"Wait, are you all brothers?"
No, definitely not. Moke and I (Mark) are married, and my former husband, Tom, lives in the pool house of our family property, where we're all raising our eight-year-old twins, Beau and Coy. It's a hectic, busy, and beautiful arrangement. For instance, a typical weekday might begin at 6 AM as the three of us dads–stylish but overcaffeinated–wrangle to get our overly rambunctious twins off to school. At drop-off, a crossing guard smiles and says, "Oh, how nice—your brother and their grandpa are helping today!" We've been mistaken for brothers, uncles, sons, even a throuple more times than we can count. (For clarity, we're not a throuple: some consider us more "traditional" and unconventional at the same time.) The three of us exchange a familiar glance of bemusement as we take in the puzzled expression on the crossing guard's face.
Tom and I got married over a decade ago and knew we wanted a family. We had the twins through surrogacy with an amazing and beautiful woman, Ashley, who became like family to us. We even stayed at Ashley's place after the twins were born so she could lend her nurturing touch and the love that only a mother could extend to our newborns. A few years later, Tom and I divorced, but we didn't "break" up our family – we reimagined it. Tom is a beloved figure in our family, and we're thrilled that he lives with us, allowing us to maintain a stable life for the twins. Unusual, maybe, but for us, it works. Our kids come first, and having "Dad #3" just steps away makes parenting so much easier.
After my divorce, I met my current husband, also named Mark; we affectionately refer to him as Moke (rhymes with "coke"), a nickname coined because the twins couldn't pronounce his name. Bringing a new partner into our unique setup was an adventure, and to his credit, Moke took it in stride.
Before moving in, he rented a nearby apartment so the kids could get to know him gradually. He wanted to build a connection with them before jumping into the deep end. I even set up a nanny cam once to observe how he interacted with them. He passed. It may sound extreme, but that's how seriously we took it. For this to work, we all knew that the five of us had to have an inextricable connection defined by love, respect, kindness, and patience.
Indeed, that's what we got.
"Bringing a new partner into our unique setup was an adventure, and to his credit, Moke took it in stride."Mike Ruiz
Moke often says that when he fell in love with me, he fell in love with all of us, including the kids and Tom. Tom admitted he was a bit nervous about sharing dad duties with a newcomer, but those worries faded fast. Before long, the twins were calling him "Daddy Moke," so having a third dad in the mix felt natural. Our family not only gained another parent but another source of love.
Now, it's not all roses and champagne. Moke is an artist with a distinct vision for everything, and that extends to cleaning and the presentation of the house. Tom, on the other hand, believes a little chaos adds character. And yes, there is still an ongoing debate about the fact that Tom wears my old wedding ring. But somehow, it works. We've expanded our support network considerably thanks to our beloved nanny, Jennie, who is undoubtedly part of the family, and our close circle of friends who help make up our very own village.
We didn't set out to be activists. But by living our lives openly, we've learned that visibility itself is a quiet form of activism. Every time we share a slice of our life online, we're showing the world that family can look a little different – and that's okay. Simply by being ourselves in public, we're challenging ideas of what a family "should" be.
The response has been humbling. Take, for instance, a recent interaction with a teenage fan who stopped us at the airport to share that seeing three gay dads raise happy kids made him believe he could have that kind of future, too. That message made me tear up. That drove home how living our truth can help others. We've found that just existing loudly and proudly can make a powerful statement. As Moke often says, "Family can look any way you want it to, as long as there's love and laughter." We hope our family encourages others to embrace their unique dynamics.
Tom, who has never been one to seek attention, says he's fine being called an "accidental activist" as long as it means more people realize that families come in all kinds of sizes, shapes, colors, faiths, orientations, etc. His take? "We're a little crazy, but it works."
We're now preparing to welcome baby number three, a long-awaited event we've been discussing for years. Our excitement (and nerves) are palpable. It's been a while since we had a newborn in the house, but this time, we've got experience—and a bigger village—on our side.
This will be Tom's second go at fatherhood at 71. He became a parent for the first time at 62, and now he's doing it again. We tease him that he's not a grandpa; he's just a retroactive rookie.
He claims he has more energy now than he did a decade ago. (We'll see how he feels after a few night feedings.)
I'll admit, after having twins, I thought our baby days were behind us. We already had our hands full. But life has a way of surprising you. Now we get to do it all again, years later, and it feels like a gift. Beau and Coy are thrilled at the prospect of becoming big sisters and brothers. And the three of us dads are a bit older and wiser now, and hopefully wise enough to function on no sleep this time! The first time around, Tom and I stumbled through midnight feedings and diaper disasters. This time, we have experience on our side and an entire village ready to help.
So, what's different with baby number three on the horizon? For one thing, we're not bracing for twins again. Well, at least none that we know of. But then again, that would be a welcome surprise, too! Additionally, this baby will be joining a fully formed parenting team. When the twins were infants, it was just Tom and I figuring things out, and later Moke joined in. Now, this little one will arrive to find three adoring dads and siblings from the very beginning.
If our journey has proven anything, it's that it takes a village to raise a child. And for many of us in the LGBTQ+ community, that village is each other. We've been lucky to have an entire support network become part of our family, and it reminds me that none of us can do this alone. Not everyone has a setup like ours (most people don't have their ex-husband living out back!), but each of us can be part of a supportive village in our way.
So here's my call to action: let's strengthen our community, one step at a time. Perhaps it's offering to babysit for the two moms down the street so they can finally enjoy a night out or volunteering with an LGBTQ+ youth organization to help more kids find safe, loving homes. And when someone insists, "kids need a mother and a father," you can gently share stories like ours to show that what kids truly need is love and support.
Every night, once the kids are asleep, I sit and marvel at how far we've come. If you told me ten years ago that I'd be sitting on a couch between my husband and my ex, watching our twins wrestle over their iPads, I'd have thought you were crazy. Yet here we are: three dads, two happy kids, and hopes of another on the way, all under one roof, making it work.
It's unconventional, absolutely, but it's our reality, and I would have it no other way.
Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ community and its allies. Visit out.com/submit to learn more about submission guidelines. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on any of our stories. Email us at voices@equalpride.com. Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists and editors, and do not directly represent the views of Out or our parent company, equalpride.
