Commentary: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell: Family Style
I love my family. I love them dearly. However, whenever I know I am going to be around them for an extended period of time (more than two hours at a time), I get a bundle of knots in my stomach, and the only way to cure the discomfort is usually to dig out some floral patterned shirts, hide my knee length, long-zippered shorts in the back of my closet, and throw out any gay newspapers I might have laying around my house. It’s not that my family doesn’t know that I’m gay, but it’s just such an unspoken and avoided topic that I’d rather ignore it than try to deal with it. Recently, though, the silence and unasked questions have been wearing on me pretty bad. It’s not so much an issue because I’m ever dying to tell my mom or dad about any recent snatch I’ve gotten or about some hot babe I gawked at on the metro, but more so just because it’s pretty damn irritating that no one in my family ever asks me any questions regarding the status of my love life, whether it’s happening or not.
I remember during college, after I had my first girlfriend and before I had told my family about my gayness (and even after I had), not calling home for weeks at a time whenever a girl issue was bothering me. Thinking of excuses for my morose tone and unenthusiastic attitude towards life was too much of a chore, and blurting out that another confused straight girl was playing the fiddle with my heart was not an option. Most vividly, I remember spending approximately one whole week after I found out that my first “girlfriend” had been madly in love with another girl the whole time we had been together, curled up in a sobbing ball on my dorm room couch, blasting Cat Power’s You Are Free, and, more than anything, wanting to call my mom and tell her how horrible I felt. Like any heartbroken young fool, I wanted my mom to assure me that my thrashed up heart would, in fact, heal and that we all go through such romantic woes before we learn the tricks of the relationship trade.
It was only months later, when my heart had healed and I had moved on, that I decided to open up to my family about my romantic inclinations. It was a pretty awkward situation, prompted mostly by my older sister going on about some guy she had maybe exchanged glances with twice and me thinking, “Fuck this, how dare my family give a shit about this guy and not even know that I love this girl who I hardly have the balls to reference by name around them.” Moments before I told my family (mid-reaching into the fridge to get the cheese because we were in the kitchen making sandwiches), I remember my sister looking at me and asking, “Stephanie, are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.” I’m pretty sure I still get that same sick look every time I contemplate saying something gay to one of my family members, whether I’m talking to them in person or over the phone; and every time, the sick feeling wins, and I end up asking about the status of my aging dog or how my brother’s last geometry test went.
Still, though, I get annoyed when my mom talks to me about my sister’s relationship, and I hate this because I know that the annoyance spawns mostly from jealousy. I’m jealous that my mom acknowledges my sister as a sexual being with the ability to care romantically for another human; in fact, I’m jealous that my mom recognizes that my sister cares about things other than work, exercising, Hillary Clinton, and Target deals. (It’s similar to, but not the same as, the jealousy I feel whenever my sister comments about how hot she thinks Johnny Depp is in front of my parents; I’ve forever wanted to tell my family how hot I think Sandra Bullock is, but I’ve never had the guts.)
At this point, though, I am beginning to wonder who is to blame. Is it really my family? Or is it me? Is it my problem that I don’t have the balls to tell my family I need to get off the phone because I want to watch the L Word; or that I’m still unsure and nervous about how out I want to be at work; or that I sound glum, not because Trader Joe’s was out of frozen brown rice or because the metro took a long time, but because I like a girl and I don’t know what to do about it. Would it really be as big of a deal as I think it would if I just said these things to my family? Would they really fall out of their chairs if I told them I was watching Miss Congeniality for the twentieth time, not for its plot and corny jokes, but just to ogle Sandra Bullock? Who knows, but my sister is coming to DC this weekend, so maybe I should try to find out.
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i think you should take your sister out for the gayest, funnest weekend she’s ever had. then she’ll go home and say how cool you and dc are and that will open the doors. they can’t know how to treat you unless you teach them because they’ve never had a lesbo daughter.
Don’t be so rough on yourself. It’s incredibly hard to keep exposing yourself to possibly being hurt, especially when you’ve already been singed a few times by their silence. Your family may not know how much this hurts you. Also, you don’t know how your mom may feel about not having those conversations about love interests/heartbreaks with you. It’s possible she and your other family members are just as torn as you are.
If you’re not happy with how things are, I say go for it; if they were going to disown you, they would have already done it. I know it got easier with my family the more I talked about girls, but it was never as effortless as when I talked about guys. But even that was better for me than nothing.
Good luck, whatever you decide to do.
i agree with SZM. your family is looking to you on how to approach your gayness for lack of a better term. in theory, they could step up to the plate, but in reality, they seek your guidance.
my sexuality was a mute topic with my family after I came out. my family became more open after I talked about boyfriend stuff and gay culture things (e.g., movies and shows).
in an idealistic world, this should never be an issue kind of be as you are. but that will never work in real world, plus what is the fun in the that. conquering this challenge will make your relationship with your family stronger.
~ Totally Feel You Bugger
There’s a possibility here that you’re not asked about your love life because youre family doesnt want to offend you or make a big deal of you being gay. A lot of time, silence can just be them figuring out what is and is not OK to ask you about. You might need to train them bringing it up in increments, so that your family knows that its not an off subject topic, but also that there are boundaries.
I mention the boundaries because my sister thinks its ok to ask me millions of questions about the top/bottom dynamic in gay relationships. I appreciate that she can talk to me about my sexuality, but I dont enjoy actually talking about my sex.
I, too, feel compelled to “straighten up” my dwelling (ha!) when my family comes a-calling.
We’ve always avoided talking about anything even remotely related to sexuality, gay or straight, so it comes as no surprise to me that the issue of my queerness is frequently skirted. I find it a little amusing, however, that every time I mention a female friend to my dad, I feel the urge to clarify it with a “she’s not my girlfriend.” He, like so many parents of gays, tends to load a lot of meaning into the word “friend.”
Stephanie,
I feel your pain. I’ve been out to my parents for over three years now and all they ever ask me about is my job, my workouts, and my dog. To top it all off, whenever I speak with the ‘rents they tell me all about how much they love and my brother’s girlfriend.
I know my girlfriends wouldn’t have much if any love from my parents. And there are times when I want nothing more than to call them up and tell them all about my girl troubles. But, would I expect them to be supportive? Probably not, and I guess that’s why I never talk about my dating life with them.
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