A Disappointed Mother

Sometimes, I just want to scream. Sometimes at my children, sometimes at my husband. . .mostly at myself.

I'm suppose to be the best mother, and known as such. The one that loves her children regardless of anything they do.

She's now something I cannot get used to.

My sons are great, and they know I love them, but what I hate is that I don't think my daughter knows I love her, too.

She told us that she had a girlfriend—yes, a girlfriend, a month ago and I had hoped that I would get used to it and accept it.

But still, after a month, I'm not used to seeing her kiss another girl in greeting or in farewells, nor am I used to see my daughter, my beautiful, only daughter, cuddle with her girlfriend on the couch.

And what's worse, I do not want to go in public with the two of them.

It is true that the wizarding world is accepting of homosexuality, and for the general aspect of things I am as well, but to see my own personal family member be homosexual. . .it's just too much.

I am ashamed of my daughter, and it breaks my heart to say it and realize it, but I am. I don't want to look at her relationship and scowl, but it's just my natural reaction.

It breaks my heart, because I know that every time I look on disapprovingly it pushes her away from me just a bit more.

My only daughter. A lesbian. I still can't wrap my mind around the idea. I taught her everything I know, from cooking to cleaning, to knitting, to fixing clothes that had gotten torn and ripped playing games outdoors.

I had expected her to have grandchildren, and to teach them the same things I had taught her, but I realize that she won't, she can't.

I look over at her now, and turn away, sadness overwhelming me.

Where did I go wrong with her? It is a thought that crosses through my mind often. I just shake my head, trying to clear my mind and thoughts, and go back to whatever I was doing.

I am the mother who can't look at her daughter because she's ashamed.