I knew at a very young age that I was different; by different I mean a lesbian. At about 4 years old, I knew I had a “special” love for women. I was never quite in the closet. I peeked out by hiding behind the term, “bisexual”. I had a boyfriend but I knew I liked women and so did he. I’m proud to say, that even after a 3 year relationship (from 8th to 10th grade, lol), I still made it out as a golden star. By 11th grade I was “fully” a lesbian and “fully” out of the closet. I was proud, why wouldn’t I be?
I told my mother that I liked women when I was 16. That did not blow over well. She insisted that we start participating in church. She didn’t like it and she didn’t care for it. Even though she had met some of my “friends” she never really addressed it again. A few weeks ago my mother came to me and asked, “Is ______ your partner? If so I know you would like me to meet her.” Other than the time my aunt asked me if I was a lesbian, it has been 11 years since my mother and I discussed my “lifestyle” choice. I didn’t push or force feed my lifestyle to her. I didn’t need to. I have always been mostly independent, there was really never a need for my lifestyle and my mother to cross.
I’ve had several girlfriends but I don’t believe just anyone should meet your family and no one was worthy any how. Today, my mother and I went out and I could discuss my girlfriend with my mother. I’ve waited a very long time for this. I’m happy we are finally here. I didn’t have to push, she overcame all on her own, 11 years later and I am ok with that. I didn’t push.