My Daughter Is a Lesbian My Daughter Is a Lesbian
by Kathleen Bremner
as told to Candace Walters
When she “came out,” my dreams for my only child were shattered.At first, I began condemning myself. Where had I gone wrong? Like amother who bandages a child’s scrapes, I wanted to “fix” Susan.
When my daughter, Susan, invited me to lunch around Valentine’sDay, 1985, I looked forward to chatting with her about her new job asa political consultant. Although we’d had our ups and downs in our 40years as mother and daughter, at that time, we were particularlyclose. Susan was quite late to the restaurant. When she finallyarrived, I could tell something was wrong. Without much small talk,Susan abruptly announced, “Mom, there’s something I’ve been meaningto tell you: I’m a lesbian.” Her announcement absolutely stunned me.It is only in retrospect that I could see some warning signs, butthen my daughter’s declaration was a complete surprise.
I straightened my plate and silverware, avoiding eye contact withSusan. Then I picked up the menu and read it over and over, as if Ihadn’t heard what she had said.
“Mom, did you hear me?” Susan interrupted my trance.
“Yes, Susan, but you must be wrong,” I stammered. “You can’t be alesbian…you’ve been married…besides, you’re a Christian, and theBible says it’s a sin…”
“Maybe your version of the Bible says that, but not mine,” sheflatly stated. “Mom, you don’t understand. It’s like some people areborn with blue eyes an some people are born with brown eyes.”
Susan was defiant about her feelings, and I couldn’t thinkclearly. Further conversation was impossible, so we left therestaurant without eating.
I tried to remember how to drive and where I lived as I found myway home in shock. I wondered how to break the news to Susan’sstepfather, my husband of 16 years. Before I could get the chance, hecalled for me to come quickly and see what was on the television.There was Susan on the news, being crowned “Miss Gay San Diego” anddemonstrating in a gay pride parade. We couldn’t believe what we wereseeing; surely there was some explanation or it was all a bad joke.
For weeks following my daughter’s “coming out,” I couldn’t eat orsleep. I cried constantly. Hearing Susan had died would have beeneasier to bear. It seemed all the dreams I had for my only child hadbeen shattered. A thousand questions ran continuously through my mindall beginning with the word “why?” I didn’t think I could continue tolive, knowing my daughter was gay.
Our family was well-known in the Christian community. It wasn’tunusual to have my name in the paper as president of a Christianwomen’s auxiliary, or for my involvement in evangelistic crusades.Susan was also active in a large church as a musician and children’sworker; only God knows if her profession of faith was genuine. Sowhen our local newspaper covered Susan’s involvement in the gaycommunity, we received numerous phone calls from friends andacquaintances asking about her. Some callers were sympathetic, butmost were accusatory asking why I hadn’t known my daughter was gay,or how she could call herself a Christian, or what had we done tocause her homosexuality. Other close friends wereuncharacteristically silent. I couldn’t talk to anybody. I wasconfused, embarrassed, and devastated.
At first, I began condemning myself. Where had I gone wrong? Likea mother who bandages a child’s scrapes, I wanted to “fix” Susan, topull her onto my lap as I did when she was little, and correct anymistakes I might have made in raising her. I prayed, “Lord, just giveme another chance.”
I had always loved having a baby girl, dressing Susan in pink,frilly outfits trimmed in ribbons and lace. Susan’s father died whenshe was quite young, and she was raised by my second husband-aprominent physician and chief of staff at a Los Angeles suburbanhospital-until her teens. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a poorchoice for a husband and father. He was unfaithful and abusive to me.Many years after my divorce, Susan told me he had sexually molestedher from ages 5 to 13. I had no idea this had happened to her andfelt terribly guilty.
During adolescence, Susan was the typical “Californiagirl”-blonde, tall, and slender. She was an excellent tennis player,a concert violinist, and an honor student. She was offered a fullmusic scholarship to a southern California college upon completion ofhigh school, but instead, chose to marry a boy she met on the tenniscourts. Unfortunately, her husband was killed in an automobileaccident during their second year of marriage, which was rocky fromthe start because they were so young.
Following her husband’s death, Susan started college. It wasthere, I believe, she began a lesbian relationship with a fellowclassmate. Once I found a note from one of Susan’s girlfriends thatseemed overly affectionate, but in those days, I didn’t make theconnection.
I didn’t understand much about homosexuality eight years ago, itjust was never a part of my world. Of course I knew all the Bibleverses condemning it. But beyond that I was like most otherChristians- repulsed by the problem. But now I had to confront it. SoI began reading literature on homosexuality and talking to others tolearn why it happens and how to help families with loved ones caughtin its trap.
One day, when I was at my lowest, and the pain seemed unbearable,God sent an angel into my life. I met with Barbara Johnson, author ofWhere Does a Mother Go to Resign? (Bethany House). Barbara foundedSpatula Ministries after she discovered her own son was gay andwaited eleven years for him to turn his life around. Barbaracounseled me for hours. She explained that homosexuality is acondition with such deep and diverse causes that no mother shouldhold herself responsible for “making another person gay.” God knows Imade plenty of mistakes in parenting-and I’m sure, as with manylesbians, Susan’s sexual abuse was a contributing factor. Buthomosexual behavior is first and foremost an individual’s choice.
Barbara stressed how important it was to be in a support groupwith other parents and loved ones of homosexuals. I couldn’t findsuch a group, so I started a branch of Spatula Ministries in SanDiego that has met every Tuesday night for the past eight years. Intalking with hundreds of other hurting moms and dads, we have beenmutually helped and encouraged by the belief that Jesus Christ candefuse any darkness in our children’s lives. I also co-organized anannual conference that features nationally-known experts who helpthose struggling with homosexuality and teach others how to ministerto homosexuals and persons with AIDS.
In the years since Susan told me she was a lesbian, she has beenquite active in the gay community. At one time she was the publisherof a gay newspaper (but she claims I prayed that business intobankruptcy). Now Susan travels the country lobbying for homosexualrights on behalf of an influential gay political caucus. She and hercompanion own a home on the East Coast.
We talk by phone nearly every week, and Susan sends me cards withlovely floral designs she says remind her of me. She knows about mysupport group and conferences, and has even attended one of theworkshops. It doesn’t help to give Susan Christian tapes or booksabout homosexual; she knows what the Bible says and how I feel abouther sexual orientation. She interprets the Bible differently, so weget nowhere discussing it. Sometimes, I still lovingly confront her,but she understands my love and approval are two separate things.
When Susan visits me, we sample a favorite seafood restaurant atthe beach or a Mexican one in Old Town San Diego. I just want to bewith Susan as a mother, not as an adversary. I feel it’s vital tograsp the moment-I may not have another chance to love her. I’ve seentoo many parents lose that chance forever by cutting off all contactwith their gay son or daughter.
I know that God is bigger than homosexuality. All I can do is giveSusan to God. I cannot change her, only God can. I love her as only amother can, but God loves her more. Susan has chosen this path, and Imust allow her to accept responsibility for her own actions. My roleis to be Susan’s intercessor, on my knees praying for her andtrusting God for the outcome.
Kathleen Bremner is the director of Spatula II Ministries inSan Diego. Copyright © 1994 by Candace Walters. Distributed byLove In Action, P.O. Box 753307, Memphis, TN 38175-3307