In the wake of the SCOTUS’s landmark ruling on gay marriage, I’m sharing an old piece. It’s funny because despite my protestations here, I actually DID get married in January, but I think the rest of it is a reminder that there are many ways to make a family.
Someday, when I write a memoir, it’s going to be called: Fucked Up Family.
I don’t mean this in the conventional sense. No one in my family is an alcoholic or an abuser, unless you count my mother’s repeated assertions that she was going to string us up by our toenails if we didn’t shut up and eat our dinner.
It’s just that my family is… unusual.
The chapter on my fathers alone … that’s fathers plural, but not in a gay way, although when I came out to one he told me that he’s had sex with over 500 women and that one had turned out not to be a woman in the way he was expecting… (more…)