Family: Part 1

So I have struggled this week for inspiration for the post.  Usually an event or circumstance occurs that prompts me in a certain direction.  This was not the case.  I ultimately decided that a huge part of anyone's story is their family.  Whether good or bad, present or non existent, close or disjointed, your family experience in a huge way defines who you are.  Though I would love to tell you all about my family and how things have ultimately worked out in this one post, I plan to do it over a series of posts. I hope you don't mind me taking some time to recognize these core people in my life and share a little more about how we all relate.  

I grew up with 3 brothers, yet often felt as an only child.  You see, my youngest brother, Steven, is 7 years older than me.  Let's just say the word "oops" probably came out of my parents mouth at some point.  I had the privilege of spending a lot of time with my mom, as I lived in a single parent household.  I always loved my mom, and for the most part we got along, even through those trying teenage years.  My mom worked as many as 4 jobs at a time to make sure I had everything I needed and wanted in life.  She is one of the most self-sacrificing people I have ever known.  I always felt comfortable around my mom.  I felt as if I could tell her anything, with exception to my sexual orientation.  I'm not sure what I thought her response would ever be.  To this day I'm not sure what it would have been had I come out when I was 18 or 20.

It was a Thursday morning.  I had just had the "coming out" conversation with my cousin and she simply asked if I had told my mom yet.  I told her that I hadn't.  I didn't have peace about it yet.  Throughout the coming out process, somehow, I just felt the right moments.  It was like a comfortable breeze that gently directed me to the right people at the right time.  I woke up that Thursday morning, and it was as if that breeze said, "It's family day."  I picked up my iPhone, pressed the button, and slowly spoke, "call mom at home."  (I do love Siri...)  The phone began to ring, and my heart began to beat faster.  My mom answered and I simply said, "hey."  After brief pleasantries, I finally told her that I needed to tell her something.  With tears in my eyes, not from fear but from the unknown, I began the well-rehearsed speech.  It was a somewhat long and drawn out speech, all to say two simple words; "I'm gay."  It interests me now to contrast my grand oratory with my mother's very simple response.  She simply said, "Lance, all I have ever wanted for you is to be happy."  With a deep sigh of relief, tears began to flow.  Not for any other reason than the realization of how much love this one woman carried in her heart for her children.  There was no judgement, no attempt at counseling, no "I'm disappointed but....", just a simple statement.  What greater statement to show care for someone than your overwhelming desire to simply see someone happy.

It is unfortunate, especially in the South, that my story is often not the story of others.  I have heard stories lately of parent's disapproval of their children's desire to love someone of the same sex. I'm not a parent so I can't speak from their perspective.  I am a human being that understands being worried about a parent's disapproval.  I had no idea how my mom would react, but I knew that I had to live my life.  I knew that ultimately my mom would honor a life of authenticity and that she would love me no matter what.  It is my hope that even as parent's struggle with their own disapproval or misunderstandings, that you can take on the grace and love of my mother and simply say, "All I want is you to be happy."  Thank you momma.