I came out to my mother.
In a less conventional way than the normal coming process, of course. I can’t even follow the proper trajectory for a coming out story.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to have a ‘normal’ looking relationship, where I find one person that I want to move in with and have babies with and spend all my time with.” I clarified, “It’s not because I think I can’t have that. I could have had that a hundred times if that’s what I wanted.”
I took another breath before I spoke directly, “I just don’t want a normal long term relationship. It’s not where I want to put most of my energy when I feel like I have so many other things I’m here to do.”
I gauged her body language. The last thing I wanted was to be told, “If you just found the right person, I’m sure you’ll feel differently.” I kept breathing.
She shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have any of the same pressures that I had growing up, where unmarried women were jeered as spinsters and old maids. You have so much more freedom to choose what you want to do! It’s inspiring that you are doing what you want to do.”
And I know this about my mother, but it still surprises me every time. She revels in the choices I have available to me, and celebrates when I choose the unconventional.
