My Two Dads

My two dads! Double the love. Double the fun.

Most girls get one, but I scored two.

My parents divorced in 1980 when I was 10 years old, and my dad came out of the closet soon after. I’ve since learned he was in the first wave of “Gaybe Boomers,” and I was in the 1st wave of children raised by openly gay parents.

By the time my dads met and got together, I was a pre-teen. As we all know, this is an awkward age; all I wanted was to blend in.

It was an almost unbelievably different time for gay men and women in the late 80’s and early 90’s. It was BWG (Before Will & Grace). Pride Parades were sometimes dangerous. Protestors picketed and people yelled at my family, with even little kids shouting really hateful things about people going to hell.

All I could hear and see was that my family was bad.

It was deeply personal. And incredibly hurtful.

For a while, I just wanted to hide my family’s truth. I didn’t talk about having gay parents. I wasn’t proud. I was scared and felt really alone. And I was very worried for my parents.

It took me years to learn that what a lot of us do over time and with age: what makes my family different is the very best part, and ALL of the heart.

Thankfully, growing older came with hard-fought confidence. As an adult, it’s much easier to see the amazing beauty in being different. Being different IS the beauty.

Its easier to tune out ugly noise once you’re armed with age and life truths. It also doesn’t hurt that our culture grew along with me to embrace all sorts of Modern Families.

It was a very hard beginning. But the lessons I learned are absolutely priceless.

I’m so grateful to have learned from my family how important it is to be true to yourself. Be true to who you are. To celebrate the differences. The differences are your very own treasures.