"Mom, why isn’t polyamory represented in the pride flag? Why is the rainbow all about the gender of the person you love and not about the kind of relationship you have?” My daughter, aged 10 at the time, asked this question after seeing a pride flag in our neighborhood. I was thrilled by her formulation of such a complex question about sexuality, gender and representation. Perhaps I wasn’t such a failure as a mom! Kids today…they know a lot more than we did back in the day. When I was 10, I never, ever heard these words: queer, bisexual, trans, non-binary, asexual, polyamory, ethical non-monogamy. I did hear a Yiddish slur for effeminate men: “faygele” (little bird), once in a while, but I didn’t know any lesbians or gays or queers. I mean, I’m sure I did, but nobody was out of the closet to me or my family then. I didn’t know what to call people who feared same-sex love - homophobic - but I remember arguing in 8th grade with my boyfriend on the playground where we’d hang out afterschool. He was always calling everyone “fag” and I called him out on it. It didn’t seem right to me, since he was such a loving person. Last time I attended the Pride Parade I remember seeing all those teenagers marching and chanting for sexual rights - it made me proud. Even in a highly religious and conservative city like mine, lots of kids here, including my own, know that they have choices, that they can love whomever and however their heart desires. They know people (and not just “of people”) - friends and family - represented by those rainbow flags. And, perhaps most importantly, they know that their mom loves them just as they are. They also know that mom loves differently than the majority of people: she’s non-monogamous, and damn proud of it. She moves through the world ethically, caring for her connections honestly and authentically, with courage to live the life that suits her. I meet people in my clinic, in workshops and in lectures, who wonder how to love outside society’s heteronormative box:
“I’m kinky, but she’s not. What should we do about it?”
“I feel like I’m probably poly, but my boyfriend is having a hard time with it. He grew up religious and this goes against everything in which he believes. You think we can make it work?”
“I think I’m straight, but I’m really curious what it would be like to kiss another man. Is this just a fantasy or should I act on it?
I feel so lucky to have the tools and theories to support people when they ask these questions, but they didn’t come to me early. I had to stumble upon them in my mid-forties, after spending a lot of years confused about my own needs and desires. This is why it fills me with joy to see these conscious kids, in my city and others, being the curious creatures they are and seeking support, community and love.
Comments