Introducing Your Same-Sex Love to the Family
My mother was One Who Did Not Know. At least not from my lips. I was never as comfortable as Nikki when it came to discussing my sex life with our mother. I’ve contemplated it a lot lately, because my kids are getting to the age for the Sex Talk. I realized with a jolt that my mom never had the Sex Talk with me. My father did. My mom never even prepared me for my period. My dad did that tooâÂ?¦after the fact, granted, but he helped make that one week per month a lot less stressful for me.
None of this occurred to me as I drove with Diva, my kids and a U-Haul to Nikki’s house. I discussed tactics with Diva, and she suggested no news was good news.
Once we arrived, I realized the whole gang was there. Not just my mom but my younger siblings, paternal twins -Bianca & Geri. The only one not present was my older brother & Nikki’s live-in beau. We hung out, took pictures, and chatted. Not once during the whole stay did I speak the words, “She’s my girlfriend,” in my mother’s hearing. I wanted to, but something just would not let me.
I was never really a closet-type. I lived out loud. Except when it came to my mom. I don’t know if I just didn’t want to hear the recriminations or if I was afraid she’d be angry or try to “save me from sin”. Either way, by the time we left, I still hadn’t clarified Diva’s place in my life to my mother.
In November 2004, I was hospitalized and received a blood transfusion. Nikki told me she would come to Florida if I needed her, and our mom wanted to come too.
That prospect made me nervous. Before I left Texas, a bitter friend started telling my family I was leaving to join a sex cult. Her motivation was simple: Jealousy. She wanted me to stay and nothing she did or said changed my mind.
Anyway, even then, I didn’t tell my mother I was bisexual. After a few calls, I mentioned to Nikki, the fact that I had never actually spoken the words to our mom.
Nikki surprised me by telling me Mom already suspected as much. I told Nikki I wasn’t comfortable talking to our mother about it, so I didn’t. She probably still doesn’t understand, but there it is.
Near Christmas, my health improved enough to lower the alarm, and Nikki persuaded Mom a visit was unnecessary. Mom called to wish us Merry Christmas, and was surprisingly gushy.
“I want you to know that I know Diva’s your girlfriend,” she told me.
“OkayâÂ?¦” I said. This wasn’t a conversation I ever wanted to have.
“You’re my daughter and I love you, no matter who you love.”
“Okay,” I said again. “Thanks.”
“Can I talk to Diva?”
Wide-eyed, I offered the phone to Diva, who stared back like I was handing her a hissing viper.
“Take the phone,” I growled.
She took it, and kept her eyes on me. “Uh huhâÂ?¦Yes, ma’amâÂ?¦Thank youâÂ?¦SureâÂ?¦Uh huhâÂ?¦OkayâÂ?¦You, too.”
I took the phone back, mumbled a few things and hung up.
Apparently Mom thanked Diva for being with me when I was sick, and for helping take care of my kids. She also wished her Merry Christmas and told her she loved her.
After a few minutes swimming out of the Twilight Zone, I was relieved it was done.
But to this day, I still haven’t actually told my mother, “I am bisexual.”
I don’t avoid her knowledge of it; I just don’t discuss it with her. It’s part of my sex life, and we just aren’t that close, I guess.