the fallout: my coming out story, part three...

part one
part two

       we've talked about it since the big day back in december: an official "part two" of the discussion, which was to take place after my parents reviewed the materials i gave them and did some searching (soul and otherwise) of their own. well, finally, that day was today. they drove down to como yesterday evening and we spent the evening just being together. went for dinner at a hibachi restaurant, where i spilled dr. pepper all over my jeans and new calvin klein hoodie (i'm not really a brand sort of person, which was one of the draws of this hoodie -- no billboards attached, even if the price tag was larger than i normally can afford, but i didn't buy it either. fortunately it survived the incident unscathed). there was a really cute waiter there, too. he wasn't ours, unfortunately, but i was glad that he didn't see me running to the restroom with what looked like a big pee stain on my pants. anyway, after going back to my apartment for fresh clothes we went to see "how to train your dragon," which was a surprise. i really liked it.

       today we slept in and i made banana pancakes, refusing to go to ihop for the greasy stuff, although that ihop diet always does me good (there's always someone fatter than you). dishes were washed and showers were had and then we sat down to talk. they told me that they've grown a lot, that their attitudes have changed/are changing, but then they started talking about these books they read by more christian psychologists who thickly slather guilt on the parents and completely disregard the genetic research. but hey, at least it's not my fault, yeah? oh, but apparently i still have the opportunity to change my mind and repent.

       *sigh*

       they told me that they'd always be there for me, that they love me and support me and would welcome my boyfriend/husband/partner/man should i bring him home, but that they still think it's a sin and just in case i ever want to be straight they wanted me to know that they'd help me out. or rather back in.

       i suggested that they see a non-christian counselor and run those other books (that should be stored at a dry, 451 degrees) by them to see what they have to say.

       in all fairness, i know this is hard for them. they told me that people are talking, in whispers and otherwise, that some are sending them anti-gay propaganda. i told them, in a much nicer way, that it's none of those people's fucking business and that they (my parents) shouldn't give a shit.

       it wasn't heated. it was a decent conversation, really, and we were all pretty open. but i'm disappointed (even though i'm happy that they have come a long way). i came away with the impression that they think it's a phase, or at least that they hope it is. but there was a point where we all realized we were hungry again and decided to go for lunch and enjoy the day. so we walked around columbia a bit, visited my current place of employment for lunch and my former place of employment for dessert and stopped at a local organics store for some tomatoes which we took back to my apartment to make guacamole.

       in the end i think it's something they'll get used to. well, they'll have to, really. or it'll turn into one of those things that the family kinda ignores and pretends isn't there. any guys i bring home won't be people i love and make love with, but "roommates" or "friends." oy. fortunately, tonight i'm going to a gay bar for lots of needed fun and booze and debauchery and mostly naked men.

no more secrets: my coming out story, part two...

(click for part one)

       it was sunday afternoon. i had a little speech prepared, just a few sentences. my car was packed, coat on, and i had already said goodbye to my grandmother. i went back up to my room to conspicuously make sure i hadn't left anything behind, but really it was to get the little package wrapped in plain brown paper -- and to catch my breath while taking a last look out my window over the snow covered lawn, the poplars draped in white, and the frozen pond. that had always been one of my favorite views, but it wasn't very soothing this time. i knew that it could very possibly be the last time i saw it. i listened to my parents downstairs, dad was patiently explaining something football related to my mom, and hearing their voices made my heart race all the more. i don't remember walking down the stairs. i think it was one of those "i'm not ready but i'm doing it anyway" sort of moments. i stood a little awkwardly at the bottom of the staircase, holding the package and wondering what to do. finally i mustered a "can i talk to you guys?" followed by "i have something else for you."

       i handed the package to my mother and sat beside her on the couch, telling her not to open it yet. dad was on the other couch, reclining, watching the game. he got up, turned off the tv, and returned to his seat. both of them looked at me, wondering, and i forgot how to speak. suddenly my little speech was horribly wrong -- too formal, too long, too lost in the rush of adrenaline. "it's not a christmas present," i said. i didn't want them to be disappointed. heh. struggling for words, i finally just said, "open it."

