i did it

And just like that, it's over.

My mom called Wednesday afternoon for some computer help, and off-handedly mentioned how nice it was I'd invited them for dinner on Sunday. She asked if my younger sister could come, and I said no. She asked why, and I said "because we're going to talk." She asked "about something important?" I said, "we're just going to talk." (I didn't want to say no because the whole point is to stop lying to them, but I didn't want to say yes because then she'd freak out.)

I was settling in for a late night at work that night when my phone rang again and it was my mom. She said they were heading out to dinner, but that she needed help with something. She couldn't eat, she said, because her stomach was in knots wondering what it was I wanted to talk about, and that she needed to talk about it now. I told her no, that we could talk about it on Sunday. She said she couldn't do that, and to please tell her. So I said "Well, you can come over."

"Coming over" to my place from theirs is no easy task, so at that point they knew it was important or I wouldn't have insisted on doing it in person. They got in the car while I asked my boss if I could leave. I then ran to Whole Foods to grab dinner, flowers and wine ($60!! That market is NUTS!)

I got home in just enough time to set the table, straighten up the apartment and put on the t-shirt Adam gave me for the coming-out night.

When they arrived we made small talk for a while while I heated up the food, and for a while after we started eating. They asked if I'd brought any work home, and I said "No, because I figured we'd be talking and I'd have no chance to do it." Silence.....and my mom said "Ok, we're ready. Are you ready?"

I looked up at them and said, "Ummm, no, I was going to be ready on Sunday!" They laughed, which broke some tension. Then I said, "Well, you're here because I love you, and because it is important to me to have you be a part of every part of my life." And then I paused, realizing this was lame to preface it so much. So I smiled a little and said "I'm gay."

I was sitting on one side of the dining table in my apartment and they were both on the other, my mom to my right and my dad to my left. My dad's immediate reaction was to smile (a little painfully, maybe, but genuine) and say "I love you" and stood up and came over and gave me a hug.

My mom didn't flinch. She just started tearing up and in what seemed like a somewhat accusatory way said "When did you decide that." I considered correcting her on the implication that I "decided" anything, but decided she probably didn't mean it like that and I should give her the benefit of the doubt. She's not always the most articulate person, so she probably just couldn't find the right word.

I told her that I had always sort of known since I was VERY little, but that I had always just assumed it was some weird thing on the side since I'd also been very attracted to girls on occasion. It wasn't until October of this last year that it occurred to me that I ought to look into whether I was actually gay. (You all realize that was a euphemism for "I decided to start hooking up with guys to see if I liked it.") And then I said it was in February that I decided I was in fact gay and that I wanted to tell them, and that it had just been a matter of time until I was ready.

For a while, the conversation proceeded with them just asking a ton of questions and me trying to provide answers. My goal was to be totally honest, even if that hurt them sometimes. So I did talk about some of the things that have been really hard for me over the years, like my irrational fear of the police. For many years my heart skipped a beat when I saw the police because I feared they were coming to get me for some crime that would require me to call my parents and tell them I was gay. Since I was the most law-abiding kid in the world I have no idea what crime I was worried about (other than the vague "sin of being gay") but, like I said, it was irrational. Admitting to that was the first time I started tearing up and had to stop.

Eventually we moved to the living room. They sat on the couch and I pulled the comfy chair around in front of them. My mom and I were both drinking my favorite wine, so that was good. None of us really ate our food.

At that point, I said that most of what I really wanted to say had come out already, but that I had a list of things I wanted to be sure to get out during our first talk. Since I hadn't had time to prepare it (the plan was to do it Saturday) I had done it while madly driving home (and almost crashed the car as a result). So at that point we talked for the first time about, or reiterated, the following:

I love you. (They knew that, and were adamant that they love me no less. My dad couldn't even refrain from insisting that I'm still their favorite child.)

It is important to me to have you a big part of my life, and it has pained me not to be able to share what has been going on with me. (They seemed to appreciate that, and to be eager to hear it.)

I would be surprised if you didn't already know. (They both suspected it. My mom in particular always wondered whether my depression stemmed from some much deeper struggle than self-esteem. My sisters have always assumed I was gay and had mentioned it to my parents (but never to me, thankfully, because I would have died). So my parents had at least considered the possibility.)

It is normal to have unexpected reactions, and you need not hide that from me. You probably have a script in your head of what a loving, progressive, supportive parent should do in this situation. But if you feel like crying or banging your head against a wall, that's ok.

