“Wiktor is gay! and If you don’t want him, you won’t have me, either!” – I shouted at my husband as soon as he opened the door coming back from work on the day our older son, Wiktor, came out.
My husband, man of few words, didn’t say anything.
That’s good – I thought, there’s hope he accepts it, just like I did, instantly, without second thoughts, without a shadow of a doubt. Only with remorse that I hadn’t supported him, that he had had to shoulder this burden all alone, surrounded with homophobia. How could I let this happen? Forgive me, my darling son.
However, the real test of acceptance was to take place when Wiktor first introduced us to his partner Wania. The meeting between him and my husband had been nice, though slightly official, but what would happen now we were to say goodbye in public, at a bus station…?
I kissed them both with affection (luckily they like it).
Then it was my husband’s turn and…?
I move aside, I trembled and observed.
Then my husband hugged THEM BOTH IN THE SAME WAY – fondly, like a man, slightly stiffly, but heartily and now I know that nothing, nothing has changed!
That we love our gay son very much, like never before, like a beloved one.
And we love each other, too!
Joanna, mother of gay man
A few years have passed and today there is a grandson in our extended family. I’m his “fourth grandmother” – babcia, babuszka, oma. Now I only have to wait for the rest of the family to get used to this thought, so that I can cuddle my grandson.
So I’m waiting and I’m ready!