I am not my mothers’ sexuality. I am not a lesbian. I am straight. But to whom am I working so hard to prove it?
The repercussions of having been raised by my lesbian mothers are vast and dealing with them has been a lifelong process. I have grappled with what it means to be fatherless. I have wrestled with the idea of not knowing half of my biological make-up. I have coped with having foreigners for parents. But I have avoided the personal implications it has had on my sexual identity.
Ever since I was called a lesbian for holding hands with a girl in the fourth-grade, I have made a conscious effort to disprove what I believe to be society’s expectations of a daughter of a lesbian couple. I constantly fear that I will one day validate everyone’s assumptions of me. “Oh your mothers are lesbian? That must mean you’re gay too.” That is what everyone is thinking, right? Or maybe it’s just me.
Since high school, I’ve been known as the “serial monogamous” amongst my friends, floating from boyfriend to boyfriend, never spending time as single. With this constant male presence, I outwardly signal my desire for the opposite sex. Proving to society that, no, I will not follow in my mothers’ footsteps. I will defy both nature and nurture. I am straight.
College is supposed to be a time to “explore your sexuality” and to “try new things”. I didn’t have this freedom. Correction, I did not allow myself to have this freedom. My female high school friends have all hooked up with girls, pushing the boundaries of their sexuality in every which way possible. They are all from Los Angeles after all, and therefore have a wild-child expectation to live up to. The idea of reporting back to them that I made out with a girl last weekend or that I engaged in a threesome with another woman like they all have makes my toes curl and my jaw clench. So I haven’t done these things. I would never ever dare to. I’m stopped by the fear of what my friends would say about me. I can just hear them talking behind my back, “I always knew she would end up just like her mothers.”
I have lived my entire life aware of how my actions reflect on the outward perception of my sexuality. I am working on letting go of this. I am working towards exploring me for me, without the weight of my mothers’ lifestyle holding me back. I am Sacha. I am Fierce. I am not my sexuality.