- Oh mom, just take the damn vitamin C, Maggie said... If it doesn’t work, you’ll just piss it out.

Karen looked away from her daughter’s remark. We exchanged meaningful looks. She sighed. “It doesn’t come from me”.

I smiled, trying not to seem critical. “You have wonderful children”, I said, “and you didn’t do anything to produce that remark.”

Maggie walked away, pleased at having scored. Karen followed, dutifully.

Having children is more than just endless giving, more than sacrificing your happiness for theirs. It seems to be actually giving yourself away to an abusive lover, to whom you are bound till death do you part.

Being gay and childless, my observations on child rearing and parenthood are perhaps not so interesting to parents and children. What could I know? I haven’t been there. I can only imagine how having a child would change my life. And I can walk away from these gyrations at any moment, and do. I am not bound at the hip to a demanding and ungrateful person whom I have loved with a passion since the moment of their birth.

A dilettante psychologist? Maybe. A dilettante at life? Not at all. Those of us who must construct our lives on the outer rim of society have a very different, and equally arduous, task as those who follow the beaten path.

“Alternative families”. Legal rights for our partners and children. Immigration issues, inheritance issues, emotional issues, employment issues, property issues. All of these things that we fight for are commonplace for regular people who only have to repeat the more mundane challenges of their ancestors.

A homosexual is never fully trusted, even today, in many circles. The pink ceiling is real. Even if we create a lot of it ourselves.