When my Dad looked at me with a surprised “Oh,” I knew I was in for a treat. I had just explained the sleeping arrangements to him in my then-empty one-bedroom house. He was helping me move and was naturally curious as to where my “roommate” was going to sleep.
“Right here,” I replied with a smile, gesturing to where the left side of the bed would be.
“What about you?”
“Right here,” the grin getting wider, this time motioning to the right side.
This is where the “Oh” comes into play. Surprised, yet knowing. Shocked –but barely.
After all, he had seen some pictures a few years before that he could have passed off as "experimenting."
“Right here,” I replied with a smile, gesturing to where the left side of the bed would be.
“What about you?”
“Right here,” the grin getting wider, this time motioning to the right side.
This is where the “Oh” comes into play. Surprised, yet knowing. Shocked –but barely.
After all, he had seen some pictures a few years before that he could have passed off as "experimenting."
(For the record, I wasn't.)
Anyhow, my "coming out" to my family was pretty anti-climactic. That was it for my Dad, who in his seventh-generation Vermonter type of way took it in stride and then proceeded to pepper me with questions. Once satisfied that it was the real deal -that I was in love with a woman, he relaxed into his typical completely-inappropriate self:
"Well, I guess if you two are ever broke, you could always make a movie."
That's my Dad.
Mom is a little different, and surprisingly so. She is the liberal of the two (Dad is a gun-wielding Republican) -has her Master's and is an educator, votes Dem every time, likes gardening and is generally very easy to talk to.
All except for this. Neither of us bring it up often -if at all. It slightly annoys and sometimes embarrasses me that the woman who I thought would take it in stride and make it a non-issue is the one whom I feel most guarded around. Who knows?
Maybe if I had mentioned it to her in a better way, we could have had a heart-to-heart. As it happens, she found out from my older brother who called her to ask how I should tell Dad that I was with a chick... (An insanely wonderful one at that, but we'll get to that at a later date.) For the record, he did *not* have my permission to do this task for me -and I never really planned on "coming out." I figured that my family is smart and would realize that she wasn't my roommate when, well, whenever they saw the way that I drooled around her.
Anyhow -those are the bare bones.
Anyhow, my "coming out" to my family was pretty anti-climactic. That was it for my Dad, who in his seventh-generation Vermonter type of way took it in stride and then proceeded to pepper me with questions. Once satisfied that it was the real deal -that I was in love with a woman, he relaxed into his typical completely-inappropriate self:
"Well, I guess if you two are ever broke, you could always make a movie."
That's my Dad.
Mom is a little different, and surprisingly so. She is the liberal of the two (Dad is a gun-wielding Republican) -has her Master's and is an educator, votes Dem every time, likes gardening and is generally very easy to talk to.
All except for this. Neither of us bring it up often -if at all. It slightly annoys and sometimes embarrasses me that the woman who I thought would take it in stride and make it a non-issue is the one whom I feel most guarded around. Who knows?
Maybe if I had mentioned it to her in a better way, we could have had a heart-to-heart. As it happens, she found out from my older brother who called her to ask how I should tell Dad that I was with a chick... (An insanely wonderful one at that, but we'll get to that at a later date.) For the record, he did *not* have my permission to do this task for me -and I never really planned on "coming out." I figured that my family is smart and would realize that she wasn't my roommate when, well, whenever they saw the way that I drooled around her.
Anyhow -those are the bare bones.
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