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We sat at the bar, ordered wine and tapas, and talked.Handsome and warm, he told me about how he had immigrated from northern Spain to get his master’s degree in restaurant management from Cornell.
I wanted him to connect sex with love and be genuinely interested in both, maybe too much to expect from a 13-year-old boy.
I had enjoyed trying different cuisines and learning about new wines with him.
I liked listening to his stories and enjoyed introducing him to new experiences and new ways of seeing the world.
He had a fierce love for his country but had been a Brooklynite for the past 30 years.
After graduation, he started a business and a family, raising two daughters. By the end of the evening, we had arranged to see each other again. Although I imagined that there would be some challenges, I hoped they would be surmountable.
Two moms and their children got no strange looks, caused no embarrassed confusion as would have been unavoidable less than a decade earlier.
From the start, Avie was enthusiastic about getting to know my two sons.
One day, I opened my computer to find it on a page that provided answers to questions about sex.
While loosely educational in nature, the site depicted an alluring blond woman with enormous breasts as a model to illustrate the things a man could do with a woman. It was clear that I could not be the person to provide him with answers. They reassured, commiserated and conspired with my son as they gently guided his transition to manhood.
My job, as I saw it, was to maintain the integrity of our two-mom family, even if the second mom was no longer my wife.
When Luca used “gay” as an insult, I’d challenge him. Do you know that you’re insulting our moms when you say that?!
I asked him specifically to stop using heterosexual relationships as a default.