One of my sons loves to dance. There is a specific scene in Moana that comes on and he will run around the house looking for me to dance with him to the drum beats. Dancing with my sons brings me and them such joy. I cannot imagine a household without music and dance.

My wife was not allowed to dance in her household growing up. It was among the religious beliefs her parents held that was preached at their church. Dancing leads to sex, and sex is bad. End result- no dancing. No music with a beat that would encourage dancing. Yes even “Under the Sea” in The Little Mermaid. When we started dating and we went to a gay bar and we danced it was not just the dancing it was the freedom to dance. Together. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I started dancing. It was a mixture between awe, excitement, fear, and hope.

Our dancing evolved over the years. We danced at gay weddings, at gay bars, and then once a year we went to this earthy crunchy herbal conference for women and we danced around the fire circle with a bunch of ladies to the drums. It sounds so witchy and old school weird, but it was wicked fun. I know that makes us sound earthy crunchy, and I’d like to say we are but we are not. I literally want to die after two nights in a tent during that weekend. All the food is provided, and there are showers and bathrooms and a lake. But literally, I want to die. I hate camping, I hate tents, I want a nice hotel room with attached bathroom and shower. But I suck it up once a year to go dance around the fire circle with amazing women including my wife. I may complain a little…okay a lot. We bring wine.

People in general take so much for granted. I can tell you because of our lesbian marriage status, our current administration, our past life history, and our journey forward we never take our life for granted. We bought a house in the midst of this presidential turmoil. We literally had the discussion of do we rent and see if we have to leave the country in exile, or do we buy knowing we could lose everything and still have to leave the country in exile? We bought. I like to take chances. I like to hope. I hope that the world we live in will not be as damaging to our future as we fear.

We do not feel comfortable dancing together at a straight wedding or a straight bar. Other lesbian couples might, but we just don’t. We don’t like the sideways glances or sometimes outright staring. We don’t want to offend anyone and we don’t want to deal with the drama if some one is offended.

Pleasantville is one of my all time favorite movies. There’s a lot of stuff in that movie. It’s a coming of age story for an entire town. It addresses racism and sexism in a beautiful way. It addresses sexual intimacy and love and passion and lust. There’s a part when the “black and white” people start to ban things including dancing and music. Then all the “colored” people (they are literally in color versus black & white) are at the diner hiding and someone turns on the jukebox. Someone yells at him and says they aren’t allowed to do that anymore, and then Toby Keith stands up and says Yes, we are. He lets it play and everyone slowly starts tapping their feet to the rhythm. It’s a powerful moment when the audience is shown they are not going to go quietly into the night without any dialogue, just the gentle tapping of people’s toes in rhythm to the music.

We bought our own house here because we decided we are not going quietly into the night (a.k.a. Canada). This is my country too. We were born here and we want to live here. We own a piece of this country now and like it or not we are lesbians.

We dance too. Every time that scene is Moana comes on and my son’s smiling face comes for me I pick him up and I twirl us both around and around. He laughs and giggles, and clings to me and I think how could my wife’s parents choose to miss out on this? How could they ban dancing? Because banning dancing would ban laughter and these moments where we feel so connected with our children. Every time we dance together I cherish it. Because there will come a day when the thought of dancing with his mother brings a shudder to him instead of a smile. Then I guess it will be my wife and I dancing together again. Dancing will always be our moment of connection to each other and to freedom. Whether we are on a dance floor at a bar, at a wedding, or under the New Hampshire moon around a bonfire, dancing unites us in a way nothing else can.

I work with many young adults who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, agender, etc. One of the most common questions I am asked is about telling others they are LGBTQIA. Recently a client said she would rather identify as lesbian with other lesbians because there is a stigma around being bisexual with lesbians. She also said she would not want to tell guys she is bisexual because they might assume she wants to be involved in a threesome. For transgender individuals they feel compelled to tell people ahead of time if for instance they meet on internet/app dating sites. They do not want to be accused later of misleading some one. But then they are stigmatized online. Then there’s everyday life that happens. I have told some of my clients my journey about coming out and how that has changed and grown over time.

There are situations that are not appropriate for me to disclose I am married to a woman. However the older I get and the more solidified in our marriage we become (and the more of an I don’t care what you think of me attitude I develop) the less I care about correcting people. The person I was at 22 would not tell anyone at work or in everyday life I was dating a woman. I was not comfortable with it. I faced discrimination in high school, I saw my sister face discrimination. I was scared and unsure of myself. I thought telling my family and friends would be the hard part. For me, that was easy. They didn’t care. Literally no one close to me cared. They all basically said “I just want you to be happy.” I know I was lucky to be surrounded by accepting people.

I found out quickly that coming out to one’s family and friends was only the beginning. Every day of my life I am faced with the decision who and when to come out to. Every time I meet a new person I have to try and slip it in somehow, or do I? Every time I am with my sons with or without my wife we navigate questions.

