A straight World - A cultural shift in my life

After spending many years (as this blog testifies) of my life primarily hanging out in lesbian circles, the birth of LJ has changed all that and i've all of a sudden found myself in a totally straight world.

Since coming out around 20 years ago my social life has been focused around and in LGBT culture from hanging out on The Scene with mates to being part of LGBT groups and committees and even working for an LGBT charity. But becoming a parent means i've started spending more time with other mums and it turns out all of them are straight and I've found myself the only lesbian amongst them. At anti-natal classes GGF and I were the only expectant same-sex couple, at the local 'new Mum and Baby' group I am the only lesbian, and LJ and I see plenty of other mums (and a few dads) and their babies all of similar age regularly at the weekly baby classes we attend and I'm the only queer mamma; LJ the only baby with same-sex parents. It doesn't bother me, it doesn't seem to bother anyone else, it's not stopped us making new friends, but it's a cultural shift in my life. 

A lot of our friends, like many lesbian couples have been forced to leave Brighton & Hove finding it unaffordable for their expanding needs and moved further west to Portslade or Worthing or moved out of the region altogether. Women are still fighting for equality in the workplace with wages and promotion, women's products are still priced higher than their male equivalents and even female baby clothes cost more than those for boy babies. When you are a two-women family you generally have less income so it compounds the affordability of living here. Me and GGF are fortunate we can, maybe that's why, even though we live in the "gay capital", we find ourselves the only gay parents here?

You are assumed to be in a heterosexual relationship unless you say otherwise and LJ is assumed to have a daddy. It means constantly coming out. I mostly refer to GGF as partner at baby groups because coming out to everyone all of the time can get exhausting and boring.

Not every child will have a mum and dad and not every child will be raised by a mum and dad or be genetically related to those raising them, yet this pervasive assumption is there. It would be better if there was more wider acknowledgement of the diversity of families, not with just same-sex families. It will be something that LJ equally will have to contend with and correct people on as he gets older. Knowing his family is different and he doesn't have a daddy will be something he will realise very quickly.

It's easier when GGF and I are together as a family as it's more obvious than when it's just me and LJ. We often then do not have to explain anything or 'come out', we do not have to explain our family, we are just a family unit.

Our experience in this moment, has more in common with the straight couples who have babies of similar age than other gay people because our shift of focus has moved to LJ rather than our social life. Equally they are going through some of the same challenges in raising a baby. In some ways their experiences are different and in many ways they are the same.


*Both Rainbow Families and the Donor Conception Network provide a regular meet-up in the city for same-sex parents. 

Mum, Mummy, Mama, Mami, Mumie, Mutti

What to call yourselves when you're two mums, mothers, mummys, mammas... is a minefield, and additionally so if you are looking for non-gender binary terms or as the non-birth parent, you may not identify with the connotation of mum.

You'd think with freedom from stereotypical gendered parent roles and so many potential options, it would be easy and straightforward to pick which you'd like to use. And so initially it appeared to us.  Before LJ was born we discussed whether it was better to let LJ decide for himself or for us to self-label which LJ would either feel happy to continue to use indefinitely or will evolve as he sees fit. However, GGF was keen to be (German) Mami (pronounced Mummy) which she had used as a child, and family and friends kept asking us too, so we opted to self-label.

I only remember having always called my own mother, Mum. However I felt uncomfortable using this as it feels so formal whilst LJ is so young. I wanted something softer and more endearing, so opted for Mama, however ideally I'd prefer an adapted version like Dadam, instead of Dad (I'm soooo disappointed that Mumam does not work!)

Following LJ's birth in the first few weeks we stuck to Mami for GGF and Mama for me, but as quickly as those first weeks have turned into months, we both find ourselves and others mixing it up and using Mum, Mummy and Mama interchangeably and randomly between us.

As the birth parent, Mummy feels more natural to me, whilst Mama feels not, may be because it's less familiar to me and often at baby classes I attend, the songs often refer to Mummy. Thus leaving us back with the dilemma of what and if to self-label or continue as we are and just let LJ choose for himself when he's able too? He will likely outgrow Mummy once older too.

For now, we continue to mix it up, interchanging without correction whilst sticking to what we agreed with Mami/Mamma when asked formally and when we remember to do so with LJ. I've added an extra "m" as this psychologically seems to help?! I can't wait to see if LJ continues to use these or changes them to something he prefers.

For those looking for possible examples, in English common names are: Mum, Mummy, Mamma, Mammy, Ma. In German, Mami, Mumie, Mutti are most common.

However if you are looking for something outside of the common names, you could pick from the following that other same-sex mums are using: Mo, Maddy, Momo, Ima (Hebrew), Mumsy, Opie (O.P. aka Other Parent), Oma (Other Mamma), Maman, Baba. 

What has been your experience? What did you choose? Or what would you choose? 

Transient in Brighton

The joke goes that when you visit Brighton for a weekend, you'll be unlikely to leave again. A weekend turns into a week, which turns into a month and before you know it, you've rented a place to live. Which is why when you ask almost anyone how long they've lived in Brighton, most responses will range from "only a month" to two or three years. If you've lived here 16 years as I have, you get weird looks like you've actually overstayed your welcome! 

