We sat on opposite couches in our green living room. A nearly empty glass of wine sat near me, a mug of tea near her.
I let the first impressions sink in. She never really asked any detials about my 'relationship' other than sexual ones and where did we meet. That actually kind of hurt, because I was so willing to share the fact that I had been in this relationship and to talk about it openly, but she really never asked. I guess she just doesn't want to know at this point.
Three main topics summed up the converstaion:
1) Dad. He apparently has no idea (or so he has told her), and she doesn't see him taking this well. Not that he doesn't love me, but the "shock will really throw him". We talked a lot about what we would do now, and I realized I put her in a compromised position with him, because they 'tell each other everything'. I said simply that I was more worried about her feelings, not his at the moment, but she kept going back to it.
2) Everyone else. Why would I want the rest of the world to know, when it can only make life more difficult? I explained that it's taken me many, many years to fully realize my sexuality. It's not something that I'm going to ignore anymore, or expect to change or even want to keep a secret. At first she was worried about the rest of the town finding out, but as we talked she realized that we both really don't have anything to do with anyone in particular that my sexuality would be a topic that would adversly effect her/my life.
The rest of our family is another story. I had already decided not to tell my grandparents, and she said before I got the chance to that I shouldn't risk loosing them over this, no matter how comfortable I am. They are not, nor will they be, and they would probably never speak to me again. My uncle and aunt and cousins are another story. We again agreed that they are bigoted, closed minded people who wouldn't deal with it well. After all, I'd be the first one in the family to officially come out, so it wouldn't exactly be good. I emphasized that I really don't care about them, other than the formalities, and my concern was mostly between my parents relationship with them. She realized that they would blame her for bringing me up wrong, "But they blame me for everything, so that doesn't matter."
3)Safety. According to her, the mothering instincts were causing most of her reservations about my sexuality. She worried about me and our family, my safety in the rest of the world, safe sex and HIV...she's got so many stereotypes in her mind from reading so many commonplace magazines that she was asking questions as if I was a circuit boy. I assured her that I've been safe and drew the conclusion of safety as I did here (with help from some comments, so thanks guys). I explained that the risk is the same, if you're sleeping with the same person who's not honest with you 100 times, or you sleep with 100 guys randomly. It's not a justification to be the least bit unsafe, or an endorsment that random sex is risk-free, or any of that, but I tried my best to explain as openly as I could about sex.
There was lots of talking about things I can't even remember now. I could actually see her working through things as we talked, which really made me releaved. She didn't once stand up and pace, or burst into tears or scream angrily at me. That's not to say she wasn't emotional, but it wasn't anything too dramatic. In the end she said that she would rather that I wasn't the way I am, because she wants everything to be perfect and as least difficult as possible. I tried to tell her that the way society is shifting, so quickly in the past 5 years, that my generation won't really have major issues with it. She looked at me like I was from mars, and said that was just a really positive but unrealistic outlook. Maybe so, but people are much more accepting now than ever before.
When she said the part about wishing I wasn't this way, I almost said that I wouldn't change being who I am. I didn't, because it wouldn't have been reassuring to her at that moment, but for the first time I realized that I wouldn't trade my sexuality magically to become straight (or even worse for life, gay!). It was a major realization for me.
I also tried to reassure her about the meaning of bisexuality. She was most worried at the fact I may not get the house with the white picket fence, have 3 kids and a wife and live happily ever after. I reminded her that, even if I were straight, that scenario might have never happened anyway. And who knows, it could someday. It was amazing to be able to, after lots of reading and research, poke enough holes in all of her counter-arguments to make them seem less threatening and hopefully help her accept it easier.
Dad came home and our conversation came to a close. I'd said everything I could think of, emphasised that she needed to ask me any type of question whenever she wanted and I would answer it with complete honesty. We all went to be shortly afterwards. I had a fitful sleep, even though I was very tired my brain was very busy and wouldn't let me sleep. I gave up on the idea of sleeping in at 9 a.m. and prepared to face her after what I knew would be a night of little sleep.
Things were fine, as they had ended the night before. There was no distance that I had worried there would be, and she wasn't resentful or harsh to me. Dad went out, and we were left alone finally. Almost immediately she came and asked if she could ask a few questions.
They were again all to do about sex. I had anticipated such a discussion, and really I still don't know how to answer her questions. Truthfully is best, and I was mostly, but she has very reserved views on sexual encounters. At first she asked me how I'd slept with the guy I'd been seeing, since it only started in February and ended in March. I almost laughed out loud until I realized that she was serious. As diplomatically as possible I told her that in today's society sex isn't seen as something of a last resort; that people feel it differently, and sex comes naturally to some just as waiting comes naturally to others. She then launched into another discussion about safety, at bars and clubs and what if I was drunk and had sex with someone...I answered every question with facts and medical authority, and was very calm when saying that yes, I would be needing to get tested for the rest of my life, and yes, I know where to go, and yes, I'm paranoid about safety.
Then she asked me how I knew so much, and not in a flattering way. I don't know why all my knowledge on every issue surprised her, but it must have been un-nerving for her to be confronted with someone who could actually answer her questions and explain things to her. I'm no authority, but I've done my reading and have the 'on-paper' stuff about begin gay/bi pretty well understood.
She finally sat down and just sighed and said she wanted everyone to just be happy. She wanted me to be happy, and knows I'm too strong-willed to surpress this because it would be an easier life. She wants our family to be happy, and everyone be healthy and comfortable and enjoy life. Simple things, she said, but not because we're simple, just because that's what life is about. I think she's actually adjusting remarkably well.
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