Recently we moved into a new house. We had the plumber over within a week to deal with some issues. He was very nice. My sons were obsessed with handing him tools which he tolerated with a good sense of humor. At one point he asked me about their dad. I said, “Oh actually I have a wife.” He smiled and said “oh okay,” surprisingly not awkward at all, because some people get real awkward there. They start to stutter and then they often tell me how their cousin’s friend is a lesbian. Or their stepsister. Or their Aunt. I generally stare at them like they are nuts. I don’t tell straight people how many straight people I know. You don’t need to tell me your distant connections to gay people. It’s okay. But the plumber handled this all in stride, until he looked at the boys again and then he said, “So how did you get these guys?”

I sort of laughed out loud to myself in my head. I actually wanted to pull up my post on how lesbians get pregnant. But instead I smiled and said “Oh I had them,” end of discussion. He moved on, and asked if we have family around who helps. I said “Just my family, hers doesn’t talk to us because of the gay thing.” He looked genuinely sad, and said “I just don’t understand.” Then again calmly moved on in the conversation and told me we would likely need a new toilet because this one basically sucks.

He was so nice and appropriate and in the span of 5 minutes I disclosed a lot to him about my life. By him asking very general and seemingly innocent questions he hit on two very hot spots. We are gay and my wife was disowned. And those two things come up more than you would think in casual conversation. Because it’s what every one talks about. Who’s your spouse, wow you have twins, you must need a lot of help. These are all natural comments to make. Not many people are prepared for my responses. Honestly, five or ten years ago I wasn’t in a place where I could make those responses comfortably. I was younger and less sure of myself.

I still like to think of myself as young-ish being only in my early thirties. But I am more sure of myself. I told this story recently to a client because I wanted to demonstrate that while I did “out” myself it happened naturally, in the comfort of my own home, with only one other person. The middle of a Baptist church may not be the place to confirm your sexuality. There may be times in your life when you don’t feel comfortable and you don’t have to disclose to anyone. You can always say “It’s none of your business.” It may sound rude, and there are nicer ways to say it, but the message is the same. Everyone wants to be liked, and the LGBTQ community walks around with a core piece of themselves that not everyone likes. It breeds a certain amount of discomfort and fear when meeting new people.

My message to all young adults and teens questioning or firm in your own sexual identity would be to not feel pressured to say anything to any one. You can come out in your own time in your own way. Be prepared for people to become immediately awkward and embarrassed at times. Be prepared to instantly have a soft spot for some one because of how amazing they are when you come out to them. And unfortunately be prepared for negative responses. Because they happen too. I reached a point in my life though where I just don’t care about negative responses. I am who I am, I love my family to death, and I am not ashamed of myself or my family. Like I said, it’s been a decade. That’s a long time. I’ve grown a lot, and still have more growing to do. I also have been through a lot personally and professionally that made me stronger and less vulnerable to fears and insecurities. Whenever someone mentions my “husband” I correct them to wife. But that only started in the last couple years. Previously depending on who it was I wouldn’t engage in that discussion. Or I would just agree. There are certain times and places that I was not going to allow that vulnerability. It sucks that the world is like that, but it is.

For all the friends and family members of gay people just be aware that the coming out phase isn’t a phase. It’s a lifelong dilemma.

 

There are a large percentage of LGBT youth who are homeless. In fact about 40% is the current estimate of LGBT youth between the ages of 18-25. That’s a lot of homeless vulnerable young adults. My wife lived this. Here’s her story.

She was raised religiously conservative. Meaning she regularly heard sermons about how all homosexuals will go to hell. Her family was very encapsulated because they did not associate with anyone outside the church. That included her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. She was dependent on her family and her church for everything. She was also in college full time, and worked as an EMT part time making minimal money. Everything belonged to her parents: her car, cell phone, car insurance, college tuition payments, etc. When she was 20 her parents confronted her about being gay. She told them that she was. They told her she had two hours to pack her things, to leave her car keys, cell phone, house key, and everything else there. They told her there was a homeless shelter in the nearby city. The only way she would be accepted back is if she said she is not gay, would never have sexual relations with a woman, and basically was a good little girl again. My wife packed a bag, texted a friend to pick her up, and then went outside literally to the curb and waited. Her friend came, and thus began a period of homelessness.

Prior to that day her relationship with her family was positive. She loved her parents and sisters, and though she did not agree with the church’s teachings she loved the community it provided. She felt safe and secure in her family and never expected to actually be put to the street.

She was very lucky to have a friend let her sleep in her living room for a couple weeks. In the mean time at work a nurse who was also a lesbian, and married with children, found out about her situation. She told my wife she was welcome to stay with them as long as she needed to. My wife bought a car, obtained car insurance, bought a cell phone, clothes, toiletries, sheets…the list goes on. She did not have a lot of money, and she built up some credit card debt, but she survived. She was extremely lucky to be surrounded by good people. To that nurse- I thank you from the bottom of my heart, because you truly took her in when you didn’t have to. Your generosity and compassion saved her.

