__/|\__ Namaste. I do apologize for the length of this post. I did not intend for it to be so verbose, but I wanted to properly give a feel for our family life, and mainly just vent and remind myself of how good it used to be.
Well, I suppose some quick background. I am a 41-year old gay male. My teenage years were, of course, filled with all the normal teen angst and drama, along with the drama and angst of being gay. I eventually came out to my parents, who supported me and said that all they wanted for me in life was to be happy and to find contentment.
I met a boy in my senior year of high school who was a junior. We immediately hit it off and we have been together ever since. 'Brian' at first identified as gay, and seemed surprisingly at ease in his own skin, despite the rampant homophobia present in our school. When we went to college, we stayed in contact, and discussed at length the reality that things would probably not remain monogamous over the distance. I was pained by this discussion at first, and decidedly hurt, but came to accept it as the way things were. We were open about the new people we met and casually dated.
Soon I came to realize that he was being more secretive, or rather quiet about his relationships. Where we once shared stories about our dates and how they went, and shared laughs about the ridiculous nuances, he started to withdraw. I finally pushed him on what would be my last winter break from school. He told me he had been seeing women and was afraid I would not approve.
I landed a nice job and bought a house that was within commuting distance to Brian's classes in the 'gay' part of town. It had once been a 'bad neighborhood,' but experienced a revitalization when the gays started buying up all the cheap property to renovate.
We moved in and quickly made it our home. I had lost interest in any of my prior partners on the side, but Brian continued to see this one young woman. I was surprised by how at ease I was with this. It quickly became the norm to ask him how his date with 'Liz' went when he came home on a Saturday or Sunday morning. After a few months, out of the blue, he asked if I would like to meet her. I was at first reticent and fearful that I would experience unfathomable jealousy, but agreed that we should invite her to our home for dinner.
I was as scared as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. When she arrived, it was apparent she too was on edge. But all of that quickly evaporated as we both already knew so much about each other through Brian. I admit I was surprised at how much she knew about Brian and me and our relationship, and how obviously open he was with her. We soon became extremely good friends, with her spending frequent time at our home.
Even when Brian was not around, she would stop by to spend time with me. Brian is not one for orchestral or opera music, which both Liz and I absolutely adore. I found myself in a situation I could have never predicted. As a gay man, with no sexual interest in women, I was genuinely falling in love with her emotionally. While to this day we've never been sexually intimate, we are physically close. Imagine cuddling while watching a TV show, or sharing a bed and cuddling all night.
Obviously such an unorthodox relationship dynamic fit right in and seemed 'normal' in our own queer little neighborhood. Brian's parents were no longer in the picture, as they had long since distanced themselves from his 'deviant lifestyle choices'-- being gay. My parents frequently visited, but I felt that it was prudent to hide this further deviation from societal 'norms' from them. Liz was simply a close friend of ours, in their view.
Liz's parents, however, were/are your stereotypical 'make love, not war' type of hippies. The first time we invited them over for dinner, I answered the door and invited them in, while introducing myself, and her mother said, 'So are you the gay one, or the bi one sticking it to my daughter?' LMAO.
We fell into a sense of normality that just felt right. We were communicative, forthright and quite frank about our wants and desires. Dinner was family time, the time to communicate and openly express what was on our minds, under the agreement of having it met with equal openness and honesty, without fear of retribution or hostility. While it wasn't always perfect, and there was the occasional backlash, things went pretty smoothly for us.
During one particular Monday night dinner, about a year after the two of them had graduated and gotten jobs in their respective fields, I declared, 'I think we should have a child.' Brian spit out a little wine. Liz met my declaration by screaming in the highest pitch I've ever heard her yell, 'Are you fucking insane?' The dog ran from the dining room.
After some serious discussions over the next few months, we determined that yes, we would like to have a child. Liz's concern was of the 'unfairness' to me, as predicated by my being gay, in determining who the father would be. Without going into graphic details, we settled on a way to eliminate this unfairness she perceived, and would not let go of, despite my reassurances to the contrary.
Before we knew it, our lives were turned upside down by a screaming baby boy waking us up at all hours of the night. By now, my family had gotten used to Liz being a part of my life with Brian. I can't imagine that they ever figured it out, but if they did, they sure brought their poker faces.
When Liz came home with the baby, my mother had taken it upon herself to get the nursery ready. She and my father greeted us at the door and couldn't wait to see Liz's little baby. Neither of them knew that the three of us had decided to have a child together. When my mother took our son in her arms she looked at me with a face of shock. 'Christ, John, he looks... he looks just like you.' She looked at my father, who then looked at Brian, Liz, then me. I'm certain that's when they figured everything out.
Our lives were so much richer than we could have ever imagined with our new son, and in a short amount of time he had a baby sister on the way, complements of Brian.
During the third trimester of her second pregnancy, Liz met another new expecting mother at the OB/GYN office. They quickly became friends. 'Carol' was to be a single mother. She was terrified and alone. Unfortunately her entrance into our life was also a time of great sadness for her, when she lost her child during the birth.
