Confronting the Past

Written on August 13, 2004 while on vacation in Idaho:

Returning to Idaho has been hectic for us. When we got into Boise, we arranged to meet with friends and family. The friends we wanted to meet with were the easy ones. You pick and choose your friends. Family is a bit tougher. You are born into families, for good or bad. In my case, I didn't really know what to expect from my family. I haven't seen them for twenty years. We parted ways on less than optimal terms.

I first told a cousin that I was gay when I went to college. I think she already knew, and being of very liberal leanings, it was not a big issue for her. My cousin then told everyone else. I didn't ask her to tell people, but she did. My two aunts were another issue. One said that "God loved me anyway, even if it was against the Bible.", and the other one said, "Don't tell John (her husband, but not his real name) because he wouldn't understand, and whatever you do, don't tell your mother because it would kill her."

That was a real ego booster and made me feel very good about myself. The concept of a son being honest and trusting of his mother to tell her the truth was not something I thought of as being a bad thing. But apparently, to my family, the truth of what I was would kill her.

So, I did what any good son would do. I lied. I didn't tell my mother, and, I started distancing myself from my family. I didn't do it to hurt them. I did it because I was struggling to find some reason, any reason to feel good about myself at a time that I hated everything about myself. After that, I would often prey to God to change me and turn me into a decent person. At some point, my cousin wrote me a letter. I only remember one sentence in that letter today. It read, "You still have a family if you want one", meaning it was my fault that things weren't the same as in the past. All I had to do was choose them over my perversion and somehow God would take care of the rest.

That is when I made a decision. It didn't come easy and it didn't come overnight. Part of that decision was based on anger. Part of it was well thought out. In the end, how could I still be part of the family? It was conditional on lieing to the very people that were suppose to be accepting no matter what. I couldn't do that to myself. I also knew that if I had any hopes of spending my life with Kent, it couldn't be built on a lie. I no longer wanted to introduce him as "my friend". I no longer wanted to guard and filter everything I said when it came to who I was attached too. I no longer wanted to say "no", when asked if I had any girlfriends YET. He was more than that and our future depended on him being more than that.

So, here I am, twenty years later, about to meet them again. I didn't know what to expect. I was greeted warmly, and Kent was treated with kindness. He was introduced as "Bill's friend". Nothing had changed, nothing. Our relationship and all that had happened in the past was never mentioned. Everyone knew of the subjects to stear clear of. And what's the point of bringing up something that happened twenty years ago anyway?

The real shame of all of this is what has been lost. Truth, honesty. and my integrity were never compromised; lieing and deceit were. Because the relationship I would have had with my family depended on those lies, it was destroyed as well.

Despite all of that, it was as if they were trying to get reacquainted with a stranger. I might as well have been the next door neighbor they hadn't seen in twenty years. My aunts were exactly the same as I remembered them. My Aunt Verna and Aunt Patty were always fighting over one thing or another but now they had grown closer than I had ever seen them. My Aunt Verna told me that she had had cancer, and that was "real tough, let me tell ya". She said that she thought she was going to die there for awhile and give up. My Aunt Patty spoke up and said, "Yeah, and when she found out that none of us gave a shit, she decided to get better", with a smile on her face. Aunt Verna said, "Well hell yeah! If they weren't going to care, I thought I might as well stick around for another ten years and subject them to me!" It was funny, they were still the same.

Aunt Verna managed a big meal for all of us which was really nice. And they had a big ice cream cake that said, "Welcome Bill and Kent". It was all nice, but I felt as if I were being welcomed into someone's home who never really knew me. It was nice to see them, but sad in a way.

Yes, it was terrible that my family had that attitude and the rejection hurt like hell, at the time. But that was long ago, in my college years. I have always been strong and I came out of it in one piece with a renewed self reliance. Had things been different, had I been a fifteen year old boy with no where to go facing that kind of rejection from the people I loved most, I would probably be like so many other gay teens who never made it who are now lieing in their graves, and I wouldn't be sitting here today writing this.