Family, Religion, and Homophobia

July 16th, 2018 -Talking to conservative family members about my sexual orientation always seemed like a daunting task, so I put it off for as long as possible. Walking into Panera a week ago was my first step at initiating a dialogue I had been dreading having since nearly 5 years earlier when I had first come out publicly.

My cousins and I are about as close as most cousins are. We get together on holidays, stay up to date on each other’s lives via social media, and occasionally plan time to get together and hang out apart from Christmas and Thanksgiving. This organized hang out was different though. My cousin – who I won’t name for obvious privacy reasons – and I had made plans to hang out because, in the weeks leading up to this dinner, a topic we had never officially discussed before had been brought up…my sexuality.

This meeting was sparked by a text late one evening about a month earlier. She had reached out to me because she felt there might be something I was struggling with. She was right in the sense that there had been something I had wanted to talk to her, and the other four members of her family, about for nearly 5 years…but when is there ever a good moment to say “Hey family, I like girls and I wanted to know how you all felt about that?”. This felt like as good a moment as any, so I figured ‘what the hell’ and asked her if she and her family would want to someday be invited to my wedding, which would obviously include me committing to spend my life with another woman.

Now I had a feeling that this side of my family might not be fully supportive of my coming out, as whenever I would post social media comments, stories, or pictures regarding who I was they would refrain from supporting those posts. But I also figured it was possible that, while they might not fully understand it, they might be open to talking about it and hearing my side of things.

Some background information. This part of my family is made up of devout catholics who are strong in their faith. None of them have ever been hateful or rude to me about anything I do that they may disagree with, but that’s not to say that they are flexible when it comes to what they believe.

Full disclosure here…growing up in the catholic church is an upbringing I am unfamiliar with. Ever since I was a kid I attended a church that was non-denominational and accepting of all, so I never really understood those who could stand so strongly to their convictions, refusing to waiver, even when life teaches you nothing is as black and white as words in a book make it out to be.

This meeting was not something I agreed to lightly. Imagine having feelings you can’t change or always explain to others, something you are often very self conscious about because you want to ensure you do not make other people uncomfortable solely because of who you are, and then bring in the risk of rejection from someone who you have looked up to and admired your whole life, and you get a situation that lends itself to an extreme amount of anxiety and fear.

I wanted acceptance. I wanted love. I wanted her to say that regardless of our differences my happiness was most important. I wanted her to say that while she might not be satisfied living the life I am living, she knew this was my journey and I had to live it this way to ensure my life was full of happiness and fulfillment. If that’s where you expect this story is going than you can stop reading now….life isn’t that simple.

What follows is my interpretation/recollection of her and my’s conversation, and how we came to the crossroads we are at now.

As we sat down with our food, I noticed that I had chosen an apple as my side for my meal. The satire of this moment was not lost on me as I recalled the biblical symbolism of the apple, and how it was an integral part of the first initial sin Adam and Eve partook in that ‘doomed humanity’, or at least I think that’s how the story goes. Anyways, I looked at the apple, realized I didn’t believe in sin, and took as big of a bite as I could muster. This moment foreshadowed the conversation we were about to have, as I looked over at her plate and she had chosen bread, a common item used to symbolize the flesh of Jesus in the catholic church. This was at least not going to be a boring conversation.

We avoided the looming discussion for as long as we could, which was about an hour and a half, but we were both well aware that we would have to discuss the elephant in the room at sometime. Panera closed at 9pm, so at around 8:20pm the long awaited shoe dropped.

I started things off by recounting my coming out, and how the first years were difficult for me. I felt alone. I felt suicidal. I felt unhappy because I didn’t want to be this way. And most of all I felt angry because no one in my life seemed to be able to understand what it was I was going through. I longed to talk to someone who was like me. Someone who had fallen in love with a close friend and then been rejected by them. Someone who had realized that they were different in a world that begs you to conform so you don’t stand out. She listened and sympathized with how hard that must have been. She was not condescending or belittling to me. She genuinely wanted to know what I was feeling and hear my side of the story. That made me feel better because I felt that, no matter what happened, at least we were mature enough to be respectful of each other’s opinions.

