I’d never identified as bisexual until just before the divorce. I guess if I’d been paying attention to my own actions and desires I would have noticed. But I just figured I was into what I was into and never really thought about it. After the divorce I began exploring things a little.
I came out to my mom before I left for NY. It was important to me. Because I’d lived with so many secrets for so long. I didn’t want any more. It was also important to me to be 100% honest to who I was. But I also felt like I was getting weird hints from her. Threads of conversation that seemed like they were perfect openers into the topic.
At any rate. One day I told her. And she didn’t really blink an eye. I asked her how and when I should tell my brother and my dad. She said why not wait till you have a girlfriend. I could deal with that.
I never exactly told my brother. I had a myspace page. There’s a little check box for orientation. I was honest. Then one day he added me as a friend. I couldn’t exactly ignore the friend request. I thought about changing the little check box. But then I decided, no, that’s who I am. Maybe he won’t notice.
He never said anything about it. But there was a day when he and I were out having a beer. Somehow myspace came up. By this point my sister-in-law and my 16 year old niece had also friended me on myspace. I made some comment about how I tried to filter what I said there, because of them. My brother, the baptist preacher, set down his beer and looked me dead in the eye and said, “there’s nothing you could say that would make me love you any less.”
Yeah, so he’d noticed the little box.
Then it was just my dad that didn’t know. There were a hundred times I wanted to tell him. But it’s not like there was ever a girl I dated that was worth writing home about. Until Aaron I wasn’t telling them about anyone I was dating. And really, I was doing more sowing of wild oats than “dating”.
But it started to feel like a lie. And the longer it went, the more I imagined it would hurt Dad when he found out and then found out that he was the last to know. But I was afraid to tell him. Not because I thought he’d be upset or anything. My folks are very gay friendly. But there’s something different about knowing gay people and having your daughter turn up queer. Somehow I couldn’t help feel like I was going to disappoint him. And if there’s one thing that would kill me, it would be knowing I’d disappointed my father.
But, I’m open about my life. On the internet and elsewhere. And the circle of people who knew was starting to close in. I didn’t want him to hear about this from someone else. So I made a decision when I went home for Christmas. I was going to come out to my dad.
I snagged Mom one day when we were alone. Quizzing her as to whether or not she’d ever said anything. She, of course, wanted to know if I’d actually been with a woman yet or if I just thought I liked women. I just looked at her. “Mom. I know, OK? Let’s dispense with the details of how I know.”
So then she tells me that she thinks my dad thinks I’m a lesbian.
Record scratch.
“Wait. What?”
And she explained that since the divorce had been so bad. And seeing as how I never talked about dating anyone. So when I’d told them about Aaron, evidently they were relieved. I had to stop and get more clarification. To confirm that yes, they had an actual conversation about how they thought I’d crossed all the way over to the other side of the fence.
I do live in San Francisco and talk about going to Pride and stuff like that. But good lord, they know that all my friends are gay men. They always have been. That means nothing.
The next person I quizzed was my sister-in-law. She affirmed that as far as she knew Dad had no idea. And she backed up the story about the relief concerning my choice of a boy as a dating partner. How mom had said, over a family dinner, “Well, she’s dating again. And it’s a boy.”
Sheesh.
It happened a few nights later. We were at the ocean. Dad, my brother, and I were sitting on the porch smoking cigars. My brother started chuckling. Made some comment about how this was a situation he never thought he’d be in. Smoking cigars with his sister. I made some comment about how I wasn’t like other girls.
Several minutes later my dad was telling some story about how he’d been out with some of the other coaches after a practice. How he was the oldest in the group and yet he was the one the cute young waitress was hitting on. I asked if she was cute. He said yes. And then there was a pause. So I took a deep breath.
“You know Dad. About that. There’s something you should know.”
“OK.”
“Sometimes I date women.”
“OK.”
And that was pretty much it. We went back to talking about tequila and football and home repair.
A few days later, back at home, Dad had gone through the house turning off lights and locking doors. He came into the office where I was checking email. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I never told you the other day. You’re my little girl. I love you. And there’s nothing you could ever tell me that would change that.”
Even now as I type this, several months later, that brings tears to my eyes.
