I read a post this morning by a blogger I love to not love ("we don't use the word hate, Mommy") who told a story about a call she had from a friend. Her friend, she recounted, wanted to know how she would feel if one of her own kids were gay. The blogger's response was that she would be sad for a while and she might mourn her dreams of the elaborate weddings (to members of the opposite sex) she foresaw after birthing her children as they went down the drain. (Seriously? The biggest hope I had for my kids upon their births was their ability to one day sleep through the night, followed closely by their capacity to feed themselves, because spooning baby mush into my kids mouths was not generally one of my greatest pleasures as was promised in the brochure.) But I digress.
This topic of gay kids is actually something I've thought about many times, mostly because many of my own friends have come out in the last decade or so, and while I imagine that there are many factors that come into play when deciding if and when to come out, I would think that a parent's response (followed by the attitude of the judgey community many of us come from) might play a big role in finding the courage to make this private debut.
To be honest, my general response to hearing a friend is gay is generally along the lines of, "no kidding, finally. Pass the ketchup." I mean, it's my opinion that everyone deserves a little happiness. And who you choose to spend your life with, sleep with, live with or bear children with has no bearing on my life. But whether the people I care about choose mates with whom they might find lasting happiness? That matters.
The other thing is, I don't dream of my daughters' weddings. I didn't dream about my own wedding day prior to the nightmares it lent itself to during the planning stages. I do, however, look forward to a day when my children are made as happy as I am by their own children and that has nothing to do with being married to a boy or being married to a girl or even being married. It just has to do with being a parent. And while I know that my opinion wouldn't get me invited to dinner with members of the GOP (which is totally fine by me), it just is my opinion.
In debating these points over the dinner table, I've heard closed-minded opinions like, "children deserve to be brought up in a home with a mother and a father" or "what message are we sending by endorsing same-sex couples raising kids?"' and my response is ALWAYS the same:
How many conventional marriages end up in divorce? What percentage of married couples actually exhibit loving behaviors within their own homes? How many kids from homes with both Mom and Dad witness unhappiness, loneliness, tension, stress and animosity?
Look, I'm not saying that same sex couples don't fight, don't have stress and don't break-up. All I'm saying is that kids need love, positively and unequivocally. Whether it's from parents of the opposite sex, same-sex parents, black and white parents or a single parent, it's really about love and stability. And where and who and how that love is delivered, as long as it's within the confines of a safe and calm environment, I'm in.
So if my kids decide they want to love someone of the same gender, I won't die. I won't kick and I won't scream. I will be grateful that they have found someone they want to love in a world where the idea of "soul mate" and marriage" seems as antiquated as the notion of "barefoot and pregnant." In other words, what's important to me isn't the need to live by conventions determined by society, but rather it's more important that the people I love make choices that just might lead to their ultimate happiness, however that may look.
Live and let live, people. Live and let live.
Amen!
Posted by: apple | January 06, 2012 at 04:24 AM