peek-a-boo.
“Mom…dad…I want to talk to you about something. No, you’d better sit down. You know, I’ve been trying to think of how I can tell you this, and I hope you don’t get mad…but…I think, I’m straight…”
There are a variety of conversations that, I can say with a certain degree of confidence, are not happening anywhere on this big globe right now. Among them is that little gem – when have you ever heard of a heterosexual needing to ‘come out’, or ‘confirm’ to their parents, their suspicions of their child’s heterosexuality?
Gay men and women have been trained by society into thinking that this is the norm – the big, dramatic revelation of ones’ sexuality to their friends and family. However, I have never been as receptive to this idea as the majority of my queer colleagues. At no point did I sit either of my parents down, and verbally told them that I was gay. I did my thing, I was who I was, I hung a pride flag on my wall and fiercely debated the pro side to any gay issues in the news, and I figured that eventually, they would catch on. And they did.
This confused my father. He was uncertain of how to approach my position on my orientation, and in fact, interpreted my lack of a formal announcement as fear or doubt as to how I would break the news to him. He took it personally, like I had singled him out as the only one to not receive the invitation to the show. Sorry, dad, you didn’t RSVP to the big performance. Maybe your next child!
I guess my gripe with the whole set-up, is that by doing it the way us gays have done it for decades – the big reveal – leaves your homosexuality up to someone else’s approval or disapproval. It allows people, whomever they may be, the opportunity to reject who you are as an individual, or to belittle you for something you can’t help. As I’ve discussed previously, there are still a large number of people out there who don’t understand the gay lifestyle – and therefore, our ‘choice’ could be frowned upon, or in extreme cases, we could be encouraged to return to the church for spiritual guidance, or call the toll-free number to some doctor in Singapore your grandpa saw on 100 Huntley Street who can alter brain cells and change molecules to make you into a llama, but at least being a llama is better than being a queer, right?
As much as we appreciate your concern, us gays don’t need you to save our immortal souls. We don’t need you to tell us all the things that are wrong with being gay, or the dangers associated with it, the social stigmas, etc. You can spare us the joy of sharing all that with us as we’ve more than likely heard it all before. At the end of the day, we are still going to be gay, no matter how you react or what you put us through.
If I were a person of higher standing, I would be calling for an outright boycott of the conventional ‘coming out’ process. What are we ‘coming out’ of? The closet (how cliché)? Our society-approved shells? God’s hand-picked Heavenly Class of 2057? There is nothing about being gay that forces you to reveal anything about your personal life than if you were straight. Nobody gets the chance to challenge or frown upon anyone for their ‘decision’ to be straight. It isn’t like buying a new car or something else that you have to think long and hard about before you reach a verdict.
Even still, there are those who feel it to be a necessary step – almost like they aren’t ‘officially’ gay until completed. And in their defense, in certain and very few circumstances, a detailed breakdown of being gay is a courteous gesture to avoid a different kind of breakdown. We’ve all heard stories of tears being shed in mourning over the loss of unborn grandchildren, lamps or knives being thrown, granny taking a fatal heart attack – none of these the reactions we seek, but occasionally, receive. We come out in peace, scout’s honour. Perhaps it works for some people, but for me, it was a route to personal liberation that I had absolutely no desire to explore.
I divorced the notion of being straight before it ever even entered my orbit – except, I made my transition behind a door that was closed, went in a caterpillar and emerged a fully transformed, gay butterfly. It wasn’t up for discussion. When a kitten is born, you don’t frown on it for being the wrong colour.
Don’t ever let anybody degrade you for being multi-coloured. Be proud of who you are, let the world know in whatever fashion you choose, but don’t ever for a second doubt yourself, or allow others to have input on who you are as an individual.
But, select a method that is reflective of who you are, the least stressful, and most comfortable for you. Ultimately, you only get one chance – once you become that butterfly, there ain’t no crawlin’ back into the cocoon.
Great post dude. Now that I’ve come out to a family member, I must say that as cliche as it sounds, it really did feel like a giant weight was lifted off my chest. I feel as if I can go around and tell the rest of my immediate family as they’re the only ones that NEED to know… the rest, as you say, can figure it out for themselves.
Keep up the great work.