An Uncomfortable Truth: Children of the Swingers
Growing up a queer child in the backwoods of Pennsylvania, I was no stranger to secrets. The world I grew up in was intolerant, ignorant, and, at times, violent toward people like me. I kept myself quiet and small, trying not to draw attention to myself or my identity. I dreamed of a day where I could live authentically without fear for my safety and well-being. But the truth was, while also battling with my own inner identity, there was a second battle occurring within my own home.
I wish I could say there was a defining moment where the sun, moon, and stars all centered in perfect alignment, and the truth about my parents became completely visible to me. But in reality, there were breadcrumbs. Tiny little happenstances that confirmed a belief that I had my whole life, but just didn’t have the words to effectively describe at my young age.
I didn’t have a firm understanding of sex and relationships. Monogamy was not something within my prepubescent vocabulary. Sex was considered a taboo topic. We were Catholics. We went to church on Sunday and CCD class in the afternoons. I was taught to fear how others would treat my body and to fiercely protect it.
All of which was contradictory to the happenings in my own home.
