Families come in all shapes and sizes. The most important thing is the love we have for one another. I’ve been saying this to my 3½-year-old son, August, ever since he started noticing that our family looks a little different from the ones he sees in books and on TV.
I’ve been raising August as a single mom since he was born when I was just 19. His biological father has never been a stable or safe presence in his life, and now legally, he isn’t allowed contact. It’s for the best, but it’s been hard for a young child to understand. On top of that, last year I realized I feel most comfortable identifying as a lesbian.
Accepting that about myself was hard for many reasons. Part of me thought I couldn’t be gay because I’d already had a child and been with a man. I also worried about what it would mean for my son. He already had enough challenges, and I felt guilty thinking I might add another. But I’ve learned that having a happy, authentic parent is better than trying to fit into society’s expectations.
Growing up, I was raised in a mostly liberal but still very Christian, heteronormative household. Being gay was seen as abnormal, and the ideal was always marriage, kids, and the traditional American dream. I knew from a young age that I liked girls, but I tried to push it aside, thinking maybe I was bisexual or could still end up with a man. Society and family had trained me to seek male approval and value appearance over authenticity. That left me uncomfortable in my own skin for years.
At 18, I entered my first and only relationship with a man, which quickly became abusive. He manipulated me, threatened me, and trapped me in a cycle of fear and control. I became pregnant at 18 while using birth control, but I stayed in the relationship at times because of pressure to fit the perfect family ideal.
When August was six weeks old, I left. I moved in with my grandparents, and over the next two and a half years, I worked hard to build a safe, stable life. I earned my GED, went to trade school, became a certified medical assistant, saved money, and got a place of my own, all while raising August as a single mom.
During quarantine, I spent a lot of time reflecting on my life and who I truly am. I realized I wasn’t genuinely attracted to men and that my past feelings were tied to societal expectations, not my heart. Once I embraced my identity as a lesbian, I felt a weight lift. I finally felt comfortable in my body and in my life, and I started sharing my truth with friends and family. To my relief, everyone was supportive, and their love never wavered.
Now, at 23, August is almost four, and these past years have been the happiest of my life. I love being a single mom, sharing every moment with him, and making decisions for our little family without unnecessary drama.
Thinking about the future, I wanted August to have a sibling close in age, so I decided to become a solo parent again through a sperm donor. I am now 12 weeks pregnant with our second child, and August is thrilled to be a big brother. Our family is excited, supportive, and ready to welcome another little one.
I feel so blessed to be living authentically, raising my children in a loving, inclusive home, and showing them that families come in all shapes and sizes. Being a single lesbian mom to two kids might not look traditional, but it is perfect for us. I hope August and his sibling grow up with empathy, pride, and a clear understanding that love is what truly makes a family.
