Wife Envy

One of my long-time friends commented on one of my posts and made the statement, "you just sounded like any ol' mom in your blog about teachers. I was looking for the lesbian kick to it (is there even such a thing??!!). If only you could see the smile on my face and the wink in my eye as I tease you! It's my tongue in cheek way of saying you are no different from me (even though I'm jealous you have a wife...)."

That feedback was priceless. It covered so many facets of why I write this blog. It was also a full-circle moment. The friend I mention has known me since elementary school. So much of my childhood was spent in my own self-imposed isolation, because I have known since I was about seven years old that I was a lesbian (although I didn't know that was the word for what made me different). I didn't want to get too close to many people because I was afraid of the rejection and possible harm that would come from my being open about who I was. Imagine my joy in hearing that not only does she recognize that we're more alike than different, but she also has wife envy!

I think in this case, I have dispelled the erotic image that many associate with lesbians and blown open the doors on the truth that our relationships are just as multi-faceted as our straight peers' relationships. I have to admit that I love that my wife does the cleaning and most of the cooking while I manage the budget and do the laundry and the baking. Add to that task list the shared chores of making school lunches and bath time and story time and there isn't much time left at all for intimate moments together.

So, the "lesbian kick" that many of my readers may look for in my writing, more often becomes a "lesbian undertone." Sometimes, Donna and I marvel at how few of our close friends are also gay. Perhaps it's because there are so few openly gay parents compared to the number of straight parents with which we share our community. The most important criteria for us is finding parents that share our family values. With that as the over-riding criteria for whom we share our lives, the orientation of the parents becomes secondary. Therefore, our orientation, and that of the other parents we know, simply becomes another thread in the weave that makes up our diverse community.

To my friend I mentioned at the beginning of my post, thank you so much for voicing what I hoped would happen as I write Out in Suburbia; that is, I'm just like "any ol' mom." And to the friend I left today as I crossed the street with my son after school, thank you for telling him he has two cool moms. You said that it makes him luckier than more than half the kids in the school. This mom thanks you for making it easy to be all of me. I think you're pretty darn cool yourself.

Happy New Year everyone!