“Oh, your gay son?” And other crap people say without thinking before they speak…
I was answering a question the other day sitting with a small group of people. Some I knew well some less well. My children drove across America together last spring and one of my friends wanted to talk about it as his son and a friend had done the same trip recently but in reverse. East to West instead of West to East.
“Oh, your gay son?” Someone said. Huh? I didn’t answer and kept telling my story. The man had no idea that what he said was offensive and I wasn’t interested enough in engaging him in further conversation.
By way of introduction, I only have one son. And yet people who should know better put the moniker gay in front of my son as if I am in need of a reminder of my son’s sexual orientation. Nonchalantly like it’s a color or a description. Your blue son or your fat son.
My son came out to me when he was 15
His father and I had been separated for a few months by then. He had just begun his sophomore year in high school. It wasn’t a shock exactly but it was an event. The most defining in his life? Up until that point maybe. Maybe not.
His being able to identify the make and model of every car on the street at age two was pretty amazing. His ability to speak two languages fluently is remarkable.
Maybe not the biggest even in his life, but It’s not my story to tell…and yet other people feel inclined to remind me constantly that my son is gay. As if I might not remember or it is the only way to identify him.
That is really interesting to me because my son is tall, personable, attractive, and musically inclined. He has a ton of friends and really enjoys his life when he isn’t fretting about it.
As if being gay was the rest of the story. His story? My story? Anyone’s whole story.?
It’s not as if he is Ellen Degeneres and came out in Hollywood before it was popular to come out. And then she didn’t work for three years and then went on to have a very successful talk show career.
Isn’t there enough going on?
As if there is not enough reality tv to keep people occupied. Do they want to see the worst in people so they can feel better about themselves? Judge other people and identify them with one word that says everything there is to know about them.
Taking that small part of him, the gay part? Then someone can feel they know something about my son or my family and discounting or ignoring the rest of who he is? The part they think is interesting or titillating or will make me feel like they relate?
How about the fact that he is very kind and has a lovely relationship with his not gay sister?
It’s as if these people are displaying their liberal chops by reminding me that they know my son is gay. Like I have Jewish friends or an Asian colleague.
It sort of reminds me of when people found out I was getting a divorce. They treated the news as if I might be contagious. Mostly sure it’s not. A man I know actually said to me at a party, bragging, “We dodged that bullet” haha, at least we’re not divorced. Huh? Okay then. He walked over to me to say what? I feel your pain? Not even close. Better you than me? Almost exactly. I shook it off.
We as people are such complex and interesting beings. Relationships are everything and why would someone feel the need to categorize other people because we all look alike? (Tweet it!)
I don’t think of him as anything but my son
As he is my only son and my first born, kind-hearted, funny, smart, and talented. Good to his mother. These are the qualities I admire. Why is it that people feel the need, perhaps well-meaningly, to add his sexuality to the conversation?
It’s not how I talk about my daughter. My strong sweet heterosexual daughter. Strange right? I am not sure why we feel the need to categorize other people. Put them in boxes as if our complicated messiness can be so easily explained.
“Have you met my friend, Doug?” “Yes, he’s a lovely man, unhappily married and possibly bi-sexual.” It’s just not done.
As if discussing someone’s sexuality somehow distinguishes them more than other parts of them. Maybe it’s some kind of a code. I certainly don’t refer to other people’s children in the same way. My niece the vegan? Your son with the learning disability?
I have a few friends with gay kids. We were friends long before we knew any of our children were gay and yet none of us refer to our children except by their first names. Yes, we examined, commiserated, and discussed the challenges they might face in an intolerant world but it wasn’t the basis of our friendships. Not what keeps us friends today.
Is it about labels? Making sure we know which side everyone is on? Whose team they bat for, vote for, live for?
Be kind to yourself.
Coaching with Tamara Mendelson
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