So WHAT If My Daughter’s A Lesbian
I attended an open mic at the Magic City Acceptance Center. It’s a safe space for youth with alternative lifestyles. I took my girls, Qadira and Phoenix, with me. I was excited about it because my oldest, Qadira, identifies as pansexual and I had been telling her about the place. She was equally as excited as I was and Phoenix was just excited about going somewhere that she could dress up and be seen. Lol.
We walk into the building and I couldn’t help but smile. I could tell that it was a safe place. A place where you could be yourself and not have to explain anything to anyone. You could just BE. We all need a place like that.
Then, I sat and listened to the stories of these youth who are just misunderstood. Who are alienated and told that they are wrong for breathing. I sat there, in a daze, looking at my children to make sure that they were ok. They were. But I wasn’t. I started to feel like I was growing a tail, purple spots were popping up all over me, and my nose was turning into a trunk. I felt so out of place. I mean, I was torn between the mom in me who wanted to love on these young ones because life was giving them all kinds of shit and feeling like I was eavesdropping because I hadn’t experienced that kinda pain.
I had to go outside and cry. I cried for them. For myself. For my daughters who would have to fend for themselves and find the confidence to love themselves when everyone else tells them who they are is wrong. At the time, though, I couldn’t explain why I was crying. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but I knew that there was something inside that I needed to let go of.
So… rewind to about two years ago…
My husband and I were separated and I started a relationship with a woman. It didn’t last long, but I feel that it served its purpose because Qadira, not knowing that I was bi-sexual because she had only seen me in heterosexual relationships, came out to me.
Now, most of you don’t know me, but I am the make a big deal out of you putting your trash in the trash can kind of mom. So, when Dira came to me with this, I was sooooooooo excited! We have always been open with one another. I encourage communication with my children, even if I don’t like what they are saying. We operate in a judgment free zone.
But this… THIS was HUGE NEWS! At the time of the conversation, she thought that she was bi-sexual. I told her to do some research. She later settled on the term pansexual. For those of you who don’t know what that means, let me share the definition with you. Pansexual means not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity. In layman’s terms, she sees personality and the individual, not their gender or orientation. And I think that’s SO cool. Like, she determines whether she’s interested in a person based on who they are, their energy, the way that they treat others.
Now, I’m an avid Facebooker. I think that my story, or the great things that happen with my children, serve as inspiration to others. I know others’ stories inspire me. So, on National Coming Out Day, October 11th, I made a post about how proud I was of my daughter for knowing herself and being comfortable in her skin and her identity. The responses I got made me want to scream!!!
Some people told me that I shouldn’t be airing my daughter’s business like I did. First of all, her business is my business. And I was given her blessing to share her story because she, like her mother, thinks that we can all learn from one another. Some told me that she was too young to know what her sexuality was. To which I responded that I lost my virginity at 14 and knew my sexual identity well before then. And… my favorite one was that we needed prayer and counseling.
Now, of course, these were sprinkled within the well wishes and kudos for my daughter and her strength. Some people told me how awesome a parent I was and that they wished more parents were like me, theirs included. But we didn’t post it for that reason, we posted it so that others who may be afraid to speak on their identities, because of the naysayers and judgmental individuals, would know that they aren’t alone. This is the same reason that I speak out about my sexual assault and domestic violence experiences (and believe me, I get my share of negative remarks as well, but that’s a post for another day).
Let me tell you one damn thing… just because something may make you uncomfortable doesn’t make it wrong. So, to all of the naysayers, I say…
So what if my daughter is a lesbian? So what if she chooses to be with someone who your Bible thumping, hymn singing self doesn’t understand or approve of? So what if she dresses “like a boy”? If she doesn’t want to date your son because he’s not a kind person and can’t converse with her about music, art, and literature? So what if she’d be so pretty in a dress?
Who made you the authority on what is right? Do me a favor, go have a damn seat somewhere. As a matter of fact, let me pull that chair out for you. My daughter is wise, intelligent, funny, and actually likes herself. Can you say the same?
So, when I cried the other night, I cried for my daughter. I cried for the youth who shared their stories. I cried for the lives that I knew that so many would have to face. I cried for my youth and the pain that it is littered with. I cried and released the pain into the rainy night. And it was freeing.
So, thank you, Magic City Acceptance Center for being a place for those who need shelter from the hypocrisy and judgment of the “free” world.
And now, I say, if you have an opinion, tuck it in your pocket and take it to somebody who cares.
Please check out the Magic City Acceptance Center and their works. We will definitely be back there again soon.
PS If the title confused you, if you are sitting there saying but she’s not a lesbian, do me a favor and tell the people who aren’t aware that there are more titles to gender identity and sexuality that. Because they read this and automatically assumed that this is what my Dira is.
I told this story last year as a part of the Story District’s Out/Spoken event. Give it a listen.