Written By: Emily Farinella-Collinske
July 13, 2015
I have ten fingers and ten toes. I live in a house. I go to school. I spend time with my family. I am normal. My parents have given me everything; a good education, a roof over my head, plenty of experiences to add to my life, I am blessed. However, by saying the words, "I have two moms." We are lesser than and people's thoughts of me change. "How were you born? Are you gay too? Were you adopted? Is your brother blood related to you? Do your parents kiss in front of you?" The worst one I was asked was, "Who is the man...you know, in the bedroom?" I don't know, nor do I want to.
You don't know me or remember me, and you think I can't see it but I can. I see the looks you give us in public as you try and figure my family out. I see you put us in the back of the restaurant. I see you telling your daughter not to play with me. I see you going up to the headmaster of the school and demanding that I am thrown out because it is an Episcopal school. I see you stare at me when I make two Mother's Day cards. I see everything. Don't you dare think I can't.
No, I don't need a father. No, I am not broken. No, I am not different. No, I will not grow up "confused" or "corrupt." And anyone who says otherwise has never walked my life and cannot tell me how I am supposed to feel.
The Supreme Court ruling that made gay marriage legal is a stepping stone. It is not a victory. It will only be a victory when people won't have to come out, they can just say they are in love. When kids are not taunted in school for being gay or having gay parents. When people are not forced out of work for their sexuality. When people stop taking their lives over their sexuality and gender. When I can tell people about my parents and not get asked questions or get looks. It will only be a victory when we are all equal.
My parents have provided a good home for me for seventeen years. My parents have paid for an education. My parents take me on vacation. My parents take care of me when I am sick. My parents throw me birthday parties. My parents love me. We are a family. We are all the same.
So, tell me, how the hell are we not a real family?