Coming Out: The Parents

"My parents are coming to town over Thanksgiving. I think I'm going to come out to them."

The others sitting at my table looked at me, some with skepticism and some with optimism, as I made this proclamation earlier this week at a sports bar downtown. 

I've come out to most of my friends, and I'm out at work now.  The most important people in the world to me, however, don't yet know that I'm gay. 

I keep thinking my parents must have some idea. 

I haven't brought a girl home since high school.  I avoid conversations about relationships, and hell, I'm not a bad looking guy. 

I imagine that in their eyes, I should've been married a long time ago, like the other guys in my old hometown.  But every time I'm home, they ask me about girls, try to set me up with some of the locals, and talk about my old girlfriends. 

I can't grasp how they don't know yet.   

I sure wish I could give my parents what they'd really like - grandkids.

My parents would be fantastic grandparents. 

They are great nurturers.  They are well-known in my hometown for helping people out . . . I can't count the number of Rotary and Kiwanis awards my mom has been honored with for her service to the community.  My dad is a farmer, and he employs 5-10 poor rednecks every year during planting and harvest seasons - as their employer, he displays more compassion for their well-being than they've ever experienced from their own family members, and many of these lost souls look to my dad as their mentor and friend.

For small town standards, they're probably a little liberal, so that'll make things easier. 

But I've been putting off tell them about my sexuality for two reasons, one, because I'm a big wuss when it comes to talking about it, and two, because I know it's going to be hard for them. 

And I hate to see my parents unhappy. 

My mom is so cute - she's like a little cheerleader, an 55-year-old who looks ten years younger with blond hair and stylish hats. 

My dad's a happy-go-lucky guy who likes golf, beer, and home repairs. 

Neither of them encounter gay people very often. 

My dad's best friend's son is gay, and that kid is quite possibly the most effeminate, angry guy in the state.  They also know of the local, hometown gay guy who runs the radio station and tries to sleep with every married man in town.  Needless to say, it'll be a challenge when they find out.

I haven't reconciled how to handle it yet . . . it'll definitely be a difficult step for me to take . . . but I'm committed to doing it. 

September 5, 2007 UPDATE

Several of the international readers of this blog have asked what happened with me coming out to my parents.  I should've clarified that Thanksgiving is an American holiday that occurs in November. 

So . . . in my unending efforts to put off telling my folks that I'm gay, I've set the date of truth for several months from now, when they come to visit me in the city. 

Right now, it seems like a long time . . . but Thanksgiving weekend is less than 3 months away. 

Yikes. 

My mom and dad called last night, and we talked for almost an hour, despite the fact that I was exhausted from work and had just returned home at 10:00 p.m. from a date with a genuinely nice guy.

My folks didn't ask about my love life at all.

In fact, I've noticed that, in the last year or so, they've asked less and less about my relationships. 

While I was in law school, they asked about it a lot more often. 

Of course, while I was dating Rick, the game warden, I lied to them frequently and told them that I was dating women. 

Then, shortly after Rick and I broke up from our secret, Brokeback Mountain-type relationship, and I went through those difficult few months of depression, I received a phone call from my folks.

I will never forget that night.

It was the first and only time that my parents probably realized that I might've had some mental struggles going on.

I was lying in bed, curled around a long pillow and under the thick blanket in my icy-cool room.

We talked about the usual BS--how successful my law school career was going, how my house was doing, how my sister was doing--and then they asked the question dreaded by all people in singledom, especially those of us who are closeted. 

"Are you dating anyone right now?"

I always hated that question, unless of course I had a girlfriend, which I always did in the old days.

But in the more recent past, I'd responded to that question with cheerful stories of college co-eds who'd hung around with me and my buddies, and occasionally, I'd make up a story about a girl just to satisfy their concern for my social life and to give them something to talk about to the small town gossips back home. 

But this time, my difficult break-up with Rick had just occurred, and I was fighting depression like you wouldn't believe.

I just didn't have the energy. 

I shook my head, stared up at the dark, bare ceiling above my bed, and replied, "No I'm not, mom.  There's no one." 

That comment, darkened further by my dreary, depressed mood, caused an awkward silence on the phone, followed by me saying goodbye rather quickly.

After that call, I noticed that my parents both made the effort to say "I love you" more often at the end of our phone conversations, and, importantly, they stopped asking about my dating life as often.

It does come up now and then, but noticeably less than in the past.

In my conversation with them last night on the phone, I could almost feel their desire to ask me who I'm dating right now.  I don't know how to explain what I felt, but it's like a feeling of impending doom or sorrow that you know you can't put off forever. . . like a train wreck that's bound to happen even if you do everything you can to stop it. 

But as usual, my parents didn't bring anything up about my dating life, and when I felt like it might be a subject of conversation, I quickly cut off the phone call, using the excuse that it was 11 p.m., and I was exhausted.   

I truly feel that my parents would rather have a gay son who's honest about his relationships and talks with them about everything important in his life, especially love, than a "straight" son who appears successful, but lonely and isolated. 

I just hope I have the courage to tell them in November. 

October 28, 2007

The pressure to tell my folks about my sexuality is greater than ever. 

A few weeks ago, my good friend BOB came out to his mother and sister with great results, and this weekend, BOB is introducing his boyfriend to them.

BOB's positive experience may have reinvigorated me, but it didn't do anything to dissuade my anxiety about coming out. 

My folks and my sister will be in Dallas over Thanksgiving.  However, I'll be back home for opening weekend of deer season the weekend before they travel here. 

My friends have recommended that I "have the talk" while I'm visiting them because (1) it'll be on their own turf, and they can escape to a comfortable place if they need to, and (2) they'll have a few days to let things sink in before visiting me.  If I go this route, that means that I have about 20 days until my life takes a dramatic turn.  And as an added pressure, my ex-boyfriend, Rick - the game warden - will be hunting with me that weekend. 

I can totally see myself making up excuses to avoid this inevitable conversation, but I'm more committed than ever to finally getting it over with.

Continued:  Click here. 

Comments

Hey I hope it went well over Thanksgiving . . . I am out to everyone except my parents, but then I'm not close to them so it's not as big of a deal . . .

[Randy]

oops, meant to leave my email

[tristan1973]

you won't truly be a gay man satisfied with his sexuality until u tell them

[Jason]

Hey Urban! I hope everything is well with the coming out situation...

But don't neglect your internet audience, eh? :P Drop us an entry whenever you have time, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's eager to read a new post from you :)

[Synrgy]

Hey Urban... Just checking in on you... See how you're doing... :)

[JR]

Hey man. Was sitting here at the office and I suddenly remembered this post. Wondering if you did it, and how it might have gone if you did...