As her friend, Liz asked if she could stay with us. Her parents had disowned her for having premarital sex, even though, to clarify, she had been taken advantage of while intoxicated at a party.
We welcomed her into our home to help get her back on her feet. Liz established an immediate rapport with her, and it became apparent that the two women were falling in love. And as they found love in each other, both Brian and I came to love Carol as one of our own. She fit right in and was a perfect match for our dynamic. She came to find genuine peace in our family and home, and was just as good of a mother to our children as Liz.
Our children started growing up. Our son 'David' (5 yrs now) had already established our familial titles of Daddy and Papa for Brian and me, and Mommy and Mama for Liz and Carol, respectively. Carol and Liz frequently took David and his sister 'Morgan' to one of those Mommy and Me activity classes.
David was quickly growing to be a curious and questioning little bugger, like I had once been at his age. The catalyst for our next major family change came one night while we were watching a nature show about a pregnant elephant.
David turned from the TV and looked between Liz and Carol. 'Mama, Mommy, which one of you did I come out of?' The question took all of us by surprise and left me with palpitations and a dry mouth. Carol cleared her throat, 'Your Mommy gave birth to you, sweetheart.' His face belied the gears rolling in his head. 'Oh,' he paused contemplatively, 'Are you still my Mama, though?' We all nodded. It just took a quick few more questions before his resilient little mind wrapped itself around our rather complex family dynamic.
After the kids were put to bed, we had a family meeting, and laid everything out on the table. The discussion focused on Carol and how she felt being a part of the family. With some encouragement and recognition, she admitted that she at times felt like more of an outsider, because the rest of us were bonded by the children. As inconceivable as it is to put into words, Brian managed to sum up all of our feelings when he said, 'So what I'm taking away from this discussion is that, as a whole, all of us feel as though our family is too small for all this love we have?' Carol's emotional dam broke, and we shared a good family cry together.
Carol and I developed a special relationship, which at times surprised me. I found myself deciding she was in fact sexually appealing, and often times found the two of us physically intimate, but only rarely engaging in intercourse, usually when Brian and Liz were particularly heavy for each other, leaving us seeking comfort in each other. As a family, we decided it should be Carol and me to bring our next child into our lives. And another 19 months later, our fourth child, another son, was born, complements of Brian this time.
Soon we came to realize that our family size perfectly fit our Love. Our children spent their formative years in a stable environment. Carol was a dedicated homemaker, and at times the glue that kept us from shattering and flying apart in a hundred different directions. Three professional incomes under one roof made our financial situation much easier than those of our peers and coworkers. And our varying schedules ensured that there was always someone home to take care of everything.
[Yes, there's more...]
Well, I suppose some quick background. I am a 41-year old gay male. My teenage years were, of course, filled with all the normal teen angst and drama, along with the drama and angst of being gay. I eventually came out to my parents, who supported me and said that all they wanted for me in life was to be happy and to find contentment.
I met a boy in my senior year of high school who was a junior. We immediately hit it off and we have been together ever since. 'Brian' at first identified as gay, and seemed surprisingly at ease in his own skin, despite the rampant homophobia present in our school. When we went to college, we stayed in contact, and discussed at length the reality that things would probably not remain monogamous over the distance. I was pained by this discussion at first, and decidedly hurt, but came to accept it as the way things were. We were open about the new people we met and casually dated.
Soon I came to realize that he was being more secretive, or rather quiet about his relationships. Where we once shared stories about our dates and how they went, and shared laughs about the ridiculous nuances, he started to withdraw. I finally pushed him on what would be my last winter break from school. He told me he had been seeing women and was afraid I would not approve.
I landed a nice job and bought a house that was within commuting distance to Brian's classes in the 'gay' part of town. It had once been a 'bad neighborhood,' but experienced a revitalization when the gays started buying up all the cheap property to renovate.
We moved in and quickly made it our home. I had lost interest in any of my prior partners on the side, but Brian continued to see this one young woman. I was surprised by how at ease I was with this. It quickly became the norm to ask him how his date with 'Liz' went when he came home on a Saturday or Sunday morning. After a few months, out of the blue, he asked if I would like to meet her. I was at first reticent and fearful that I would experience unfathomable jealousy, but agreed that we should invite her to our home for dinner.
I was as scared as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. When she arrived, it was apparent she too was on edge. But all of that quickly evaporated as we both already knew so much about each other through Brian. I admit I was surprised at how much she knew about Brian and me and our relationship, and how obviously open he was with her. We soon became extremely good friends, with her spending frequent time at our home.
Even when Brian was not around, she would stop by to spend time with me. Brian is not one for orchestral or opera music, which both Liz and I absolutely adore. I found myself in a situation I could have never predicted. As a gay man, with no sexual interest in women, I was genuinely falling in love with her emotionally. While to this day we've never been sexually intimate, we are physically close. Imagine cuddling while watching a TV show, or sharing a bed and cuddling all night.
