Dear LGBT Community,

I am not your daughter. I never carried a flag in one of your gay pride parades. I have never written a letter on your behalf to a congressman or anyone else, and I have never felt the need to make people accept the fact I am the daughter of a lesbian. Perhaps it’s because she never felt the need to force people to accept her for being one.

I myself am a product of the Lesbian Revolution of the 1980s. My mother always knew she liked girls, but tried hard to be a good, straight, southern Baptist girl. When I was a year old, she left my dad for another man, whom we lived with until I was somewhere around four years old. After the divorce, she told my father to leave, which he did, and in his own words, “I did because I knew I couldn’t fight the entire family to see you.” I cannot remember the man she left him for very well, but I can remember being happy living with him. It did not last, however, and when she left him, she left him for a woman.

Silencing People about Homosexuality Won’t Change What Kids Can See

I knew from a young age that living with two women was not natural. I could especially see it in the homes of my friends who had a mom and a dad. I spent as much time with those friends as I possibly could. I yearned for the affection that my friends received from their dads. I wanted to know what it was like to be held and cherished by a man, what it was like to live with one from day to day.

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