I've had time to think about this and come to terms with it. You haven't. So I can serve as your local expert in what it means to be gay, and you should feel free to use me as such.

One important reason I wanted to do this, other than living honestly, was to have you as a part of my decision making processes. It has always been important to me to have you help me mull over even the most inconsequential decisions. And now I want you to be a part of helping me decide what it's going to mean for me to be gay, to get married, to have kids etc. Should I adopt or go surrogate? Those are the kind of things I've been thinking about, and I want your help. (They seemed to appreciate that. I think they will eventually be eager to talk about all that.)

I think you would benefit from seeing a counselor/therapist, or at least talking to somebody outside the family about it. Also, there is an organization called PFLAG (and I described it a little as a support and advocacy group). (They seemed incredulous that they'd ever want to be activists for gay rights (but they may get there) and didn't feel like they needed a therapist. (My mom will).)

Yes, I'm sure I'm gay. Some parents hold out hope that it's a phase or their child is wrong, and that gets in the way of their healing. So I wanted to spare you that stage of doubt. (They understood this. It seemed hard to take, but I tihnk they appreciated me saying it.)

I don't have AIDS. There are a lot of stereotypes that you probably have, and I do too. And it's taking me time to get over them, and it will take you time too. But I can assure you I'm not just bursting to go put on a dress or a feather boa. I'm not intentionally holding my wrists firm. This is just who I am, and that's not going to change. I am the same person I was an hour ago, but now you know more about me. Interestingly, we then had a tangent about the Pride parade and how there were so many different types of people there, and that some would have bothered me until very recently. I would have wondered "why do they have to be so flamboyant? What's their deal?" My dad expressed similar feelings (in a very progressive intellectual way, not out of disgust) and I found myself defending flamboyance as a psychological need to say "even if I'm way out there, it's ok. There's nothing wrong with me being an uber-gay." And they understood that.

Many parents go through what looks like grief over the loss of a loved one. You seem fine with it now and you insist you're ok, but don't be surprised if you start feeling denial, anger, sadness or whatever. And it might not go in order, and you might regress. So just be ready for that, and know that I expect it and don't blame you for it and won't think you're not supporting me. It is a loss. You've lost an idea of me, an expectation of what our lives would look like. And that takes time to get over. (They insisted that wouldn't be a problem because they had both had gay people in their family and had long ago come to terms with it. But even during that first conversation my mom was having trouble with the concept of ME as gay. She pretty much cried the whole time, and when she went to the bathroom all my dad and I needed was a shared look for me to express "she's not taking this nearly as well as you. You need to make sure she's taking her anti-depressants and that she sees a therapist. You need to watch her.")

There is no good timing for this, but I wanted to wait until after the wedding but before your cruise. I initially thought it would be horrible to do it on Father's Day (they laughed) but I hope you see the spirit in which this is done. I want it to be a gift. I want you to be a closer part of my life. (They liked that.)

You did nothing wrong. You didn't raise me wrong. This is just who I am. (They then joked that they never should have let my older sister dress me up like a girl when I was a toddler. That's what did it. I assured them it wasn't. They also then realized that this is probably why I hated and was SO cruel to my younger sister for the first 12 or so years of her life. They (and my child therapist) thought it was that I was no longer the cute baby when she was born and I resented that. I think the real reason is that I wanted her to be a boy. I resented that I missed my last chance to have a brother that would play football and wrestle and compete with me and keep me from turning gay. Of course that's not why I'm gay. But I think we'll have a lot more to talk about in that vein later. It explains a lot.)

You will now face your own coming out process. You will have to decide who to tell and when. This has effects on you too. (They both agreed immediately that I should tell my sisters, but not the older one until she gets back from her honeymoon. They also both felt, interestingly, that while my grandmother would take it totally in stride, I shouldn't burden her with it until I had found somebody to love and wanted to introduce him to her. She would be a part of that celebration, so that's when she should find out. I'm comfortable with that for now. It's no big deal. She knows nothing about my love life anyway. They both wanted time to think about which of their friends they wanted to know. My dad seems rather eager to share it with his family. My mom seems reluctant to tell anyone right now. I'll explain more why in a later post. But I'm going to take it at their speed. As soon as my sisters know, I don't really care what else happens, for now.)

