Confessions of a gay mom

I realized later when I was looking at the It’sNewOrleans website that they were looking for a gay mom or dad to fill out the guest list for their podcast on gay in New Orleans. Perhaps the best thing about being labelled gay is that it has really no bounds as to what it means – sexuality – please that is a small part of it. For me it means I’m fluid, or not defined. More particularly, Wikipedia defines gay as: the termĀ gay was originally used to refer to feelings of being “carefree”, “happy”, or “bright and showy”; it had also come to acquire some connotations of “immorality” as early as 1637.

When I think of being a gay mom and raising a son in New Orleans, I think that for me it means that my life which was wont to bleed outside the numbers of the paint by drawing handed to me finally found an expression of not defined by being defined.

More importantly, don’t you think a lot of people are gay – these are the people I gravitate towards – the happy ones, the ones who are seeking to share their happiness with you, the ones who are not trying to profit from being that way. Take back the word gay – it defines so many of us who color outside the lines.

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