Those who are close to us know that once upon a time (pre-pandemic), we wanted to adopt and be parents. Yet, the universe had other plans. She looked at me and she said “Nah, gurl, you look better with a Speedo than with a trolley. How about an AussieDoodle instead? You have less opportunity to be a tiger mom and fuck that one up”. And the rest, as they say, is history.
My straight friends with kids sometimes ask if I am sad that I can never be a parent. And here’s the surprising thing about humans (especially queer people). We are resilient. We accept the things we can’t get, and we grieve, and we build a new future for ourselves. Don’t get me wrong, I still do enjoy hanging out with young humans. (I’m gonna be the best fucking guncles any kids that can come in contact with) I enjoy teaching, mentoring, and coaching. I just won’t have “my own” kids. So our happiness pretty much levels out, and we found tremendous joy in all the other things that we do as childless gays.
I am glad we didn’t have kids during the pandemic. I was glad we didn’t have kids during the past few years of geopolitical uncertainty and personal circumstances changes (jobs, career, housing). I am sure as hell glad that we don’t have kids in this current space-time continuum of political uncertainty on a burning planet.
We get to travel. We get to frolic for a weekend and catch Pokémon. We get to book separate trips with our best friends. (Yes, we travel solo, without each other, while the other is home with the dog. Dan’s co-worker was like, “You let your husband travel by himself?” Nah, I don’t “let” him. I encourage him. I want each of us to have a full, joyful life, together and independently.) We get to sleep in on the weekend and not worry about camping, hockey, daycare, etc. We can load the dog into the car and embark on a road trip for a week.
It might seem selfish (and it is) to say that out loud. But I think, now, more than ever, I want to focus on myself, my family, my community. I have found other things that spark joy. I enjoy my time with gaming, reading, learning, and writing. I focus on my work. I enjoy the company of my dog, my friends, and my family. I volunteer. I coach and mentor young people. I live life with a small footprint and aspire to a large impact.
And I think that’s ok. That’s joyful, actually. In the face of so much anxiety and uncertainty in the world, a little bit of queer joy is in itself a lot of resistance.
And as Mochi would say.
When I die, I want to reincarnate into a Canadian childless gay couple’s home as their only dog.
Pace Fine Arts 