the second coming (out)–mini 1000 - 02

The first time I prepared to come out to my parents I was 25-years old. I'd been married, divorced and had two small children. It had been over seven years since I'd been financially dependent on them. And most importantly, I had a rare adult relationship with them. I wasn't going to ask for their blessing or permission, I would just be sharing my life with them. They weren't going to get a vote.

Being independent was empowering. It is hard for me to imagine having this discussion with them at 13 or 14. Yet, if they rejected me it would still be very painful. I arrived for our annual winter holiday trip with my two kids in tow. I planned on breaking the news at the end of my weeklong visit...I'm not an idiot, if this went south I didn't need 7 days of conflict.

Debbie and I had been involved since late summer of that year. I was fairly sure that this first relationship with a woman wasn't going to last. But I was also fairly sure that I would continue to see women. My parents had drifted away from Mormonism by then, as had I, but they still held very traditional, conservative views about marriage and children. At the same time, they treated my decisions with respect (or at least, without comment), so that was promising.

I was ready to have this conversation. At some point during the day before we were to leave, the phone rang with terrible news. My godmother, my mom's sister-in-law, was in the hospital ICU. Her über religious second husband had beaten her unconscious and left her in a pool of blood. My mother, of course, ran to the hospital. Needless to say, now was not the time to come out to her. I decided to talk to my father without her and would ask him to wait for me to talk to her after the crisis had abated.

My father and I had a good adult relationship. I didn't see him as my sisters did with the love/hate adoration seen through the eyes of the children they once were. My father could be a real asshole but we had carved out this mutually respectful friendship. His rejection would not shatter me. My mother's rejection, however, would be awful.

I walked into his room, sat down and told him that I was in a relationship with a woman. I never called myself a lesbian or even a homosexual because I'm not. He was quiet and then said the thing that all good parents should say, you are my daughter–I love you no matter what. I knew he didn't approve but I also knew he would be respectful. I asked him not to tell mom, that I would tell her once the trauma of my aunt's situation subsided.

Well, he didn't wait and when I talked to my mom the day after I got home, she let me know that she knew. She was distant but still there. It broke my heart but the coming out was done.

I ended the relationship with Debbie not long after this. It was not pretty. Layered over this experience was the growing concern that my ex-husband's previously open mind about my sexual ambidexterity was unexpectedly closing fast. I decided to go back to dating men. And I did. In spring of that year, I met the Saint at work. I was very attracted to her but skittish about my ex and truthfully, skittish about any possible long term commitment, so I kept my distance romantically. We became good friends. By the fall, I stopped fighting my attraction and we started seeing each other. I, of course, shared this information with my parents, who predictably had hoped the end of my first relationship was also the end of this phase. Sorry, folks.

It took another year for them to agree to meet her and the rest, as they say, is history. My mother's love for my spouse rivals her love for me. And I'm so good with that. For the first few years my father didn't quite know what to do with her. Chuck her on the shoulder or give her a hug? (a hug, Dad, always a hug, you nincompoop), offer to watch football with her (my father hated sports) and/or offer her a beer?, etc. Eventually, he got as comfortable as he got with anyone so she was mostly ignored by him while he did whatever he wanted. She became their fifth daughter.

About twenty-five years later my older sister came out. I like to roll my eyes with a: Puh-lease, I’ve already blazed this trail and broken them in for you! (I’m quite sure it was still not that easy for her.) My parents now were batting 500 on the straight/queer daughter stat and they became exemplary in their acceptance and love for us and our spouses.

All good, right? They added a gay grandson to the mix and soon the family will include my NB youngest, who is not quite out to them at this point.

Then a few years ago, because of a comment I made or perhaps something I had posted on social media, my mom asked me a question. She said, I didn’t know you were bisexual!? Like, she was upset. I said, well, I thought you knew because I’ve never hidden that and I've talked about it openly. She asked if my late father knew, to which I replied, I thought he did but perhaps not? It floored me that having done the work and practice of accepting her (I guess she thought of me as a lesbian) gay daughter, the idea that I could still be attracted to men was very foreign and upsetting to her. How is that for a second coming out? My sweet, traditional mom was completely comfortable with me being with women and unnerved that I might be attracted to men!

Some of this might be due to the stupid ideas people have about bisexuals or more accurately for me, pansexuals. The concept of hypersexuality and fence-sitting are old and outdated. The notion that pansexuals will stray in a relationship because they are attracted to more types of people confuses sexual desire with the choice to be in a committed relationship or not. Which is not about monogamy or polyamory but communication and whatever contract you have with your partner(s).

But some of this is probably due to the way we are overly comfortable putting people in boxes. If you think I am a lesbian and find out otherwise, it may fuck with your sense of order in the universe. The whole coming out process should jostle that process but it doesn’t always broaden acceptance of others-not-like-us. Rather, it can simply add another box or two that we can be plunked down into. A few new categories, same rigid approach to categorization. I think it's time to break down those boxes.