Date: Sat, 15 Jun 1996 09:07:57 -0700
From: Hugh
To: pflag-talk@vector.casti.com
Subject: Re: One down, one to go (long response, sorry)
Sender: owner-pflag-talk@vector.casti.com
Dan: I experienced such deja vu reading your letter. Your parents sound so much like mine. I've been following your story with interest. I will celebrate my fourth birthday this fall -- four years since coming out to myself. It's been just over three years now that my parents have known.
I told my mother, father and sister all in the same sitting . . . three days before the March on Washington in 93. My sister was surprised, my parents weren't. It's been an interesting trip, getting to where we are today.
My sister has had no problems since the first. She's been very supportive and outspoken (to my father) about her support. My parents, at first, didn't want me to tell anyone else in the family or any friends in the community. (Note: I had moved from Connecticut to California five months before coming out to my family.) They felt that since I didn't live in the same state/community as they did any longer, I wouldn't have to deal with whatever consequences arose from my telling family and friends back east.
After some reflection, I realized they needed some time to deal with the news, just as I had needed nine years to come to terms with my sexuality. So, I granted them an indefinite, but temporary, reprieve. My mother began to come around and told some of her closest friends, heard coming out stories from them and began to collect strength from the fact that we weren't alone. To this day, she is amazed at the number of people she knows who also have g/l family members. Mom swears that every time the subject comes up, the person she's talking to has a corresponding story to hers.
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. My father showed no such progress. He continued to maintain that there was no reason to tell the family, which is headed up my my only remaining grandparent, his mother. Dad continued to assert that Grandma had no need to know this information.
Bear in mind, too, that I am the oldest son of the oldest son in an Irish Catholic patriarchal family . . . And I bear the hereditary name of that position (meaning my father, my grandfather, my great grandfather and I all share the same name). Last winter (early 95) my sister told me in confidence that she and her then-boyfriend were talking marriage. She expected a proposal by the end of that summer. And she and her fiance expected my husband to attend the wedding with me. However, my parents didn't know this yet. They wouldn't find this out until the ring was on the finger, six months later.
This was the impetus I needed. If Brian and I were going to attend my sister's Irish Catholic wedding together, I needed to come out to the rest of the family soon, so they would all have time to adjust to the notion as well. Besides, I wanted to bring Brian home to meet them at some point well before the wedding. Call me crazy, but I just didn't feel that sweeping into my sister's wedding with a man on my arm was the right way to make the announcement! (Not that the drama queen in me hadn't considered this alternative with a certain amount of glee! Before realizing that this would only mar my sister's very special day . . .)
So, I went back to Connecticut last spring. Told my father he'd had two years to ponder the matter and informed him that while I appreciated his concerns, that my failure to come out to my grandmother -- with whom I have always been close -- was having an undesirable effect on my relationship with her. I no longer felt comfortable calling her, since I knew I could expect the third degree about dating and marriage. So, basically, I told my father that he had no right to affect my relationship with my grandmother, and that I was going to tell her. The story of grandma is another one, but suffice it to say that her reaction was generally positive and supportive, as long as I was happy.
Once Grandma knew, she began to circulate the information around the family, making it clear that she essentially approved, because I was happy. One by one, my father heard from his three brothers and one sister. To a sibling, and very much to my surprise, he received unqualified support from them all. Even the two uncles my mother and I were *sure* were going to make a lot of noise about this. Turns out they both have close friends who are gay . . . My mother wants to know how come we've never heard of them before? And the stories come in from the outer reaches of the family, too, of other cousins and in-laws of cousins who are gay. This is a source of constant amusement for my mother. Pisses her off a little, too. How come *her* son had to be the one to open up the conversation on this issue? Why couldn't one of these others have been open earlier, making it easier for her son? I just shake my head and tell Mom that it doesn't matter who brings the issue into the open, just that it is out of the closet now in our family . . .
So, two weeks ago, over Memorial Day, Brian and I went back to Connecticut to visit the family. We spend a week in town, most of it with my parents, sister and brother-in-law to be. Brian had met my parents two years ago when they visited us in San Diego. We had just moved in together. That meeting was a bit on the disastrous side. Dad was awkwardly uncomfortable, Brian was intimidated (my father can be *very* intimidating without even trying), and Mom and I were running interference . . .
This time, Brian and Dad were working in the yard, doing repair work together. At one point, they disappeared for two hours . . . they had gone hardware shopping and had lunch together. Never told Mom and me where they were going! I never really got into all that "manly-man" stuff with my father, so I guess maybe he realized that Brian could be the son he never had!
As for the rest of the family . . . Brian met Grandma one-on-one when I brought him to her house to visit. Then, on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, my mother held a picnic for the family at which Brian met the aunts, uncles and most of the cousins. We had a great time. We had not one adverse reaction. Everyone was friendly upon meeting Brian and while some were clearly not comfortable enough to remain engaged in conversation with us or with Brian alone for any length of time, others had no such problems. Grandma loves him, thinks he's great and can tell that he makes me very happy. And, he's 100% Scottish! (Marrying within the Celtic tradition is very important to my grandmother . . . it took my mother years, YEARS, and this is no joke, to get past my grandmother's disappointment that her oldest son had not married an Irish girl . . . . and people wonder why I was afraid to come out?)
So, anyway, I hope this gives you some idea of what can happen. I once sat in the very same position you sit now. Wondering what was to become of my relationship with my parents and family . . . Now looking forward to going to my sister's wedding in October with my husband by my side at the wedding and in all the family photos . . . Now the only question is how they'll react to us dancing together . . . . ;)
I'm going to leave you with my favorite quote from Anais Nin. This is usually in my sig file, but I'm using AOL from the road and so have no sig file. I bought a beautiful watercolor greeting card with this quote on it and it now hangs framed in our living room:
". . . And then the day came when the risk it took to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." --A. Nin.
Keep it up. You're on the right path. You're doing it on your terms and at your own pace. Let us know what we can do to support you. And if you're ever in San Diego (since you live somewhere in CA), drop a note and we'll have coffee and "tawk".
Take care,
Hugh
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