Then it was her turn to talk she told me how her family’s initial response to my coming out was an overwhelming sadness. They had felt sad for a multitude of reasons, but the main one was because they knew this was something I was going to struggle with. They knew this would be something I would struggle to find peace with, and to be honest with you, they weren’t wrong. Accepting that I was gay was never something that came easy for me. Years of therapy and anti-depressants later I am finally able to say that I am confident being my authentic and truthful self, no matter what anyone else may think of that choice, but when I first came out I was not.

She told me that they were kind of shocked to find out on social media. I admit notifying everyone in my life via a Facebook post was probably not the most sensitive, but at the time it was the only way I knew I wouldn’t back out and push myself back in the closest. I told her that of course I could understand any pain or confusion when reading such a big personal statement along with the rest of the world, but I explained that at the time I needed support and positivity. I knew their religious affiliations might present a challenge for them when it came to this topic. I knew that they were one of the closest people to me, but that they might not show me the support I desperately needed to continue choosing to live, so I choose myself instead of them. I choose myself over anyone else at that time because that’s what I needed for me. I needed acceptance. I needed an outpouring of support so large, that I could find the will to continue on, all be it scared and afraid, but alive.

After discussing my story and how I have come to be the version of myself you see (figuratively) standing before you, it was her turn to tell me her side of things. Interestingly enough I learned a lot about myself that day.

She told me that catholic people do not hate gays. They do not hate gay people for their attractions to the same sex, because we all know feelings aren’t something we can control, but our actions are. Feeling is uncontrollable. Acting on that feeling is a choice. This is how she explained to me, in the best way that she could, that her and her family would not want to be invited to my wedding. In her eyes she and her family believe that me acting on my homosexual attractions will cause me suffering and conflict within my life. They believe that not acting on these feelings is the only way for me to live a happy and fulfilling life, and should I choose to remain celibate they would support me 100%. However, by choosing to act on my sexual attractions I am choosing sin. She explained that by partaking in any action that condones sin (aka my gay wedding) their family would be inadvertently supporting my sin and therefore not fulfilling their duty as followers of the catholic church.

Another difficult subject was brought up; that of my family someday. I could accept that this part of my family would not want to be at my wedding because it could be seen as them showing support for my actions, but never wanting to get to know my wife and kids…that’s more permanent. A wedding is a day long, a weekend if you’re truly crazy, but a family is forever…at least most are. Fostering a relationship with my future wife and kids would, in their minds, be reinforcing my decision to act on my sexual attractions. In our discussion it was made very clear that they would not want to have a relationship with these people because they could not support that lifestyle.

I asked her if the church wanted someone like me to spend my whole life alone? Sad and suffering because I couldn’t be with someone who genuinely made me happy? She said that the way catholics see it, I would not be suffering and would instead live a completely fulfilling life practicing celibacy. She explained that catholics believe I could foster relationships that were not sexual and still live a life that was joyous.

I asked her if it was ever exhausting having to worry about sins and repenting, and with conviction she answered no. She informed me that following the Bible was how she kept herself grounded and how she found peace within herself. Knowing what was right and wrong was clearly written in its pages and therefore she always had a way to discern between the two.

I think the hardest part of the conversation, and the only thing I will struggle with going forward, is coming to terms with the fact that my relationship with those five people is ending because of something I cannot change. Because of something I did not choose. Because of something that makes me who I am.

I want to make this very clear. The conversation we had was as civil and respectful as it possibly could have been. They truly believe that this decision is what is best for them, so it does me no good to argue. Would I love my wedding day to be filled with ALL of my friends and family? Of course. Do I want someone who doesn’t support all of me at one of the most important days of my life? No.

As we made our way outside, having closed down the Panera, an ominous storm culminated on the horizon, urging us both to end the debate where it stood and part ways. Perhaps this storm was an omen for the tumultuous and inevitable demise our relationship was encountering, or perhaps it symbolized a chance to wash the slate clean and begin again. I guess we won’t truly know how the story plays out until I’m standing at the alter someday, waiting for my wife to start the next chapter of our life, and there are either five people that I love in attendance or five empty chairs.