I cut contact with my mum before I could come out – she’s missing out on my best gay self
akt, a charity dedicated to supporting young homeless LGBTQ+ people.You can donate here Just as my estrangement means I’m missing a person in my life, my lack of coming out to my mum means I am missing out on a crucial queer moment.But because of our history, I can’t tell, can’t decide, who’s really missing out: me or mum?Truthfully, I miss having a mother sometimes, but not her. Someone to balance out the family photos; someone else to be on my side; someone to share parts of me that even my closest family don’t get; someone else to read tarot cards and horoscopes with.Really, coming out to my mum is another item in a long chronicle of milestones she’s missed out on, milestones that I’ve outsourced to other supportive loving women. My godmother came to my graduation; I celebrated my first printed article with my flatmate; I first came out to one of my closest friends.Whenever I’ve had life-affirming queer moments, there’s been someone there, so loving and present that my mum is hardly a spectre hanging over me.Telling my mum that I’m gay could’ve been the snowflake that started the avalanche, the open door that could’ve ushered us both into an adult relationship. Maybe if I’d had the chance to come out to her, we’d have been more honest and open with each other.