05 March 2007

Mission: Aborted

So that weekend did not go at all how I was thinking it would. It was very good in some regards, and very painful in others. I made one mistake early on, and it sort of sent all my plans (for coming out to my parents) into a death spin.

They picked me up from the airport on Friday night. The whole plane ride up to Utah, I was thinking that maybe I would tell them on the ride, but then I kind of talked myself out of it. I decided that I didn't want a whole weekend of weirdness, so I decided to wait and talk to them on Sunday night. That way, we could talk about it, and then they would have time to stew over it themselves. And not just that, I was not planning on telling any of my siblings just yet, but knowing how my parents (i.e. mother) would react to the news I knew that it had the potential to turn into a really bad weekend with her trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. I knew that wouldn't work, so I felt that the Sunday night chat would work the best for everyone involved. That would have given them a few days without any of my siblings around so that they could peacefully, prayerfully, and undistractedly (hey! I invented another word) come to terms with it themselves.

Sounds like a good idea, right? That's what I thought.

I was very anxious Friday night, all day Saturday, and all day Sunday. I was starting to look forward to talking to them. As hard as it was going to be, it was going to be nice when it was over. Finally! A load off my shoulders! But, that's not what happened. You see, in the past I have never noticed how much everyone makes derrogatory gay remarks. Hell, I've been right in the middle of it all in the past - I guess that was part of my personal denial of the whole situation. But, now that I've come to terms with the fact that this is not some virus or bacterial infection, it's actually part of my double-helix, I've become a little more sensitive to stuff like that. Sure, the jokes are funny. I can take a joke. But each one of them is like a tiny pinprick in your back. Eventually all of those little pins build into an overall painful effect. I never realized before how intolerant my family was of gay people.

And they shouldn't be. My cousin is out of the closet and living up in SLC with his boyfriend. The family should be kind and supportive of him as a person, as a child of God, even if they don't agree with the decisions he has made with his life. They also have a neighbor down the street who have a son that is out of the closet and, supposedly, married (in another state). My younger brothers grew up with those guys. They are best friends with his straight brothers. Why are they so demeaning towards him?

The comment that hurt the most was when they were talking about said neighbors (the wife in particular) and what a tragic life she has because of "having to cope with the great disappointment in her life". They were specifically referring to the gay son. That hurt. That cut me to the very center of my being. What about me? I've always been praised for being the great example of the family. The oldest son. I'm the one who put myself through college. I'm the one who put myself through grad school. I'm the one who got a high-paying, high-tech job. I'm the one who began investing in real estate. I'm the one who always stayed faithful and served a mission without hestitation. I'm the one who helps his siblings out whenever they need it. I'm the one who has stayed active in the church, in spite of being 34 and single. I'm the peacemaker. I'm the one who has always done good things and NEVER strayed from the straight and narrow path. Now all of the sudden I will be labeled a "great disappointment" to my family because of feelings that I have no choice over?

That floored me. I couldn't take it. And worst of all, my family lost my trust. I've been thinking all day of the terrible things I could write in an email and send it to all of them. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I'm still a little numb from the whole experience.

It was supposed to be a great weekend. We blessed my brother's newborn baby. We were celebrating being a family, and being a family for eternity. Now I don't know if I want them.

I need a hug and a good cry right now.

3 comments:

Kengo Biddles said...

Well, *hugz* to you! I wish I was off work earlier and I'd give you a good hug (if I was nearby) and then listen to you go through your laundry and frustration and annoyance at your family. (which I could do, having a cellphone, and all.)

I'm so sorry that it's been so rough! You don't have to "approve" this comment, but know that you have friends who are thinking good thoughts at you, and offering prayers for you, as well.

Le Mec said...

*e-hug to you*

I'm so sorry. Perhaps now is not the time for them. I know in the case of my dad (who calls gay people scumbags and maggots) I am just trying to increase my love for him and build a stronger relationship with him, something that may or may not lead me to tell him. It's most hurtful when we feel we can't express our feelings to those who should love us unconditionally, but perhaps if they knew that would cause a huge paradigm shift for them and they would be more understanding than you think. I'm so sorry you are hurting, hope things work out better.

Loyalist (with defects) said...

I am sorry to hear of your experience. Like the many others here, I send you my ehug and prayers.