       my mom opened it, upside down, saw that it was a book, and asked in all seriousness if i had been published and was giving them a copy. i wished that were the case. "no," i said rather awkwardly, "i'm gay."

       my dad went quiet. my mom looked like someone had just punched her. "what?!" she said. and the questions started; not rapid fire, but measured, with processing time between each: hot, sticky, and painful seconds that wouldn't tick by fast enough. "are you sure?" "how do you know?" "are you sure?" "do you have a boyfriend?" "have you had sex?" "you're attracted to men?" "but you dated girls--what about them?" "you were attracted to them, weren't you?" "what about rene? she was cute. or erin?" "who else knows?" "do you go to gay bars?" "are you promiscuous?" "do you believe in the bible?" "what about sodom and gomorrah?" "you know aids is a very real thing, don't you?" "just because you like to bake and act and play music doesn't mean you're gay."

       i was patient, but some of the questions were pretty ridiculous. in some ways i can't really blame them. i'm twenty-six and just now telling them, but i didn't really accept it that long ago either. they were visibly shaken, disbelieving, almost like i was telling them as some plea for attention. to their credit, they were careful. they didn't use the word "sin," though they had to sidestep it a few times, and i didn't see any disgust on their faces. but they did make it clear that they believed it was a choice and not a good one. the talk lasted almost an hour. they promised to try to be open-minded about the materials i had given them, as long as i would be open-minded about any materials they gave me in response. i'm worried about that one. my brother texted me last night, told me mom had told him to watch my facebook, to let her know what my relationship status was, if i had changed my "interested in:" section, and to watch my status updates. i texted her and asked her very politely not to have my brother spy on me but that if she wanted to know something all she had to do was ask, that if i wanted to be dishonest i wouldn't have told them. they're having a family meeting tonight, my parents and my brother and sister-in-law. caleb said he'd tell me how it went.

       so i guess that's not the entire story just yet. it took me over fifteen years to come to terms with it: i'd always known, but didn't want to. it's the least i can do to give them time as well. it wasn't quite the cathartic experience i was hoping for, but it is done. no more secrets. ball's in their court.

my coming out story, part one...

December 12, 2009

       it's been a long time since i've had a protected post, or any post for that matter. just wanted to get some thoughts down. i made up my mind about a month ago to come out to my parents when i'm home for christmas. i don't remember exactly what prompted the decision -- i had not intended to tell them for, well, ever. i couldn't even imagine telling my more or less mormon parents that their quiet son was always quiet because he liked boys and was living in a world of self-loathing and shame. in my fantasies i was always telling them in an email while safe in the arms of someone i love at a very safe distance. i like feeling safe. but this is probably the most difficult thing i've ever done. if you've ever seen the movie "latter days" you'll have an idea of what i'm looking at. my parents aren't utah mormon, though, which is the church that many estimate to have funded about 50% of california's prop. 8 victory. that's the church (lds) that followed brigham young in the first major split when the church's original founder was assassinated. my parents belong to the church (rlds) that followed joseph smith jr.'s son, joseph number three, which stayed in the kansas city area. it also had its splits between more liberal and conservative views, but my parents remained with the group that became one of the most conservative of the "mormon" family tree. yeah, more conservative. they're a small group and don't have nearly the power or resources that the lds church has. no walmart or dole or coca-cola to fund legislation. but i'm getting off topic.

