A personal story about the impact coming to terms with your own gender identity and sexuality has on your relationship with your children.
I start with my forced marriage to my ex husband - who was an orthodox Rabbi - in a Synagogue in London.
I grew up strictly orthodox. I was nineteen when I was pressured into getting married, and I wasn’t listened to when I said I wasn’t ready. Within a week of being introduced we were engaged, three months later we were married and six weeks later I was pregnant with my first daughter. I have a phobia called emetophobia (fear of vomit), and the nausea I suffered throughout my pregnancy was extremely anxiety provoking for me. My daughter was born after fourteen hours of labour. The first thing I said through the tears that seeped from my eyes, was ‘Oh my gosh, she has ginger hair’. I was in total shock. I was a parent.
I never really wanted to have children. Before I had a chance to express or understand that, I was already a mother. My eldest was a calm baby who was rarely ill, but by the time she was nine months old, I was tired of constantly feeling needed, it drained all my resources. I put her in a nursery so I could find something for myself to do. But then she turned one, and I had to stop using birth control - that was the limit our rabbi allowed. A month later I was pregnant - again - and suffering from nausea - again. It was such a fraught period of my life - I had contracted a virus in my first trimester, and up until amniocentesis at 22 weeks, I didn’t know if it had passed to the placenta, which could have caused the baby to be born with serious disabilities. After a very challenging pregnancy, my second daughter was born. She was not the easiest of children. She was constantly ill. This meant that there were multiple hospital visits, which further triggered my emetophobia and anxiety. I felt even more lost as a parent as I struggled with constant anxiety.
"I never really wanted to have children. Before I had a chance to express or understand that, I was already a mother."
Parenting did not fulfil me. I had nothing that gave me joy. I found the constant pull on my resources so draining, I found the lack of authenticity in my life soul destroying, not just around parenting, but I was a Rebbetzen, the Rabbi’s wife, a community leader. I felt like I was constantly performing.
Four years after my second daughter was born, I gave birth to my youngest. It had been another very challenging pregnancy. She was also constantly unwell. She had poor weight gain, reflux and many allergies, and I was in and out of hospital with her. I suffered severe postnatal depression and severe anxiety. I did not know how to give love, attention and care to my three children, as I had no idea how to give it to myself. How was I supposed to give something that I did not have? I finally reached out to my GP and started counselling. The counsellor told me I was bored and I needed an outlet, but they would help me with the emetophobia. And so, I started EFT (emotional freedom technique), this did not help.
We moved back to London after a six year job in Birmingham; I thought London would help me find myself, friends, and connection, but it was just another place to feel lost. I knew I needed something, so I started life coaching. I discovered that I was gay, my ex immediately asked for a divorce and I started body psychotherapy.
"I did not know how to give love, attention and care to my three children, as I had no idea how to give it to myself."
At this point I started to find myself. I had to repair my relationship with my children who were now ten, eight and four. A lot of damage had been done. My eldest was so angry and my anxiety was so huge. I didn’t feel I was capable of being a parent and I asked their dad if they could live with him so I could heal myself. I still managed all of their physical needs by arranging and taking them to any appointments, dealing with any schooling issues such as bullying which was taking place, and their trauma living at their dad’s, from afar. Once my eldest rang me from her dad’s house and said ‘Mummy, there is a mouse in my room, what should I do?’
I started wearing trousers, which had been forbidden to me. This was a huge expression of self. When my eldest daughter found out she went ballistic. There was huge shame for her around the fact that she had a mum who wore trousers while she was in her ultra-religious school. She asked me not to wear them in the Jewish area where I lived and in front of her friends - at that point I agreed. My other two girls said ‘You need to do what you need, and we’ll accept it’. I struggled with a huge amount of guilt.
"My other two girls said ‘You need to do what you need, and we’ll accept it’."
Over time my children started to stay with me more often, it went from just visiting me on a Sunday to staying Sunday night and then once a month Friday-Sunday.
My trouser wearing became more consistent, my hair got shorter and my children’s shame decreased. I had stopped conforming. They adapted to the new status quo, or so I thought. Their friends were not allowed to visit and they were ostracised, and by this point I was going through a huge dilemma in my head, when do I tell my children I am gay?
I had slowly started introducing my children to my queer friends, to get them used to the idea of different queer identities but I still did not have the courage to come out to them. I was very afraid of rejection. By now, I had known for the past three years that I was gay; it was time. I was in the car with my then thirteen year old and I said to her, ‘Do you know I am gay?’ She said, ‘Mummy, duh, it’s so obvious’. I felt this huge relief off my shoulders. My secret (which was obviously not really a secret) was out. I asked ‘Do your sisters know?’ She said the eldest did and the youngest did not. I spoke to my youngest, she struggled with it the most after her father and stepmother insisting to her that being gay was against the religion she was being brought up in.
As I became more authentic and started healing, I came out as non-binary and my relationship with my children also started healing. As I learnt to love who I was, there was more love, care and affection available for my children.
"As I learnt to love who I was, there was more love, care and affection available for my children."
I still struggle with guilt; for leaving them with their dad in an environment that was toxic for them and for not being able to be there as a mother - especially for my eldest two in their younger years. With all that, my three children now live with me full time. We live a life of our choosing, we laugh together, we dance together, and we live together with authenticity.
Article Written by Jude Rose
(They/Them)
Join Queermunity on Sunday 24th January at 5 p.m. for a screening of Jude, a film by Helen Benigson (2020), about Jude's life, followed by an Instagram Live Q&A session at 6 p.m. with them!