It's an easy place to make friends if you're sociable enough, a place to relax in where you are easily accepted for who you are, a place where you can discover yourself without anyone judging. It's a place where you are encouraged to be out rather than in and it's easy to get caught up in a never-ending invite to events and activities to suit whatever your preferences and taste. So it's not hard to figure out why people get caught up in the "Brighton bubble", stay and call this home; at least for a short while. 

Brighton though is a transient city. People come here to have fun. They come to study hard and party hard at one of the two universities, they come to enjoy their summer by the sea picking up casual work in the busy and social cafes and bars, they come to teach in one of the hundreds of language schools, or take time to zen out with plenty of shared company at the holistic centres dotted across the city. 

But that transient population go again. Because they've burnt out and realise that book they wanted to write hasn't been started yet, because they've spent all their savings and need to head back to the safety of Mum & Dad before they accrue more debt, because they realise they cannot afford to buy if they want to settle down, so they move out to the cheaper areas of Portslade or Worthing, or they get dogs and decide to move to the countryside or they decide to head to the bright lights of London to start their career or be part of a bigger scene; Brighton can feel claustrophobic if you stay too long. 

Living in a transient city means that friends and your friendship groups are very transient too as people move away with a frequency I believe to be unique to this city. Lesbian groups especially, assisted by relationship break ups and marriages can literally obliterate them to fragments. The former because no-one can hang out together anymore as loyal sides are taken and the latter because they simply don't go out anymore!

To last the course here, just like the tide, you have to move with the ebb and flow of changes and willing to adjust, you have to say no to a few invites every now and again in order to persue your ambitions and dreams and if you want to buy here, definitely don't get a dog, or a baby! 

Commuting whilst pregnant

I've happily commuted from Hove to London since I started working there three years ago. Whilst many in Brighton view it as something abhorrent to be undertaken only if completely necessary, it's never felt that way to me. That was until I got pregnant.  In all I managed (just about!) to commute for 37 consecutive weeks and I hated every one of those weeks. Here's why...

• Even if you are at the front of the crowd to get on the carriage as it pulls into the station, everyone will still push past you regardless of how big and heavy you are to grab a seat. Why? Because they know you will turf out the person in the priority seat so they are damn well not going to be considerate and spend their journey standing by being polite! 

• You proudly display your "Baby On Board" badge and could be the size of a whale. No one gives a shit on this line. If they give up their seat for you it means they are standing for an hour or more with the stations so far apart and so busy as you cross the Downs. You will have no choice but to take a priority seat from someone, or in my case I adjusted my start and finish time so I was not on the busiest trains in and out of London. 

• You've managed to get on and there's still a seat, but it's the one by the window. Damn! You think the person in the isle seat will move over to make room for you. Not a chance. They will get up and expect you to squeeze your mammoth body between the seat and the table. 

• Brighton buses don't fare any better. There was a lady in the isle priority seat with all her shopping placed next to her. The bus was busy.  I first had to ask her to remove her shopping off the seat. (Just to quickly point out I was now on maternity leave at 38 weeks!) Then instead of moving across or standing up to make room for me to sit down, she asked me to "squeeze past". After 37 weeks of tolerating train commuting I'd had enough of stupid selfish idiots, 

"Squeeze past! There's a full size baby in there, it doesn't squeeze you moron. Breathing-in isn't going to make any bloody difference you know!"

And she still didn't get up to let me get in.

• On the subject of squeezing, when the trains are rammed like cattle carts and you are forced to stand, and then someone on the platform yells, "can you move down please" and looks at you, but you can't move down because the aisle size seems to have copied the Vietnam guerrilla Cu Chi tunnels that it's physically impossible for you! "I'm too big, I don't fit" you yell back! At this point the person in the priority seat who pretended you didn't exist before and that they had not seen you, is glared at by everyone on the platform, so they are forced to relinquish their seat for you.  

• Even when you have managed to get into a seat further inside the carriage (often when a little smaller than the last two months!), if then becomes a challenge getting off as everyone stood in the aisle breathes in to make room for your bump like that's going to help! People are soooooo stupid! 

• Outside Victoria station there are traffic lights that people get frustrated waiting at. May be it's your awareness that you have a little person reliant on your care inside you, may be it's because your bones have begun to loosen from all the 'relaxin' being produced and you can only hobble slowly, but the last thing you are willing to do is dart in front of oncoming buses whilst the lights are green. So invariably, you will have people trying to push you across whilst you are trying to stay on your feet. I lost count at the number of people I wanted to throw in front of those buses! I'm frankly surprised I never did. 

• As well as the commute I found Victoria concourse awful whilst pregnant. Your own sense of protective space hugely increases, both so bump doesn't get knocked and you equally don't get knocked over. Yet despite all the floor signs saying 'Don't be a trolley wally' as well as your obvious pregnancy, it still does not stop people from running directly in front of you with their luggage or banging into you with a backwards 'sorry' thrown at you as they fly past. The number of people I wanted to hit on that concourse over my nine months could've trained me for an Olympic boxing match! 

In fact that was the constant during my commuting time whilst pregnant. I wanted to wallop a lot of people, every day!