The fear she lived with during her weeks on someone’s couch was crushing. She did not know how long she could stay there, she didn’t want to impose on them because they didn’t seem like they really wanted her there. And because she was recently kicked out of her families home she was also in shock. She barely ate for weeks, and she actually broke out in eczema. She never had that before any of this happened, but since then has never been able to get rid of it. I think it was her body’s response to extreme stress. When she moved in with the nurse and her wife she also didn’t want to impose and the nurse had to sit her down and tell her to stop tiptoeing around them, that she was welcome there as long as she needed.

About six months after this whole ordeal I met her. A few months after that we started dating, and she essentially moved in with me. The first couple years of our relationship was rough. It was beautiful but stormy. She was adjusting to this whole new life without her family and her church. She was finding herself. She had to learn adult things that I just assumed every one knew. We had to also struggle with her college because in filling out a FAFSA for people under 22 you have to report your parents income unless you prove that you are an independent young adult. She had to tell her parents not to claim her as a dependent on their taxes. She ended up taking a semester off to get all of this straightened out.

She also grieved. The days and nights I remember vividly and try to forget are those when she would give herself over to grief and sob or rage and become the living essence of pain. When some people lose their families they are maybe okay with it on some level, because maybe their families were bad for them. But my wife was not one of those people. She loved her family and still does. She loved them deeply and the pain at being rejected by them and not just rejected but forced to the street with nothing- that betrayal just consumed her in some moments. It was extremely painful to witness. I eventually got her to agree to go to therapy, which over the course of a few years, did help her tremendously.

The worst parts were when her family would reach out. She would receive an email or card from her mom or dad. I would see her hope. Then I would see her read it, and watch her cry or sometimes just say nothing and hand it to me to read. It would usually  be about bible verses. Verses telling her that her parents were right and she was wrong. Verses telling us both that we would go to hell because of our choices. In phone  conversations she had with them she would cry and tell them how much this sucked, and they would agree, but neither side would back down.

My natural inclination is to get angry about this. In my eyes it’s black and white. They caused her pain needlessly and it makes me angry. My wife would rarely become angry. She would feel sad and blame herself. She never questioned her identity as a lesbian though. Because she knew in her soul that is who she was. On the rare occasion we talked about her being homeless for that period of time she never got mad about it. I told her how fucked up that was of her parents, how their love is supposed to be unconditional. But it was super conditional. She would try and defend their decision in the first couple years. It left me totally flabbergasted. I would look at her in those moments like she was an alien. Because her kindness and her enduring love for her family after they caused her so much heartache left me in awe. And honestly, I just didn’t get it. To some degree I still don’t.

After a decade with someone though I do understand a few things. She loves her family. She regrets that they are not in our life. She wishes they still were. She wishes they could meet our sons. Her only breakdown about her parents in the past few years was after they were born. In our tired state that only twins can get you to I remember she cried one night and said how much she wanted her parents to meet the boys, and how she knew that would never happen. She would forgive them in a heartbeat for kicking her out if they would only ever ask.

I have never been disowned by my parents. They are in my life. They love our sons, they love my wife, and as my dad said, “You graduated from college! I don’t care if your gay.” My mom’s response to me coming out to them was, “Been there done that with your sister.” They are both so proud of my life and my family. To lose that would surely leave a gaping wound in my heart.

I think a few years of therapy helped my wife so much. I think she will never be the person she was before her parents kicked her out. I didn’t know that person, before, but I would have liked to. Many people ask us if we have family support, we respond that my family is around, my wife’s is not. Many people have no concept what it’s like to be disowned. I can tell you from my observations, that it is possibly the most painful and scarring experiences one can have. Sometimes I forget. Because life happens. But then she will say something or we will talk about my parents, or anything, and then this lingering sadness creeps into her eyes and I know she is thinking of them. They are the ghosts that we walk with even though they are not dead.

I think we have both worried how this will affect our sons, and how we will explain it to them. My wife does not want her family seen as villains. Because they are not. They are following the teachings they choose to follow. In doing so though my wife got hurt. Our sons will not know any different. They will not have them and then suddenly not have them. They won’t even know they are missing until they are older. But for that to be their first lesson in discrimination will suck. Because though they preach under the guise of their religious beliefs I still believe at the core of this is discrimination. They have chosen to discriminate against my wife because she is gay. Whether the bible tells them to or not the end result is the same.

I can’t end on such a negative though. The light that came out of this darkness is my family. I would not have my wife as she is, or my sons with her if not for her walk down this path. Writing this reminds me how strong she is and how lucky I am to have her in my life. She had come through and continues to go through such pain to be who she is. She makes a choice every day to wake up and be true to herself at a deep cost. I’d rather my sons see and learn that than anything else. Love you babe.