Obviously such an unorthodox relationship dynamic fit right in and seemed 'normal' in our own queer little neighborhood. Brian's parents were no longer in the picture, as they had long since distanced themselves from his 'deviant lifestyle choices'-- being gay. My parents frequently visited, but I felt that it was prudent to hide this further deviation from societal 'norms' from them. Liz was simply a close friend of ours, in their view.
Liz's parents, however, were/are your stereotypical 'make love, not war' type of hippies. The first time we invited them over for dinner, I answered the door and invited them in, while introducing myself, and her mother said, 'So are you the gay one, or the bi one sticking it to my daughter?' LMAO.
We fell into a sense of normality that just felt right. We were communicative, forthright and quite frank about our wants and desires. Dinner was family time, the time to communicate and openly express what was on our minds, under the agreement of having it met with equal openness and honesty, without fear of retribution or hostility. While it wasn't always perfect, and there was the occasional backlash, things went pretty smoothly for us.
During one particular Monday night dinner, about a year after the two of them had graduated and gotten jobs in their respective fields, I declared, 'I think we should have a child.' Brian spit out a little wine. Liz met my declaration by screaming in the highest pitch I've ever heard her yell, 'Are you fucking insane?' The dog ran from the dining room.
After some serious discussions over the next few months, we determined that yes, we would like to have a child. Liz's concern was of the 'unfairness' to me, as predicated by my being gay, in determining who the father would be. Without going into graphic details, we settled on a way to eliminate this unfairness she perceived, and would not let go of, despite my reassurances to the contrary.
Before we knew it, our lives were turned upside down by a screaming baby boy waking us up at all hours of the night. By now, my family had gotten used to Liz being a part of my life with Brian. I can't imagine that they ever figured it out, but if they did, they sure brought their poker faces.
When Liz came home with the baby, my mother had taken it upon herself to get the nursery ready. She and my father greeted us at the door and couldn't wait to see Liz's little baby. Neither of them knew that the three of us had decided to have a child together. When my mother took our son in her arms she looked at me with a face of shock. 'Christ, John, he looks... he looks just like you.' She looked at my father, who then looked at Brian, Liz, then me. I'm certain that's when they figured everything out.
Our lives were so much richer than we could have ever imagined with our new son, and in a short amount of time he had a baby sister on the way, complements of Brian.
During the third trimester of her second pregnancy, Liz met another new expecting mother at the OB/GYN office. They quickly became friends. 'Carol' was to be a single mother. She was terrified and alone. Unfortunately her entrance into our life was also a time of great sadness for her, when she lost her child during the birth.
As her friend, Liz asked if she could stay with us. Her parents had disowned her for having premarital sex, even though, to clarify, she had been taken advantage of while intoxicated at a party.
We welcomed her into our home to help get her back on her feet. Liz established an immediate rapport with her, and it became apparent that the two women were falling in love. And as they found love in each other, both Brian and I came to love Carol as one of our own. She fit right in and was a perfect match for our dynamic. She came to find genuine peace in our family and home, and was just as good of a mother to our children as Liz.
Our children started growing up. Our son 'David' (5 yrs now) had already established our familial titles of Daddy and Papa for Brian and me, and Mommy and Mama for Liz and Carol, respectively. Carol and Liz frequently took David and his sister 'Morgan' to one of those Mommy and Me activity classes.
David was quickly growing to be a curious and questioning little bugger, like I had once been at his age. The catalyst for our next major family change came one night while we were watching a nature show about a pregnant elephant.
David turned from the TV and looked between Liz and Carol. 'Mama, Mommy, which one of you did I come out of?' The question took all of us by surprise and left me with palpitations and a dry mouth. Carol cleared her throat, 'Your Mommy gave birth to you, sweetheart.' His face belied the gears rolling in his head. 'Oh,' he paused contemplatively, 'Are you still my Mama, though?' We all nodded. It just took a quick few more questions before his resilient little mind wrapped itself around our rather complex family dynamic.
After the kids were put to bed, we had a family meeting, and laid everything out on the table. The discussion focused on Carol and how she felt being a part of the family. With some encouragement and recognition, she admitted that she at times felt like more of an outsider, because the rest of us were bonded by the children. As inconceivable as it is to put into words, Brian managed to sum up all of our feelings when he said, 'So what I'm taking away from this discussion is that, as a whole, all of us feel as though our family is too small for all this love we have?' Carol's emotional dam broke, and we shared a good family cry together.
Carol and I developed a special relationship, which at times surprised me. I found myself deciding she was in fact sexually appealing, and often times found the two of us physically intimate, but only rarely engaging in intercourse, usually when Brian and Liz were particularly heavy for each other, leaving us seeking comfort in each other. As a family, we decided it should be Carol and me to bring our next child into our lives. And another 19 months later, our fourth child, another son, was born, complements of Brian this time.
Soon we came to realize that our family size perfectly fit our Love. Our children spent their formative years in a stable environment. Carol was a dedicated homemaker, and at times the glue that kept us from shattering and flying apart in a hundred different directions. Three professional incomes under one roof made our financial situation much easier than those of our peers and coworkers. And our varying schedules ensured that there was always someone home to take care of everything.
[Yes, there's more...]
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