For most of my adult life I teetered back and forth between dating men and women. Deep within my heart I wanted to have a family one day.
It was the 1990s and early 2000s and I lived in country Australia.
I had no real notion of the variety of humans aside from the small glimpse I got when I watched Sydney Mardi Gras as a kid on free-to-air television.
Growing up, my parents were progressive but we weren’t surrounded by gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender people. It was OK, but I wasn’t exposed to enough to know where I fit in.
As I got older, I always had more meaningful relationships with women, but thought I would settle down with a man so I could have a family. IVF existed in Australia but it was predominantly for straight couples struggling to conceive.
The option of going it alone was very limited with IVF clinics in the mid-2000s stipulating whether or not they helped single women. There weren’t many that did.
One day I packed my car, set off into the sunset and headed for Sydney, where my memories from Mardi Gras parades came rushing back. I was certain I would find happiness in the big smoke.
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