Susan Mayo,bio.

Susan Mayo’s Biography

My name is Susan Mayo and I was born in Los Angles California on July 12, 1945 to Alfred M. and Evelyn Mayo, he an engineer for Douglas Aircraft and she a stay at home mom. Married for almost eight years before I was born, my parents were well settled in their childless routine when I came along. My father particularly had had a very difficult relationship with his mother and he really liked that Evelyn devoted her total attention to him. With my birth, all of that changed and I suspect the honeymoon was over for both of my folks. I was a very active and inquisitive child, walking before I was six months old and talking very early as well. My poor mother (who did such things as bleach all of our floors so that I would not be exposed to germs) did not know what to do with a daughter who when put outside in a play pen would first crawl out over the top, and then proceed to dig up and eat sow bugs. Mother had saved pennies to prepare for her dream child and she wanted nothing more than to dress me in ribbons and bows and show me off. I had other ideas. When we would go out, mom would dress me and put me in whatever container she thought would hold me while she ran in and dressed herself. By the time she would be dressed, I would be out of my confines and stark naked running first around the house, and as soon as I learned how to unlock doors, up and down the street in the neighborhood. I really feel sorry for my mom as she was totally unequipped to deal with a child like me. I still have echos in my mind of her shrieking “all I ever wanted was a little girl I could dress up and LOOK WHAT I GOT!!!”. I was the bane of her existence until the day of her death and she would tell anyone who would listen how it was because I was such an awful child that she had a myriad of illnesses that she enjoyed mightily until her death at age 87. My earliest recollections are of my mother telling me how I was killing her because I was such a willful, boyish child!

My father was a genius who spent the majority of his time inventing things and he was not interested in kids. Actually, he resented the fact that he no longer had my mother’s undivided attention and he was therefore largely absent in my memories. I remember being glad that he was gone most of the week and I didn’t like it when he was around the house on weekends. After I grew up I realized that my dad was a seriously intelligent man who did such things as design the Mercury Capsule, but as a child, I felt that he was an unnecessary obstruction and I really felt that he was totally indifferent to me and later to my brother as well. I was almost 40 years old before I seriously considered the fact that he probably did care for me in his own way when he helped me to get this farm started by designing my barn using the materials available.

From the time I can first remember which I was told was at about age 2, I knew that I could not relate to men emotionally. Of course I had no word for it, but I knew I was different and when asked if I was going to grow up and have kids I would always should NO! I seemed to realize from the beginning that I would have to take care of myself, so I taught myself very early on how to get what I wanted by doing jobs of all kinds.

My folks took me to Griffith Park one Sunday afternoon when I was about 6 months old and put me on a pony. That was the beginning of what has been my lifelong passion. I was never one to cry for any reason, but when they tried to take me off the pony, I screamed and had a total tantrum. Recognizing that this perhaps would be one way to control me, my folks were quick to latch on to riding as a way to make me do what they wanted me to do. If I wouldn’t wear a dress, I didn’t get to go riding. If I insisted on going to the neighbors asking for jobs, I didn’t get to go riding. Later on whenever I frustrated my mother in any way and for any reason, the threat that if I wasn’t whatever it was she wanted me to be at that moment, she would sell my horse. My horse was the only thing in the world that mattered to me, and I did believe her and that made me miserable much of my childhood. The things that I did that frustrated her were not things like dishonesty, or lying or cheating, but things I had no control over like not being feminine, running too much, not wanting to come in and spend time with her, and so on.

Perhaps it was because I was so engrossed with the horses that I did not seek out information, or perhaps it was because you just didn’t hear much about “homosexuality” back then, but I did not have a word for what I knew I was until I was about 16. I met a woman who was 45 and to me very glamorous indeed. She was a psychiatric nurse who had served as an Army nurse in WW2 and she was also an artist. She drove a TR3 and I fell head over heels in love with her. I was working at the Horseman’s Mart when Pat first came in. She had purchased a horse and had not a clue what she needed to buy for him, so I offered to go with her to meet her horse and help her figure out what it was she needed. She was not a rider and the horse she had purchased was not a beginners horse, so she hired me to train the horse for her and to give her lessons on riding him. We met a couple of times a week at the barn and slowly I became aware that this was the woman I wanted! This did not sit well with Pat. She was 45, she lived with her cousin (also a lesbian, but totally closeted) who was a physician, and she would have no more seduced a 16 year old than she would have gone out and shot someone. I was totally the aggressor and it took me almost two years to get her to even consider a relationship with me. When finally we did become lovers, she was unable to be physical unless she was about half drunk, and she never ever admitted that we were “lesbians”! She would say that we loved each other, but we were NOT homosexuals. That really played a number on my head because I didn’t care one whit what you called it, I knew that I loved her and wanted her to verbally acknowledge our relationship. Never did happen. She is now 87 and still one of my dearest friends, and she STILL blushes and is horrified when I remind her of our ancient love. During this period I did discover gay bars and met quite a few lesbians, but back then (in the early sixties) those lesbians that you met at bars were generally butch/femme and of different type of person than I was comfortable with. They were hard drinking hard fighting women who seemed hell bent at mimicking the heterosexual experience, which never really made any sense to me. I couldn’t relate to men, I sure didn’t want to relate to a woman who was trying to act like a man. I was told I was totally butch, but I never wanted to be a man, and I never wanted to act like one. It is funny, I have a transgendered second cousin who asked me once why I did not have a sex change. I told him I didn’t particularly like men, I sure as hell didn’t want to be one! I told him I was much happier being a very strong and able woman and had no need to be a phony man.

