KarMel Scholarship 2006

 

Best from Family/Friend of Gay Person

“Be Not Afraid”

By  Carla Rilling - NC

 

 

Description of Submission: ”Personal story about me and my mom” - Carla

 

 

Why Karen and Melody Liked It:  We thought it was very touching to show your mother's struggle in dealing
with her sexuality at at time when it was difficult to be gay/lesbian.

 

 

“Are you gay?” my mom asked.  I paused for a moment to ponder my answer.  “Yes”, I said as confidently as I could muster, but quite uncertain about the response that would follow.  That’s the short version of my coming-out.  I was in my early 20’s and recently had moved into my parent’s house so I could afford to go to college.  I guess the love letters from my girlfriend raised the rainbow flag of suspicion for my mom.  The rest of my family didn’t have a clue, and despite my mom’s request, I was not ready for a coming-out confrontation with my dad or siblings.  I was still in the initial stages of coming-out to myself.  So the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy was well ingrained long before President Clinton coined the phrase.

 

Mom and I sat down to talk, woman-to-woman.  Being the private and introverted person that I am, Mom only received a rough outline for my life.  I had reached the point in my development where I felt that my mom was a wise woman, and maybe I should listen to her advice.  Mom told me, “the fewer people that know you are gay, the better off you’ll be”.  I asked myself, do I really believe this, or is it coming from our religious beliefs?  Then the shocker rolled across her tongue and out of her mouth, “Carla, I’m gay too”.  What did she just say?  Am I hearing things?  No, I do believe my mom just told me se is gay.  But how can that be?  Granted, my parents didn’t marry until their late thirties, but they’ve been married all of my life.  I think I need to sit down.  Oh, I am sitting.

 

Mom proceeded to tell me the highlights of her story.  She was born during the Great Depression, the sixth of seven children.  She was always the tomboy.  I’ve seen pictures and heard stories of my mom racing cars on the dirt speedways of Virginia, flying planes, and other assorted “un-lady-like” adventures.  Serving in the Women’s Army Corps during the fifties, my mom, Liz, met and fell in love with Peggy.  They were together seven years before the relationship ended.  Through the years, they did stay in touch with letters, photos, and telephone calls.  We would visit Peggy and her family almost every summer.  Peggy’s kids were the same age as I and my siblings.  I grew up knowing this woman as my mom’s best friend.  Still self absorbed with my own life, and not wanting to pry, my mom and I didn’t talk much more about her past life.

 

My mother’s words were stuck in my head, “The fewer people that know you are gay, and the better off you’ll be”.  Maybe Mom is right.  Believing that she knew what was best for me, I married a man that I met in one of my college classes.  We’d only known each other a few months.  I told him prior to the marriage that I was bisexual.  “Not a problem”, he said.  I told myself that I could control my love and desire for women.  My farce with myself and the world continued until the sudden and unexpected death of my mom a few years later.

 

My world was turned upside down.  My Mom’s death was cause for me to look at my own mortality and the impermanence of life.  Is this how I really want to live my life?  Do I want to live a life full of lies and deceit?  I was at a crossroads with myself, and only I could choose the path I would follow.  For the first time in my life, I felt free.  Free from what others would think of me.  Free of my own mental bondage.  Free to be the person I was created to be.  I wanted to be the genuine me, not just the shell of a person.

 

Soon after I made the decision to live as the genuine me, I met the love of my life.  Whynn, a beautiful and articulate woman was introduced to me at a local social gathering.  The attraction was instant.  Even though I had been planning to end my marriage in a few months, I was still married.  However, fate had a different course in mind for me.  Instead of tip-toeing out of the closet, I took a running leap.  I had a gut feeling that leaving my marriage would not be an easy task.  I could not bear the thought of subjecting Wynn to the misery that would follow.  She refused to leave my side, and supported me through all of it.  Soon we will celebrate twelve joyous years together, and look forward to many more.

 

Shortly after we met, Wynn and I discovered that we would be traveling in the vicinity of where Peggy lives.  I was on a quest to find out more about my mom’s life, and I knew Peggy would have the answers.  I contacted Peggy to tell her the vents that had transpired in my life and to see if she could fill in the gaps about my mom’s lesbian life.  Peggy was wonderful!  She had prepared a scrapbook full of pictures of her and my mom.  Peggy’s stories revealed a wonderful love story that took them from the East Coast, to Los Angeles, and then to the Midwest, where they started their own business.  Unfortunately, Peggy has endured bipolar disorder since the fifties.  Peggy revealed the sad events that brought the relationship to an end.  When Peggy’s parents uncovered the nature of the relationship, Peggy was immediately placed in a mental institution and given multiple rounds of shock treatments.  IN addition, Peggy was convinced by her parents and the pscyhiatrist that she should get married, have children and forget bout her past.  Liz tried to visit Peggy, but was refused contact by Peggy’s parents.  Liz was all alone.  I can’t imagine the heartbreak she must have endured.  I have so many questions for Peggy.  Sadly, the medications and shock treatments Peggy received have erased large chunks of her memory.  Peggy shared with me as much as she could remember.

 

There are still many unanswered questions I have about my mom’s life.   Many times I have reflected on her statement, the fewer people that know you’re gay, the better off you’ll be”.  I now know the context from whence this came from.  For my mom, it was a time of secrecy and hiding to protect all that was near and dear to her.  Being different from the norm was not appreciated or accepted.  I am fortunate to live in a time where diversity is appreciated and encouraged.  But let us not forget the lessons of the past.  We still live in a world where narrow-minded people exist.  Some of these people are our neighbors, co-workers, politicians, and family members.  However, let us not be afraid to live our lives out loud and proud.

 

 

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