Growing Up With Two Moms
Jamie Lumetta
Thinking about what my topic for this blog should be, I considered talking about my own experiences in the LGBTQ+ community, I considered talking about recent news within the community or even trying to research past movements. However, I realized that I have a unique perspective within my own family; one that has allowed me to educate myself and those around me about the history of the queer community.
The “normal” family structure is a mother, a father, and kids. But for me, growing up with two moms was my normal. While I knew that most kids had one mom and one dad, I never thought my family was weird. But in elementary school, other kids would tease me or ask where my dad was. Of course, in second grade, very few kids had learnt about queer couples, let alone been exposed to one, but I was singled out from the rest of my class. I could only relate to one other person in my class, a girl who only had one mom. Although our situations were different, we shared the tiresome task of trying to explain what a sperm donor was and holding our ground when they insisted that we “had to have a dad.” By the time most other kids around the country learnt what being gay or lesbian actually meant, the kids in my class were already very familiar and comfortable with my moms.
As I got older, though, my view of my family changed. Where I used to be annoyed by having to re-explain my moms’ relationship or embarrassed at the funny looks people gave me when they heard I had no dad, my heart began to swell up with pride whenever someone asked. I loved that my family was different, and had something that automatically made it unique to anyone who met us. And having two people who had gone through discrimination and hatred within their own lives, made me more confident to stand up and defend the legitimacy of my family.
Of course, having two moms was more beneficial to my sister and I than anyone could know. The courageous role models I had as parents shaped the person I am today, giving me more passion and ferocity for the things I love than I believe I would’ve had without. I remember listening intently to my moms telling us stories about their coming out stories and meeting each other. My moms came out in a time when gay marriage was not yet legalized. Although their backstories were both very different, they ended up meeting in a Lesbian Avengers movements group, fighting for their rights as US citizens. Even though gay marriage was eventually legalized, they have only ever been able to receive a civil partnership. This, as my moms explained, meant that our non-biological mom had to go through the chaotic legal process of adopting both my sister and me. It may not seem like much to read about, but the 14 extra paperwork folders, the ongoing explanations that “No they’re both my moms” and “No, they’re not sisters,” says otherwise. Even though it is a situation I wouldn’t trade for anything, having to prove that my two moms are as normal as a mom and dad is exhausting. And that’s not even getting into the confusion that a two and four-year-old has when Mom says, “While we’re on holiday in Iran, if anyone asks, we’re sisters,” going against everything we’d just worked so hard to explain and understand ourselves.
Having two moms is still one of the most unique and amazing things I love about my family. In the end, it made me into the person I am today, and I mean that completely.
