Part 3/3 of How Motherhood Brought Out the Queerness in Me
As much as I am enjoying this party of one in making big yet subtle changes that make me feel more grounded in my constantly evolving queerness, I think I have reached a point in my personal journey where I am confident enough about my identity. Thanks to therapy, I have also accepted that there are some difficult steps I need to take, despite previously convincing myself that they weren’t necessary. This included me only discussing my queerness with people who would accept me without any questions, which I now realise was me taking the easy way out. I haven’t had to confront this as much because I have made some very conveniently socially-accepted choices in my life.
I am at that point where I am willing to accept that at some point, I have to take some uncomfortable steps to allow myself to grow further into my most authentic self. Of course, everything that I am doing now is in pursuit of that, and these steps have been monumental in helping me find my footing and sense of self.… But now, an unavoidable step in my journey is ‘coming-out’ to my parents.
I have a problem with this; a big problem! This whole idea of ‘coming out’ to someone, feels like I am being exposed—like I am being put on trial for “deviating from “normalcy”. But recently, I came across the idea of “letting in,” and it struck a chord with me. It felt safer, less invasive, less like confessing something shameful and more like inviting people I trust into my world—a shift that felt empowering and grounding.
I am an only daughter with a very close relationship with my parents to this day. As “open-minded” as they are, and as much as they love me, I know that this is something they will struggle to understand… which means I have to expect some challenging conversations to say the least, and possibly a waiting period where they process, internalise and react—only then will there be potential for acceptance. I’m unsure of what that acceptance might look like, whether it would be whole-hearted, or reluctant. Or maybe the worst outcome—outright rejection.
When am I taking this step forward? I have no clue, but allI know is I am not ready yet. Even as I’m writing this, I can feel this knot tightening in my chest just thinking about what could happen. But as I go further into this journey, I recognise that in my story, I cannot imagine an ending without my parents in it.
So yes, I need to let my parents into this part of my life, and this is a very important part of my life too! And what’s more, I’m always bracing myself, whenever I make choices that might make them question me. I know deep down that this hesitance is holding me back. When either of my parents make those gender-biased remarks that make me so uneasy, I don’t engage—I just let it slide in case I give too much away, and that makes me a bit sad, to be honest. Having said that, I will only do this when I am fully ready. It’s not today, maybe not even next month, or even this year. But when the time feels right, I know I’ll start by grounding myself in the love and respect we’ve always shared, finding the words that feel true to me, and giving them the space they need to respond. So, when the time comes, I will be ready. I will let them in, and I will embrace the consequences as they unfold.
Until then, I’m savouring this party of one, this newfound freedom! I’m more confident in my queerness than ever before, and I’m finally no longer questioning whether I am “queer enough.” Of course, this is an adventure of a lifetime! It is far from over, but I’ve reached a point where I can hold space for the hard steps ahead while enjoying the present.
And the most beautiful part? My son gets to watch his mother embark on this path of self-discovery, acceptance, and love. That, in itself, feels indescribably special. Here we are, mother and son, taking baby steps together and learning what it means to be themselves, what it means to be…HUMAN.
