June 2000

Ross, 17, is a high school junior in Woodland, California.

Hi everyone, my name is Ross and I am writing my first Oasis article. I guess I can tell you all about myself before I get into my story. I am 17 years old and I live in Woodland California. I have been living here now for two years. I lived in Alabama for about 2 years as well, and originally lived here in California. I am blonde and blue and always in search of that perfect guy to be in love with. Maybe some day. My life has been full of ups and downs and turn arounds, but I don't think anything has been more difficult to handle than my parents. I have four of them, two are step, my parents are divorced. I don't have a problem with them being divorced but I did have a problem with my mom's choice of a partner.

It was the summer of 1995 and I was twelve years old. My mom and my brother and I lived in a little apartment with my mom's room mate Jennifer. Jennifer was always a suspicious character to me. I could never understand why she was telling me what to do and how to do it while my mom was at work or sleeping on the couch. I just couldn't understand. I had always considered them just roommates and nothing else ever crossed my mind. Until on day in late summer. I was snooping through Jennifer and mom's room, (they slept together) and I came across a book. The title of the book read, "Lesbian Parenting" which immediately brought me face to face with reality, as well as denial. I looked at the book and showed it to my brother. We both came to the decision that we should confront our mother and find out what the hell was going on. So we did.

The next several months must have been an eternity to my mom and her partner. We tortured them, and yelled, and screamed, and kicked, and did our best to tear them apart. But it didn't work. We were made to go to psychologists with them and talk out our problems, which we refused to do. And we were neglected, or so it seemed. Our parents were lesbians, and my brother and I would not have it. So we moved.

I convinced my brother, who is two years older than me, to move to Alabama to live with my dad. I thought that I would be helping myself If I could just escape the influence. You see, I knew I was gay, and I was denying it in the best way I could, I was running from everything. Even my mom. My mommy. I was leaving the person who loved me the most because I thought it would help me be straight. The reservations were made, the bags were packed, the tears were shed, and the plane took off. I wouldn't see my mom for two years. And the last time I saw her tears were streaming down her face. I knew what I was doing, and I didn't know why. I just wanted to run.

The next two years were hell, a bitter time, and a damaging life. I was living with my super-conservative, ultra Christian, and gay bashing dad. And I hated it. I wrote letters never to be sent that explained my problems without defining them. I told my dad I wanted to leave by writing letters to friends and leaving them out. None of them proclaimed my sexuality, but all of them proclaimed my distress. I was made to work every day, and some nights. My dad is a farmer, and he owned too many trees and cows, and plants. I wasn't raised a farmer, and I wasn't raised narrow minded. But I became all of that. Forcing myself to believe it was the best thing to do. Until I couldn't handle it anymore.

I wrote a letter to my dad, but it was addressed to my best friend. It said how much I hated living with him and how much I wanted to leave. I said that I couldn't believe I had moved there. I wanted out. Once my dad found the letter, he came to me, with the preacher, his wife, and all of my family. They were informed of my wishes, and they duly ostracized me. They all know about my mom. They all knew I was goin' in the wrong direction. Wasn' followin' the lord's plan. They let me know that what I was doing was wrong, and they almost made me believe it.

The move back to California was distressing, but over time I finally came out to myself and stopped harassing my moms. I know their lives are much better, and mine has become great. I have a close relationship with my real mom. And get along with Jennifer. They all support my lifestyle, as I do theirs.

Now, the question I have for everyone is, Why do you think I was so rebellious about having Lesbian parents? I am not truly sure that my theory of running is correct. But I want to know if I am the only gay kid out there who has Lesbian or gay parents. It is amazing to me that I could hate Lesbians so much while I knew I was gay. It makes me wonder how many enemies we are making when children of same sex parents don't end up gay.

Now if I continue I will end up on another subject, but for right now I'll have to end it. If you have any opinions please e-mail me. Tell me if you want me to keep writing for you. So for now I'm chillin, everybody have a great summer, at least the beginning of it. Bye boys and girls,



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