Meet the Parents
June 5th 2006 07:25
Mum
Lots of people have a coming out story. It’s supposed to be a big momentous moment of passage in your life, when you finally declare your individual identity, daring the scorn and rejection of a cruel world. Well, I wasn’t that dramatic.
In the general run of things I tell my Mum everything. She knew all about Mr. X for instance. But even though I’d known I liked girls for a few years, I put off telling her. I was scared, and it was quite a new feeling for me. Much more novel than say, bisexuality. I always swore that if ever I had a serious relationship with a girl I would tell her. Otherwise it would be a unnecessary risk.
Taffy
Oh, I agonised for weeks. I planned the conversation in my head, thought about all the probable questions, worked through every nuance of everything I could say. And every time I choked. I would wait till we were alone, open my mouth, and nothing would come out. Cowardice! I was appalled at myself. My family isn’t scary or judgemental. I didn’t actually think my Mum would freak and disown me or anything. But even the slim prospect of shock and disappointment kept me silent. And how much scarier must it be for girls in ultra-conservative families, and guys everywhere for whom it seems to be a much bigger issue. I had a sudden flash of sympathy for everyone out there still cosy in their closets.
Finally, on the very last day of holidays before I was due to head back to the city, I blurted it out in the car. And it was fine. No hassles, no hang-ups. She told me that so long as I was happy she would be happy for me, and I decided to live with a girl, or ‘bring one home’ she had no objections.
So there, said and done. But ever after every time I mentioned my relationship with Taffy, I thought I detected a certain reserve in her manner. Maybe I was paranoid, maybe it’s just to be expected. And so when they finally met my nervous tension skyrocketed.
Well it wasn’t too bad. We had lunch. We walked around Newtown. They could bond over a mutual love of Bollywood and aromatherapy. And me. In fact Mum told me she thought Taffy was a ‘lovely vivacious girl’.
But no way am I ever telling my Dad.
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