I am happier now than I have EVER been before. A huge weight is lifted. I can now live honestly. I have no worries. I can be myself. (There ensued a long digression about my mental health and how hard it has been for me for 20 years to hide this. At some point I admitted that for the last 15 years or so, I had fallen asleep a few nights a week thinking about how to kill myself. That was the second and final time I cried, while trying to say that. As soon as I started crying my mom got up and (for the first time) hugged me and held me as I was crying and trying to get those words out. Understandably, that hit them hard. My dad then got up and embraced me too, and they just held me for a while. Of the whole night, that was the hardest thing for them. They're ok with me being gay, but it hurts them to think that their "happy child", the one for whom everything always seemed perfect, was actually struggling so deeply and they didn't know and couldn't do anything about it. They couldn't understand how I could feel that way, since I knew (and I did) that they would still love me. Again, I told them, it's totally irrational, and I never actually REALLY thought about doing it. But the good news is that I don't have those thoughts any more AT ALL since I decided to tell them.)

No question is stupid. I've had a lot of time to study and think about it. You understandably don't know a whole lot about it. (That's when I gave them the 6 books I'd bought for them. As expected, my dad was eager to read them and my mom asked if she really had to. I told her that she doesn't have to do anything, but that I thought it would be really helpful for her. They have some good things in them.)

I then asked how much they want to know. (Previously, they'd said they wanted to know as much as if I were straight. If I had new friends, they wanted to meet them. If I was dating somebody, they wanted to meet him. They said that as a general rule, nothing should change. They probably don't want all the gory details, but they want to be a part of my life. So I told them about Adam coming to live with me, and they were a little surprised (and I think they both had to consciously restrain themselves from cringing or raising their eyebrows) but seem eager to meet him. In fact, they were genuinely upset that he's coming on the 27th and they leave for their cruise so soon after. They were trying to figure out logistically how they can get to meet him before they go. That made me feel SO good, because they weren't acting. They really do want to be a part of all this. I told them about how Craigslist works to meet people, and that that's how I met Adam. I told them about the little stuffed-animal bacteria Adam gave me, and they thought that was sweet. I told them all about the blog. My mom didn't understand what I was saying as a technological matter. She was like "so, it's like you write an email to all these people? How do they know to go look at it? How do they even know it's there? That was a fun conversation. My dad was pretty excited about it. He was like "well, we knew you'd be famous for writing something, but we didn't think it'd be this!)

So, as you can tell, it went AMAZINGLY well. My dad took it better than my mom, though I do fear that (as he does) he is suppressing his feelings in an unhealthy way. Surely a father has to react with some emotion (other than love and support) when his son tells him he's gay. But he didn't. That worries me a little. My mom, while I believe her overriding concern is my well-being, is taking it a little harder. I will talk more about that later.

They expressed a few concerns, the content of which surprised me a little. They were concerned with the promiscuity stereotype, and wanted to be sure that I was safe. My great uncle died of AIDS because he'd been unfaithful to his 20-year life partner. So, while they recognize that being gay doesn't necessarily make me promiscuous, they wanted to make sure.

They were also concerned with my physical safety. They fear that I will go somewhere and be beat up or worse. My mom actually said "I don't want you going to gay clubs." Interesting! We'll work through that.

They are also concerned (as if I am a little kid) that my friends will be mean to me, and as parents they don't like that. Since I have invested so much in my Christian community lately, they fear I will lose those people. I might. We'll see. As far as my Christian friends at my current school go, I won't consider it too much of a loss, for reasons I'll explain some other time.

The themes they kept repeating were that (1) they love me no less, (2) they are sad not because I'm gay but because I suffered alone for so long, (3) that they simply can't believe it's a sin, and they hope I don't believe that, and that they're so glad I'm not going overboard with the born-again-Christian schtick anymore in an effort to heal myself, (4) that they understand it's biological and that they couldn't force me to be heterosexual any more than I could force them to be homosexual, and that (5) while it's the cliche, scripted response for them to say "we love you and we're ok with this," it is nonetheless true, and they hope I believe it.

So, that was that! As they were leaving, they said "So, does this mean we're not invited to dinner on Sunday anymore?" Hahahaha! I think they're taking it well if they can joke. I know they love me, and that it will be a much stronger relationship. I am SO happy I did this. I felt a huge weight lift off me. It was definitely anti-climactic, but that's a good thing.

I love my parents very much, and I am thrilled that they are now a part of my real life!