I'm From Driftwood

by Amanda Bergeron-Bauer

by Rebecca Allen

I was raised Southern Baptist, like so many other Southerners. One thing was made very clear in my religious education: homosexuality was a one-way ticket to Hell. So you can imagine the horror I felt when I realized in 3rd grade that I liked my best girl friend the way the other girls liked boys. I stuffed it down, and as I grew into middle/high school I became very promiscuous – with guys. I did everything I could to prove to myself it wasn’t true, and I prayed every night for hours for God to take it from me, because I was so scared I would go to Hell, but I couldn’t seem to shake the feelings I was having about other girls.

Then I met Brianna at the age of 16, and the first time I kissed her the whole world shattered. I could no longer deny what I knew about myself…I was a lesbian. Brianna and I were together for about a year before our parents caught on. That was an unfortunate incident in itself. Bri’s mother came home early from work and found us sleeping in her bed together. On top of the covers. Naked. Needless to say there was a lot of screaming, and she called my parents to tell them what happened. So I didn’t really have to “come out” for myself. I was threatened with a “Pray the Gay Away” camp, so I threw myself back into the hetero scene, marrying my best guy friend at the age of 21. He knew I was gay, but we really cared about each other, so we thought we could make it work. You can guess how that ended, but I did get two beautiful children out of the deal. By the time we got divorced, he had turned into a raging alcoholic and I had fallen in love with his best friend’s wife (a love that was returned, for a while), so it was just a big mess. That fell apart (how could it not?) and I moved states to return to my hometown.

Obviously, I had to come out again to my folks as an independent adult, and found that it really wasn’t any easier. They have struggled with it because of their religious beliefs, but I truly think they have made some major headway in accepting who I am and seeing it’s so not a choice. At least we’re moving in the right direction, and I am so very thankful for that.

After a few failed attempts at relationships, I met my partner, online of all places. I could not find a more devoted, sweet-souled person. We have been together ever since, raising the kids as our own, and I am finally in a place where I can be honest with myself and others around me about who I am. Now I’m working on my degree and my writing career, as well as being an LGBT activist. My life is so full and so wonderful…I would not change a thing.

You can be gay AND happy. AND successful. AND fulfilled. For everyone out there still struggling, hang in there, baby. We’re all behind you.

by Mari S.

When you’re a kid no says when I grow up I want to be a mom, especially a single lesbian mother of two. You see in my household homosexuality was not uncommon. I had 2 gay uncles, and another who was bisexual, my mother’s best friend was a MTF transsexual. It only became an issue when I tried to come out and being an only child made it a bit harder. To make a long story short and not go through the history of my adolescence and half of my adult years; to make my mother happy I ended up living a double life. Two daughters later I decided that I could no longer live this lie and although I came out to everyone else in my family I finally came out to my mother and mentally sent myself free.

I thought then that telling my mother about my sexuality would be the hardest thing I have ever done but that was not the case. Being a mother of two made dating a complete headache and emotional roller-coaster. You see with lesbians there are no grey areas when it comes to children. It’s either black or white, my kids were either a deterrent to some while for others an excuse to hold on to me. I’ve dated quite a few women over the years but the one that affected me the most because my kids became a big factor in our relationship/breakup, it would have to be with my ex-girlfriend from 2007-08. We were together for 8 months and there were little things that I noticed about her behavior towards my kids. She was very standoffish and tried to spend the least amount of time with them as possible and it bothered my kids especially my oldest who always asked why was my ex so boring and she never wants to do anything with us like this person did. When I would ask she would give excuses and say she was tired but it was all a bunch of bullsh**. In the time we were together she had never once mentioned to her family mainly her mother that she was seeing someone with kids, all she mentioned was that she was seeing someone. It made things difficult for us. That along with the fact that she listened to what everyone else had to say about her being with a woman with kids, and could not make an adult decision for herself. The last weekend we spent together I knew something wasn’t right and the day she left to go back to her perfect suburban life she tells me, “We need a break. I just really need time to find myself and what I really want.” Although broken-hearted I let her go. Months go by and my friends are like, “Mari, c’mon, you really didn’t believe she needed to find herself right?” More like she needed to find someone who didn’t have kids. Not too long after I found out she did when she showed up without my knowledge to my birthday party with a date. My friends were right and although it hurt I had moved on and was with someone that accepted the fact that I had children and things eventually fell into place for everyone.

My point is, my story is that my children are a blessing to me and I have had some great relationships and dating experiences but I have also had some bad ones. I never let a few bad apples ruin it for the whole tree. Quite honestly it is in those relationships that have made me more grateful to be a mother because I achieved something most never will. Plus the fact that my daughters rock and I would rather spend my weekend with them than on a date, because we all know that lesbian drama makes baby Jesus cry…

-(Share your story with us!)

It has been 13 days since one of my moms died. She had become sick very quickly, and then the call came; the call I wish had never come- she had died. When I was three my mom fell madly in love with Linny (my other mother). They loved each other like I have never seen love before – for 20 years they loved each other. Linny helped raise me. She read Are You There God it’s Me Margaret? to me, she kissed boo-boos and told me she loved me every night. She was my mom too. Everyday after school Linny would help me with my homework and quiz me for upcoming tests. We were inseparable, best friends, mother and child. 

I am writing this because at Linny’s funeral there was no mention of my life with her. It was an intentional disregard for the beautiful life the three of us had. Linny would have wanted the world to know that she loved not only another woman to her fullest capacity, but that she had a daughter. She was a lover of nature, animals and peace. She nursed injured birds back to health and rescued abused dogs from animal shelters. What was said about Linny at her funeral was not about my mom. The story told at Linny’s funeral was a story of a woman I did not know. There was actual mention of Linny’s “husband,” with whom she’d divorced more than two decades ago! It was a façade her family spoke of out of fear of letting who Linny really was to come alive.

You see, while Linny was sick I was not allowed to visit her in the treatment facility. But that didn’t’ stop me from sneaking in to see her. When she turned to look at me she said, “It’s Maygen- my daughter.” I’ll never forget those words, that smile, and that last kiss I gave her. Read more.