       the first thing i did was research because i'm a nerd like that. i googled "how to come out to your parents" and bought books and movies on amazon and spent hours in the library. in one book i read ("just a mom" by betty degeneres -- one of the books i will be giving to my parents when i tell them) the author mentioned that in her experience, in every case but one the parents had eventually come to terms with their son's or daughter's sexuality. that one case was a mormon family. that's about when the anxiety attacks started. ever since it's been a roller coaster of doubts and resolutions that i've tried to keep as far back in my mind as possible. it hit hardest the night i returned to columbia after being home for thanksgiving, a combination of nerves and anxiety and the possibility that that might be the last thanksgiving i spend with my family. not a very encouraging thought, and almost enough to stop me. it's not a matter of giving up my family for this "alternative lifestyle," but a matter of not wanting to lie anymore, not wanting to hide. when i think about not telling them the first thing i think about is that if by some miracle i have a big happy gay family ten years down the road, my new family still wouldn't be able to know my parents. i still wouldn't be able to spend holidays with them or tell them how their grandchildren are. either way i could lose my family in one way or another. and i hate lying, or at least real lying. i'm tired of secrets, of tiptoeing around things, of not being able to be myself. i even have to be careful here in columbia because it would too easily make its way back to my parents if the wrong people found out. i'm tired of having to take off my pride bracelet when i go back to my apartment. i have to tell them.

       i told my brother early last week, in the first couple days of december. it had been suggested by a few friends and a few of the things i read that having someone in the family who knew before might prove helpful. he lives in the kc area and we text often, so i told him i had something to run past him, swore him to secrecy, and after a couple minutes pounding my fist on the floor and screaming expletives into the nearest pillow, i sent the text that shoved the boulder from its perch on the mountain that is my closet, which was quickly followed by a second and much prolonged string of the same. he was shocked. still processing it, actually. but we talked for a long time in what turned out to be one of the deepest conversations i've ever had with my brother. i'm still not sure what he thinks, exactly, but i have a feeling we'll be fine eventually. he asked if he could tell his wife, which i reluctantly consented. you know how women are, and i don't mean that in a derogatory way. it's just true. she was much less surprised, which didn't surprise me. i knew there had been rumors. and that gave me some hope for my parents. but then my mother is also one who threw dr. dobson at my lesbian cousin until she "changed" (she dated and got engaged to a man, but has since broken off the engagement) and my father is the man who stopped giving money to his alma mater in iowa (a university run by the church) because they accidentally allowed a gay marriage in their chapel after iowa passed its law making it legal. nearly every time i talk to him he has something homophobic to say. i have no idea how they will react. they might surprise me. but i'm taking a "prepare for the worst, hope for the best" approach. and i'm trying to gather enough materials to make it easier on them, including this website, and this dvd, this dvd, the betty degeneres book i mentioned before, and also this book. i hope they help.

       it seems surreal right now. i'm sure it will feel much more real as the day approaches, but i'm enjoying this slight mental reprieve for now. it almost feels inevitable, which is comforting in an odd way. it's coming, like a train, and it's going to hit. all i can do is hope for the best. i've assembled some books and dvds and websites for my parents that will hopefully help them in coming to terms with having a gay son. i plan to tell them the day i return to columbia: sunday, december 27th. i plan to pack up my car while they're at church in case i need to make a hasty and emotional exit. i'll give them the resources wrapped in plain brown paper, tell them to wait to open it, then tell them that i want to talk to them. i have a short preface ready, a couple sentences (i can't imagine i'll be able to handle more than that) telling them very concisely what i've told you here. then i'll say those two words that i'll never be able to take back, the words i've been so obsessively hiding from my parents for the last twenty years.

       i very much hope that i'll be able to give you a happy part two. until then.

December 22, 2009

       it's different now that i'm here. it was a long day: work earlier, which was slow since the students are all gone, then an emergency trip to the (gorgeous) vet for poor hermes, who's been sick and hasn't been eating. this followed by hurried loads of laundry and dishes and packing, going over everything multiple times to make sure i hadn't forgotten something, and before i know it i'm giving my mother a hug. suddenly the two worlds that i've fought so violently to keep separate for ages are crashing together with just as much violence, but they haven't hit yet, and the wait is torture. my resolve hasn't lessened. but i am afraid. i find myself choking on the words days before they've had a chance to pass my lips. it's easy to make up your mind when you're not staring them in the face, hearing about their plans, when you don't have to see the damage you're about to do. i really hope i'm doing the right thing.

(click for part two)