Love is Hate
Love Is Hate: this story was written a couple years ago and a lot has changed. I’m not going to change a word, not even the errors.
I was raised by gay parents who always told me love makes a family and love is all there is and the only thing that makes them gay is love. Well that was a lie cuz I learnt that gay is a sex orientation. They might love each other they might not but the one thing that gays do is they have gay sex. I came home early when I was little saw them and I ran away and got sick in the yard behind the bushes.
My Moms always made a big deal about the kind of people who are bigits who dont accept them. Those people are against love so I knew all about that. They always said that part of the family we never see is because they are haters who hate us because they hate love. This was always so hard for me. No cousins or Granparents when everyone else had them except me. I fantisized of meeting them but my Moms said contact was impossible. I knew the kind of things that happend in the world. I was glad they protected me. Little did I know it was all a lie.
My Moms always made a good image. Smile everybody and pertend to be happy that was our family motto. But I didnt feel happy every time I came home from a friends house and saw how diffrent it was in their homes. My best friends dad was the greatest guy he was funny and nice and always taking us places. He listened to us. I was jealous of my friend and wrote the word Daddy on a peice of paper and put it under my pillow. I wanted a Daddy like my friend had. My friends family all knew how much I liked their Dad cuz I was always asking if I could help him. One day my friends mom asks me are you a Daddys Girl? It means you are the kind of girl who realy loves her Daddy and is real close to him. Well I went home and cried becuz I dont have that and never will know what thats like.
Now here is the biggest point of my whole life and I still cant believe it happend. Best random ever. I met my own cousin. Its a long story how that happened but we were both in the same camp. I was so freak out cuz I thought his family hated me. Well my eyes were open up and I knew. I was lied to. My cousin was the best. I met my Aunt my Uncle my other cousins too. My Moms but they were away on their trip so they never saw them. After they knew about me they drove there every single night. Family can come after dinner for camp fire and every night we spend time together.Then came the epic moment I met my very own Granparents. Wow I just cried and hugged them and they cried and hugged me and guess what they were not haters. They were so awesome I felt something I never felt before Just the kind of family I always dreamd of. They wanted to know me all these years just like I wanted to know them. The last day of camp was the last time I saw them and I never wanted to let them go. After I got home I dream they would come for me but they never did. Never call me or write me.
I hate my secret family for abandon me. I am so frikkin mad at my Moms for lying. I hate them for what they did. But I love them too cuz they are the only Moms I have the only family I known. Now I dont know what to believe and I think contantly about my secret family why they dont write or call? I think what my Moms said about them but I remember how much I loved being with them and one thing I know is I know they are not haters. But they should not of just let me go like that. So now I am the hater who hates everyone.
The above story was posted on The Experience Project and I was asked to share my story here, and I shared it with all of it’s drama and emotion. A few years later I have a different perspective. Someone asked me what if… two Moms co-raised me with two gay masculine acting dads who’d live next door? One would be biological, the other would basically adopt me as if you were his own.
Its a beautiful idea and I wish the best for anyone who loves their children so much that they would be willing to do this. Whoever thought of that has a lot of love in there heart and they were clearly thinking of how it would be for the kids. I wish someone had thought of me with so unselfishly.
I have forgiven my Moms for lying. I suppose they were trying to protect me in their own way but really I was cut off from a lot of people who just wanted to love me. I have learnd we don’t have to approve of eachothers sexualty to form communities in the world. I spent a year working on green co-op farms and it didn’t matter.
I am still drawn to older men, fatherly types. Still searching for the Daddy I will never know. You cannot just donated your sperm and walk away because there is so much more to you than a biologcal contribution. When you walked away you denied me the chance of ever knowing you and loving you, and you denied yourself the chance to know and love your child.
If you donated sperm about 18-20 years ago to two gay women, I could be your daughter. The movie Delivery Man with Vince Vaugh is about a man who meets his sperm donor children as adults. I cried and cried and cried. It was sort of a healing but it also brought the pain up to the surface again.
I know he is out there, I can feel the pull. What am I supposed to do with that?