Today is the 5th annual Blogging for LGBTQ Families Day. In light of that, I’ve been thinking a lot about what family means to me.
I haven’t always had the closest relationship with my biological family. I come from a conservative Christian background. When I came out as a lesbian ten years ago, I really rocked the boat. My parents and I have mended our fences, but my older brother and I still don’t talk. I pray every day that we can find a way to reconcile, but the realist in me doesn’t hold out much hope. I will always be queer, and he will always be disappointed in me for that. I miss having a big brother, but there’s not much that I can do about it.
When I was totally estranged from by family of origin, I made a chosen family for myself. God blessed me with a best friend named Nick, whom I affectionately call my Tiggy Piggy. Nick and I came out together. In a way, we grew up together, because I think that coming out forces us all to go through a second adolescence as we relearn how to be in the world. Nick and I have been through a lot together, and our relationship runs deeper than just friendship. I can honestly say that he is my soul mate. I don’t know where I would be without him.
My chosen family has extended in include a lesbian couple who is expecting their first baby, a butch straight girl who drives a U-Haul like she was born to it, two former roommates who supported me when I was home-bound for six weeks, the chosen mothers who threw my graduation party, and a loud-mouthed queer feminist with two neurotic dogs who likes to inform everyone just how fabulous she is. We’re a motley crew. But we’re family. [Read more...]