During the years I was discovering the name for my sexuality and some things about it, my mother cottoned on to the fact that there was more to me than just being a tom-boy. She threatened to send me to a mental institution if I did not quit being “like that”! Again, I believed her, and I also knew that it was very dangerous to Pat if mother ever figured that one out, so at age 17 I told my folks to take their college fund and stick it where the sun didn’t shine, and I moved out of their house never to spend another night there forever. I worked many jobs between 17 and 21 saving money to go to school, and building my own group of friends and family. When I was 21 and no longer able to be harmed by my folks I made a date to see them and told them about myself and said that if they could not accept it and be nice about it I would never see them again. Things were kindof rough for awhile, but they came around and from about age 25 on they were fairly supportive of my life and my endeavors. They did help me many times with such things as putting on horse shows, showing my horses, and as I mentioned earlier, designing things for this farm. The barn that stands on my farm today was built by my father and I using materials I took down from a leased barn and moved up here to the new land. While I never did really trust my folks, we did end up with a pretty good relationship and I do know that they did the best they could do given the times they were raised in.

It took me eight years to finally decide that Pat was never going to accept our relationship without agonizing over it, so I reluctantly ended it. I was in college, and had horses that needed to be taken care of, and in general was way too busy to concentrate on having a love life. I became a teacher so that I would have enough time to do my horses and also because I knew I was good at it and enjoyed it. In 1969 I graduated from college with a teaching certificate and began looking for a job. I was aware of the fact that Texas in the late sixties was not a liberal place, however I was never able to do anything to disguise myself and I was constantly aware that there was a possibility that at any given point I could loose my career if my homosexuality caught the attention of the wrong people. Nonetheless, while not outwardly advertising it at school, I never denied it or tried to hide it. I had a brief relationship with a Englishwoman who was a lawyer (she is still one of my dear friends), and then I met what was to become my nemesis.

I was at a party and a redheaded spitfire who turned on the charm and set her sights on me. I was totally unaccustomed to the “lesbian scene” and had no idea that she was a notorious “bad girl” who jumped from woman to woman leaving havoc in her wake. We got together in 1973 and were together until 1981. I am very honest, and I don’t look for people to be doing things that I wouldn’t be doing, so I did not realize that she was bagging every gay teacher in the district, as well as trying to get her hooks into various of my riding students (and their mothers). This situation almost undid me forever because I was so totally unaware and trusted her. Even after I discovered her duplicities and confronted her with them, she proclaimed everlasting love and declared that the other things were “just sex” and did not matter at all. She would not leave. I had to take all of her possessions and put them on two flatbed trailer and park them out on the interstate in order to get rid of her. Even at that, for ten years I would periodically awake to her presence in my bedroom or my classroom, or at a horse show. She just about killed me. By the time I finally got totally rid of her I weighed about 110 pounds (which is not much when you are over six feet tall), and I was sure I would never let anyone close enough to hurt me again.

The eighties were about building my current farm and becoming established as a recognized breeder of fine Asil Arabians. I worked non stop and had no social life aside from the company of riding students and a very few lesbian friends who were also involved with the horses. For years I had no personal life at all and had no desire for one. In 1986 one of my friends brought one of her friends out to the farm and I met Cyann. Cyann loved horses, was a rider, and became a student and a friend. She became part of the Susar Family, helping with shows and in general being a part of the rather huge effort that this farm is. In 1987 we realized that we cared deeply for each other and Cyann sold her home and moved out to the farm. That was almost 21 years ago and we are still doing the farm, loving each other and our animals, and enjoying growing old together. My only regret is that I did not meet Cyann until I was in my forties.