that’s been long enough ago to be able to tell, it didn’t affect her. It was merely a speed bump she went over that she recovered from with grace and ease. I’m not interested in any drama with them, I’ll allow them to believe how they want and I always put it upon my children to make their own decisions and form their own opinions. For example, her only problem with the girls I date is that they tend to have short hair- usually in a fauxhawk sort of style. This disturbs her as it cannot be put into a pony tail therefore disrupting her need for all of her pretty baubles to go in it. *That*, apparently, is unnatural to her hair and purse obsessed mind. We’re okay with that.


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