When I started this blog more than a year ago, I planned to write about getting pregnant and becoming a gay parent. But that story ended up being a book – a long one. Instead, this blog became a bunch of stuff about being a gay parent.
But, now I have a problem. The more I gay parent, the less gay it seems. These days, it mostly just seems like parenting, unless I kiss Pam in a public place in front of our kids. That still feels pretty gay.
And speaking of kissing people in front of strangers, we should keep doing that because sometimes it can result in national television coverage, which is great promotion for your blog if you happen to be a black, gay NFL football player. And also because people are still surprised if you’re gay and black and a football player all at the same time.
But other people don’t seem to care anymore if you are gay. Or, at least, my dad doesn’t.
“Stop telling people you are gay. No one cares if you are gay. Talk about something that matters, like the sage grouse in Wyoming,” he said.
My dad is a biologist, so his marginalized group is the sage grouse. I understand. They have rights to fight for, namely their own legitimized breeding ground. I can relate. But we are getting off track here.
My original point was about whether or not I’m feeling particularly gay. I’m not.
And as you may have already anticipated, this conversation, which was happening mostly with myself at this point because my dad is sick of talking about being gay, continued in my head. If I wasn’t feeling particularly gay right now, then when did I feel really gay? In 1997.
I was wearing men’s shoes a lot back then, and I had short hair. But then, more than 10 years later, I got pregnant and I felt super gay. I looked really straight, but I felt really gay.
There has been no other time in my life when people inquired more about “my husband” or searched my left hand more often for a wedding ring. But I was neither married nor heterosexual. But all of the assumptions started making me feel more self-conscious about being gay. So, I felt more like I needed to announce it to people which, I’m guessing, is around the time when my dad started feeling irritated by my constantly announcing that I was gay.
I suppose the moral of the story is that things have changed. (Is that a moral?) To feel gay, I used to need to look gay. And now it’s the opposite. If I want to feel really gay, I just need to act or look really straight. So next weekend, I’m going to have a spa day with my girlfriends, shave my legs, get my nails done and really gay it up. Just don’t tell my dad.
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