Note: So I've gone a very long time without posting another blog entry about my coming out. This one is out of order but I feel like it's fitting for the moment. A lot of people say they have the best parents in the world, but I can back up my claim with facts; and this is just one of many.
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About a year had passed since I came out to my friends and
co-workers. I’d taken multiple trips home with the intent to finally tell
my family. This, in and of itself, was a step forward since I had once
made the decision to never tell my family. One thing I learned is that
it’s not fun or easy to keep secrets from those you love. My continued
good relationship with my family hinged on my ability to be honest with them
about who I was, and who I loved (or would love). I hear stories about a
planned approach to coming out to family and I had hoped to experience this,
but that wasn't in the cards. Since I had made the decision to stop
attending church, and with obvious changes in some of my values and beliefs, my
mom and I would have conversations about “why” during each of our visits, three
or four times a year. These were painful conversations for me, as the
heartbreak my mom was experiencing was obvious, and I couldn't explain my
decisions to her. She would ask questions like “What happened? What changed?”
“There is something you aren't telling me.” After countless times
of having this conversation, one late night sitting in my parents’ living room,
just my mom and I, I finally told her “There is only one thing I haven’t told
you…I’m gay.” After several minutes of silence and crying, which seemed
like eternity, my mom asks:
co-workers. I’d taken multiple trips home with the intent to finally tell
my family. This, in and of itself, was a step forward since I had once
made the decision to never tell my family. One thing I learned is that
it’s not fun or easy to keep secrets from those you love. My continued
good relationship with my family hinged on my ability to be honest with them
about who I was, and who I loved (or would love). I hear stories about a
planned approach to coming out to family and I had hoped to experience this,
but that wasn't in the cards. Since I had made the decision to stop
attending church, and with obvious changes in some of my values and beliefs, my
mom and I would have conversations about “why” during each of our visits, three
or four times a year. These were painful conversations for me, as the
heartbreak my mom was experiencing was obvious, and I couldn't explain my
decisions to her. She would ask questions like “What happened? What changed?”
“There is something you aren't telling me.” After countless times
of having this conversation, one late night sitting in my parents’ living room,
just my mom and I, I finally told her “There is only one thing I haven’t told
you…I’m gay.” After several minutes of silence and crying, which seemed
like eternity, my mom asks:
“So you've been with men?”
“Yes”
“Have you been with women?”
“Yes”
“And you didn't like it?”
“No, I had to think about men.”
The conversation progressed to even more uncomfortable questions
that every son hopes his mom will never ask. But after the initial shock,
my mom suggests we formulate a plan to tell the rest of the family.
that every son hopes his mom will never ask. But after the initial shock,
my mom suggests we formulate a plan to tell the rest of the family.
My mom contacted my dad at work and advised him to head straight
home, as he would often stop to work out after work. He walks in several
hours later and asks me if everything was alright, and if mom was alright.
She comes out of her room and we all head to the living room. I ask
my dad if he needs to go to the bathroom…or if he needs anything to
drink…biding my time. Unfortunately he didn't need or want anything, and
there was no way to prolong the issue, so I begin the dialogue my mom and I had
worked on.
home, as he would often stop to work out after work. He walks in several
hours later and asks me if everything was alright, and if mom was alright.
She comes out of her room and we all head to the living room. I ask
my dad if he needs to go to the bathroom…or if he needs anything to
drink…biding my time. Unfortunately he didn't need or want anything, and
there was no way to prolong the issue, so I begin the dialogue my mom and I had
worked on.
“Dad, I’m about to tell you something that you may not like.”
“You got somebody pregnant!”
That would have been much easier to share…but what I had to say
couldn't be further from that!
couldn't be further from that!
“Dad, I’m gay.” Silence for a moment…
”Damn”,
“Shit”,
“Damn boy”,
“Shit”.
This continued for a bit, it was kind of humorous actually, as this wasn't an angry response, just total surprise and shock. I offered to answer any questions and my dad assured me he had none, in fact he was adamant that he had no questions and wanted no details. But what he said next is quite possibly the best thing a father can say to his son in any situation:
“You’re my son, I love you and I’m not going to treat you any
different. And nobody else will either as long as they’re in this house.”
different. And nobody else will either as long as they’re in this house.”
Growing up my dad and I had our ups and
downs, we fought a lot, but he wasn't an absent father, or abusive. We
spent time together as a family and I think we were too much alike for our own
good. In hindsight it’s obvious that my dad always loved me, and was a
better father than he or I realized. He taught me to be the man that I am
and I wouldn't change anything about our relationship. As the rest of my family
was told about me, their reactions were a bit more varied. Some needed
time to process the information, and others stopped speaking to me. But
I’m not complaining, unlike many gay men, I have a father and a mother that
love me and support me in everything I do, and that's more than I could ever
hope for.
downs, we fought a lot, but he wasn't an absent father, or abusive. We
spent time together as a family and I think we were too much alike for our own
good. In hindsight it’s obvious that my dad always loved me, and was a
better father than he or I realized. He taught me to be the man that I am
and I wouldn't change anything about our relationship. As the rest of my family
was told about me, their reactions were a bit more varied. Some needed
time to process the information, and others stopped speaking to me. But
I’m not complaining, unlike many gay men, I have a father and a mother that
love me and support me in everything I do, and that's more than I could ever
hope for.
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