Motherhood, Identity, and Being a Lesbian

(Or should that be “Lesbianism, Identity, and Being a Mother”?) There’s a great dialogue about identity going on right now on two other lesbian moms’ blogs. Both Renee and Kwynne offer different perspectives on how being a mother can raise questions about and change one’s sense of self.

How true. Losing my own identity–as a person, not as a lesbian–was one of my greatest fears about having a child. My parents never socialized much or did non-work activities outside the home when I was growing up, either individually or as a couple, and I think that fueled my concerns. I know my folks were simply trying to focus on their kids, but setting a more well-rounded example might have been better. (Guess I turned out all right regardless, though.) Ultimately, I realize that a pure “mom” identity is just an illusion. One of the best things we can do for our kids, I believe, is show them who we are as full people–our interests, activities, and viewpoints will motivate their own, even if simply to help them realize what they don’t want to do. This is tough, of course, especially in the early, most-dependent years, when many of our own hobbies get backburnered and free time is a precious luxury. Still, there are ways to make it work, by making arrangements with one’s partner to each get a night off, for example, or to promise each other that you’ll find a babysitter for a night out at least once a quarter.

Renee and Kwynne also each note that being a mom can make one invisible to other lesbians’ gaydar, whether you’re butch, femme, or somewhere in between. Even within the LGBT community, it’s sometimes hard to remember that we have young ‘uns, too. As Kwynne points out, decorating the stroller with rainbows isn’t always the answer. I’m not sure there is an answer, except for all of us to try extra hard not to make assumptions about anyone we meet. Or just for kicks, assume every unknown mom you see who doesn’t have a husband in tow is a lesbian. Give her a knowing smile. If she’s straight, she’ll just think you’re smiling at her cute child. If she’s not, she’ll be grateful for the recognition.

This has me thinking, too, that another issue of invisibility arises when a child looks much more like one mom. My son is the spitting image of me, with curly red hair. My brown-haired partner gets funny looks sometimes when she’s out with him. When we’re out together, very often people assume our child is all mine. My partner becomes the “invisible” mom. (I’m sure this happens even more with families of mixed racial heritages.) I really hate that.

Are we as lesbians better able than straight women to handle our shifting identities as we transition to motherhood, because most of us have been through at least one period of identity scrutiny (and perhaps change) in the past, as we’ve come out? Or are we tired of all this pondering on identity and find it harder to deal with still more identity issues as mothers? I’d like to think it’s the former, but also suspect it’s as much an individual matter as anything else. My personal anchor is the knowledge that my son looks to me as a guide. If I don’t have a strong sense of self, who will be there to set an example for my son to develop his?

This has been a more philosophical post than most. Thanks to Kwynne and Renee (neither of whom I actually know) for raising some good issues.

Scroll to Top