Lesbian Motherhood & Catholic Guilt

My doctor used to say it was my blood pressure rising like a storm; I called it "My Catholic Guilt." My third grade teacher, a nun the size of a Sumo Wrestler, would declare; "God loves everyone no matter what!" "If you confess and repent, you will go to heaven!" That's comforting when you are 8 years old and knew you told a little white lie in order to spare the pain you would bring your mother, if she found out last night's dinner is now rotting inside her favorite potted plant. Once we understand life, as adults, simple declarations like these are easily dismissed.

Guilt is how I have pushed myself to do many things in my life. Some I knew were wrong for me, like getting married to my first spouse. I knew all I wanted was acceptance and a family, but I did not have to marry him for that. Guilt overwhelmed me when my daughter looked at me, with her big brown eyes, and advised me to become friends with the other parents, for her to have play-days with her classmates. Insightful indeed for a six year old! What she failed to see were my rejected attempts in building a friendship with the other parents. They would give me "the look" that all GLBT people know too well when someone realizes we are different.

As a family, my partner and I decided to move to a prominent neighborhood in Miami. As a couple, our relationship was strong and loving. We had the strength to raise my daughter together and believed our balance would help others understand our situation. Even though most people could not even conceive the idea of our love, I did not feel guilty for wanting a family with her. We had so many plans for our future in that town and for our daughter in the pretty little school. Our dreams were shattered very fast by constant unfairness from neighbors. People would look at us and murmur at the supermarket. They would give us "the look!" Once at the store, we saw two gay men that were a couple. My partner made a joke and said, "We know each other in this town, because we are a rare species for sure!" We laugh about it now, but back in those days we were scared and confused. All we wanted was acceptance!

The anxiety I felt when my daughter announced daily that no one would play with her, is incomparable to any pain I ever felt. My child is a sweet ballerina in an accelerated program. She worried about homeless people and whether or not I would live to see her children's birth. She could not understand why other children would not want to play with her. She could not recognize the signs of discrimination that other children had against her, due to their parent's idiosyncrasies. The blood would speed up and down my body so fast, that it made me dizzy, like if I had just gotten off the roller coaster at a fair.

This type of event reminded me why as a lesbian society wants to disqualify me, from enjoying family life, and acceptance. I felt selfish and guilty for wanting a child! Naive for thinking my love would be enough for my daughter to survive intolerance. The unfairness the world has shown her is the prejudice against me. I felt that my partner's and I professional success, college degrees, financial freedom and love for each other meant nothing to these people. They were determined to reject us in the pure basis of not having a conventional family. What I do inside my bedroom, closed doors, is that important to others? Do I care what they do inside their bedroom? Absolutely, I don't care!

When my daughter was four years old she asked me what it meant to be a lesbian. I explained to her what it meant for me to be a lesbian. I said; "Two women that love each other like Mommy and Veronica, are lesbians!" After a few days of thought she came to me and said; "Mom, when I grow up I think I will be a lesbian too, because I am always going to love you.

For my daughter's sixth birthday party very few children came. After she was never invited to any birthday parties that year, she asked; "mom, why don't we move away from here, to a place where there are more families like ours?" We took the decision, and made that year the last one at the preppy school with gifted children, of wealthy families. We determined we would move to another town, with equally gifted children, but enriched in ways that the children in her old school will never know. The best idea my intelligent daughter has had so far, is to be around other families with our demographics. Unfortunately, we had to move to another part of town, to find acceptance and equality.

My daughter is ten years old now and she imagines herself married to Jessie McCartney, having five children, and practicing medicine as a plastic surgeon. Not very different from other little girls her age! Maybe she is a bit of an over-achiever, but that sure does not come from having lesbian mothers. I believe that comes from having a family of over-achievers.

As my "Catholic Guilt" becomes more of a memory than a way of life, we continue striving to be accepted as a family in the world. We dream soon we can all laugh at this, but today, our struggle for acceptance and equality continues. We must believe tomorrow will be better, and people will treat us like they want to be treated.

Claudia Gatica

"Paiguen Rupanco"