The fallout

This afternoon Mum and I had a talk about some important issues, about things that needed clarification on her part and things that needed to be said on mine. It wasn't a linear conversation like the one on Sunday night--we went off on tangents and were met with a few circles--so while I remember what was said, I don't so much remember the exact words.

On Monday night, while I was packing my bag for the next morning, she called out to me: "Are you glad you told us?"--"Fuck yes!"--I forget what she said next, which was, ironically, the most important part. She said something about feeling sad for me. She feels sad for the pain, anguish and depression that I felt growing up, sad that her own son was depressed enough to seriously consider ending his own life. It killed me that I had made her sad.

I initiated the conversation this afternoon because I needed to make it clear to her that I'm over it. I'm over the confusion, depression and angst of my teenage years. I needed to make sure she knew that I am not in any inner-turmoil anymore; I am happy.

In all the online how to come out to your parents guides I've read, they all say that the parent/child roles get reversed. I never realise the extent to which this would be true until this afternoon. I asked her: "When you said you felt sad for me being depressed and confused as a teenager, was it for the simple fact that I felt that way? Or was it because you didn't know and therefore couldn't help?"
"Both," she answered, "but I'm also sad for the future."
"Ok," I said, "well the reason I ask is that I wanted to tell you that I'm over it. I mean yes, it was difficult and unpleasant, but I've worked it out, accepted it, and I'm happy now. So if you're blaming yourself for not knowing and therefore not helping, please don't. I'm ok. I'm happy. I wanted to tell you that. So feel sad, but not forever. I know that this is all new to you, but for me it was years ago and I'm over it, so there's nothing to be sad about anymore".

I asked her to clarify "sad about the future". She talked about how hard life is being gay and the fact that she always envisioned me getting married and having children. I told her that it's like a death in a way--the idea of me that had has suddenly died and it will take time to grieve.

She said she kept asking herself how she could have not known. She genuinely had no idea. I said that sometimes people are just too close, to which she answered "well your father worked it out". I said "well, he had the odd inkling, that's not the same as 'working it out'", but she looked unconvinced. I think she feels betrayed. Betrayed by me for not coming out sooner, betrayed at Dad for not saying anything about his suspicions, betrayed at the universe for giving her a gay son.

She said that she doesn't know a single gay person. "If statistics are correct, and it's one in ten, then why don't I know any?" I said that you might know someone, you never know. She also said that she's been more aware of the mention of homosexuality since Sunday. A group of girls in her class were rating guys in a magazine, saying things like "he's hot; he's gorgeous; nah not him, he's gay". I told her how much that annoys me and about the SMS I sent to Mx.

The mention of the one in ten statistic led into the natural/unnatural and normal/abnormal concept. I explained that many people confuse the terms "normal" with "the norm". I explained that "the norm" refers to the average, to the majority--"right-handedness is the norm"--but that doesn't mean that the exception to the norm is not normal. There is a lot of evidence of monogamous homosexual coupling in many animal species (I read an article on it last year some time). I explained that the word homosexuality didn't exist until the 18th century; before that it a non-issue. Same-sex marriage was practiced in medieval Europe (which I read somewhere, but I forget where, so I was glad when she didn't ask for any proof).

Somehow the issue of The Plan came up. I told her that a lot of time and energy went into that plan and that Liz was pestering me every few days for weeks before it happened. This led to how hard it was to actually come out to them and, in turn, to the fact that although I didn't know what to expect, I did know what not to expect. I wanted to make it clear, at a time when her perceptions of what I am are totally shattered, that I never doubted that she and Dad would be anything less than loving and supportive of me, regardless of whether they supported me being gay. I tried to steer clear of the word "acceptance"; I know it's way too early for acceptance. But she is trying so hard, I can see that, and that is half the battle won.

It's becoming increasing clear she has a long long road ahead of her on the path to "acceptance" and I didn't want her to feel she'd failed me any more than she has (not that I think she has failed me at all, but I have the feeling she feels she has failed me); I didn't want to sit there expectantly waiting for acceptance and have her feel pressure from me to do something she just can't do. She's still getting her head around such a huge, complicated concept.
"So you're pretty much set on the idea that this is it [being gay]?" she asked.
"There's no 'pretty much', Mum," I said, "this is it. I'm gay."
"But how do you know if you've never had a girlfriend? You could be attracted to men but it's just physical. You might fall in love with a girl. How do you know there isn't the right girl out there for you?"
"I just do, Mum."
"Did you ever been had crushes on boys at school?"
I told her I had had a crush on John at uni, trying to steer the conversation away from school because talking about the crush in high school is way too embarrassing.
"Ok Mum, it's like this. When you were my age, you had a dream of meeting Mr Right, didn't you?"
"Yes..."
"And did you think at the back of your mind 'maybe there's a woman out there for me?' You hadn't had a girlfriend either, so how did you know you couldn't love a girl?"
"Yes but..."
"It's the same for me."

I'm hoping that this chat, which was totally uncomfortable for me by the way, has started to chip away at her misconceptions and to solidify and rebuild her damaged sense of self-worth as a mother.

I'm hoping she'll start to see that being gay isn't good or bad. It just is.