My name is Maeve Marsden and I was raised by lesbian mothers. After 33 years of quiet suffering, I am ready to come out about the trials of my upbringing.
I have been inspired to share my story by a courageous woman named Cheryl Parrott. A therapist at Rich Relationships Counselling in Sydney, Parrott made a submission to the Senate inquiry into the proposed draft marriage equality bill, which was recently made public. Her submission contained the revelatory claim that children from same-sex families are far more likely to have been abused as children.
This revelation has no basis in published research, but that hasn't stemmed my need to come out about the terrors of being raised by lesbians.
Nor has the Australian Counselling Association's statement that Parrott is not an accredited member of the organisation stymied my desire to confess all.
The fact that all known research consistently proves that children raised in same sex-families do as well or better on all measures is just a bunch of heresay; like Cheryl, I am no scientist, and I have no time for data.
My usual MO in instances such as these would be to submit a heartfelt piece of prose about my wonderful, normal childhood demonstrating that queer families are perfectly healthy places to grow up. But enough is enough. I have been silent too long about the struggles of my youth.
Of course, the traumas listed below are just my personal challenges. I can't generalise about the experiences of all queer families, because that would be ridiculous. WOULDN'T IT CHERYL?
1. Lesbian folk music
While other kids grew up on Farnsy and Barnesy, I was raised on the dulcet tones of Australian folk singer Judy Small and New Zealand comedy duo the Topp Twins. Their songs were about women's rights and the union movement, community leaders and loving your family. Sure, Judy had a song about riding the Manly Ferry and the Topp Twins have a killer country track about Dolly Parton, but this indoctrination of celebrating diversity and speaking up for the marginalised left a gaping hole in my Oz Rock knowledge.
When I went to the uni bar in O Week and the other students started belting out Khe Sanh, I stood in wonderment. What was this magical cultural phenomenon? I legit just had to google how to spell "Barnesy". The struggle is real.
2. Arts and craft related torture
Did YOU have to help paint signs for the Sydney Mardi Gras and Reclaim the Night? While other kids got TV and video games, we had paint and pom poms. I still remember those long days fashioning costumes for our Mardi Gras float and writing slogans on cardboard.
Of course, when we dared to question these educational, community-focused activities we had to suffer through our parents explaining the context and history of various political movements. We had to learn stuff. There was glitter. It was the worst.
3. The k.d. lang movie, Salmonberries
No teenager should have to watch this. It's boring.
4. Wholemeal pizza dough
I used to long for my friends' white-bread Vegemite sandwiches. While I am sure other lesbian mums made regular food, mine decided to honour the age-old stereotype and become vegetarians. When I was in year 6 their vegie burger stall outsold the sausage sizzle at Fireworks Night and their gloating was grotesque.
You haven't suffered until you've bitten into thick, wholemeal pizza dough that completely overwhelms the cheesy goodness, and woe is you if the centrepiece at Christmas is a nut roast. (Incidentally, I only found out in my early 30s that nut roast is essentially stuffing. Those sneaky, lying vegetarian lesbians serving wholesome home-cooked meals. How dare they.)
5. Running into your mums at a gay bar
As a fully fledged adult lesbian, I now suffer the greatest humiliation of all. My mums may be senior citizens, but they are still engaged with pop culture and the LGBTQI community. Due to growing up with such open communication, as adults we are actually friends. We talk about our lives, share interests, travel together and happily hang out as a family.
This all sounds lovely until you're out on the town with your friends, possibly making out with your girlfriend in the corner, and you run into A Mother. And she's dancing. And wearing a really similar outfit to aforementioned girlfriend. Oh god.
6. An open approach to gender roles and sexuality
According to people like Cheryl Parrott, children who don't grow up with a mother and father won't have the correct gender roles modelled to them. Having a mother and father would have taught us that heterosexuality is the natural way of things. Children need dads to fix things and play sports, and mums to cook and clean.
My siblings and I have been raised to believe men and women can do whatever they want, and love whoever they want. We are surprised when people think men aren't able to express emotion; my brother communicates clearly and respectfully with women. I believe my career is as important as any man's and that I should be paid an equal wage. Which obviously sucks.
It's awful experiencing sexism and homophobia every day when you grew up being taught all people are equal. Maybe ignorance would have been bliss.
Maeve Marsden is a writer, director, producer and performer. She tweets from @maevemarsden
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