![](https://thefederalist.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/shutterstock_199989107-670x300.jpg)
Dear LGBT Community,
I am not your daughter. I never carried a flag in one of your gay pride parades. I have never written a letter on your behalf to a congressman or anyone else, and I have never felt the need to make people accept the fact I am the daughter of a lesbian. Perhaps it’s because she never felt the need to force people to accept her for being one.
No, I would never align myself to a community as intolerant and self-absorbed as the LGBT community, a community that demands tolerance with fervor and passion, yet does not give it in return, even to its own members at times. In fact, this community attacks anyone who does not agree with them, no matter how lovingly any difference of opinion is expressed.
I myself am a product of the Lesbian Revolution of the 1980s. My mother always knew she liked girls, but tried hard to be a good, straight, southern Baptist girl. When I was a year old, she left my dad for another man, whom we lived with until I was somewhere around four years old. After the divorce, she told my father to leave, which he did, and in his own words, “I did because I knew I couldn’t fight the entire family to see you.” I cannot remember the man she left him for very well, but I can remember being happy living with him. It did not last, however, and when she left him, she left him for a woman.
Silencing People about Homosexuality Won’t Change What Kids Can See
I knew from a young age that living with two women was not natural. I could especially see it in the homes of my friends who had a mom and a dad. I spent as much time with those friends as I possibly could. I yearned for the affection that my friends received from their dads. I wanted to know what it was like to be held and cherished by a man, what it was like to live with one from day to day.
As far as I was concerned, I already had one mother; I did not need another. My dream was that my mother would decide she wanted to be with men again, but obviously that dream did not come true. My grandfathers and uncles did the best they could when it came to spending time with me and doing all the daddy-daughter stuff, but it was not the same as having a full-time father, and I knew it. It always felt secondhand.
Growing up without the presence of a man in my home damaged me personally. All I wanted from the time I was a little girl was a normal family. When I graduated high school, my thoughts were not entirely where they needed to be. While my friends were excited about college, a piece of me was missing, and I knew I would never feel whole until I found it.
Men Need Women Need Men
I had a desire unlike any other to create my own family and have stability, and this led to two extremely unhealthy relationships. Luckily, I found my way out of both, but after being hurt and used so badly, I decided happiness just was not meant for me. Shortly afterwards, I met my husband, and everything clicked. For the first time, I felt alive and complete. Having children and seeing a man parent a child for the first time was beautiful and awe-inspiring. It only reinforced my belief that a child needs a mother and a father, and that same-sex parenting and single parenting are far inferior to heterosexual parenting when done correctly.
Knowing next to nothing about males is hardly all that was hard about being raised by two women. It probably comes as no surprise that growing up in Podunk, Oklahoma, was not a walk in the park. Unlike other kids who were apparently raised in gay utopias, I grew up very alone and isolated. I was an only child and there weren’t other kids around like me to talk with and relate to. No one I knew understood what I struggled with each day, and I had no option but to keep it all inside.
As an adult, I have tried to talk to my mom about how difficult my life was, but she simply cannot relate because she was raised by a mom and a dad. As a child, I would not have spoken out about the way I was being raised, either. I love my mom. She was the center of my universe and the thought of saying something to outsiders that would have hurt her devastated me. Writing this letter right this very moment is devastating me.
Gay People and Their Children Don’t All Think Alike
But I am doing it anyway. I am doing it because people need to know that it is not all roses. The effects of growing up the way I did still plays a part in my life today. I was beyond self-conscious as a child, and constantly worried about what others thought of me. I was always terrified of someone finding out my mom was a lesbian and then wanting nothing to do with me. For most of my life, the perceived opinions of others have dominated, and only recently have I been able to let that go.
That is only the tip of the iceberg. The studies claiming we are just as well or better off than our peers raised by straight parents are hardly scientific in most cases, and do not represent us all. People need to know that some children of gay parents do not agree with gay adoption and marriage, just like some gay people themselves don’t agree with it, either! But you will notice that fact is not making headlines.
The Huffington Post published two responses to Heather Barwick’s recent letter here at The Federalist, and both were written by people who were raised with members of the opposite sex in the home—a male raised by women, and a female who had brothers present. It makes total sense that their experiences were not like mine and Heather’s, since we were both raised by women.
And just because one product of artificial insemination does not feel she was robbed does not mean others don’t. I am aware there are kids out there who disagree with my point of view, just like there are gays out there who disagree with the LGBT community’s point of view. But to suggest this is not a reason to validate and listen to a handful of children raised by gays, and who are against it, is ridiculous. After all, it is but a handful of people demanding we redefine marriage and parenting, and we all see how well that’s going.
Not Yours,
Brandi Walton