On Being a Regular Family, Mostly: Blogging for LGBT Families 2008
Like most people, or so I suspect, I go through most of daily life figuring that my day-to-day existence and priorities are similar to most people's. What am I going to make for dinner? Is my kid ok at daycare? How should I handle XYZ at work? Is this pregnancy healthy? What's that smell in the refrigerator?
Most of the time, my normal doesn't draw particular attention. It just is normal.
But every so often, I have to think about how different it is.
Sometimes that's merely awkward, like when a new acquaintance casually asks what my husband does. "My partner works for a government contractor. She does blah blah blah." Usually I babble on a bit until
the acquaintance has regained his or her composure.
Rarely, it's terrible. Like when my partner's petition to legally adopt our son was assigned to the one judge in our county who absolutely positively will not grant second-parent adoptions to same-sex families. It was the first time either of us had been hit with straightforward, uncompromising, unapologetic discrimination. And it happened while we were the stressed-out, sleep-deprived parents of a one month old baby, probably at our low point in coping skills.
(Incidentally, we moved and refiled the adoption petition elsewhere, so that story at least has a happy ending.)
And every so often, thinking about how different my normal is AND isn't, is touching and wonderful.
Yesterday was one of those days. It was Mombian's 3rd Annual Blogging for LGBT Families Day. As I clicked through the various contributions -- 159 at last count -- I kept finding posts that inspired me, defended me, or brought home the cost of homophobia and discrimination, not just to lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered people, but to our families, friends, and communities.
And best of all, I kept finding posts that made me feel normal, like most of you don't see what the big deal is either.
Thanks. From one regular mom to a whole bunch of others.
Original Deep South Moms Blog Post