I Think My Parents Keep Trying to Get Me to Come Out to Them

By Anonymous

Mine is a story you might not have heard before, the reverse of what you might expect to be typical. But, alas, everything you are about to read is completely true.

I always felt like a stranger to the people I went to high school with. I didn’t have much in common with them, and I always felt like the weird one. So naturally, in terms of friends, I gravitated towards the only other people in my school who were like me: kind of weird, sad, and strange. Among the outcasts I found solace. 

But, because of the…homogenous nature of my school and town (that will be another bunion post because oh my god do I have stories), many of us “outcasts” were LGBTQ. Colloquially, my friend group became known among our peers as “the gays” (you can’t make this shit up).

My parents, bless their hearts, were good about pronouns and name changes and were accepting of anyone I hung out with, but they started to make the occasional remark along the lines of  “Wow you’re not really friends with that many straight people are you.” 

Whenever my mom asked me if there was any boy I liked, she would hastily add “or girl” as if covering all her bases, preparing for me to step up to the plate and drop the news. 

I once told my dad I was going to march in the pride parade with my friends. He raised his eyebrows and stared silently at me, almost like he was waiting for me to tell him a secret I had been keeping. When I didn’t say anything, he just said, “Have fun,” and turned back to whatever Facebook user he was arguing with about old model planes.

All this secret prompting was made worse by the fact that, while my brother was playing sports and had a long-term girlfriend, my friends and I spent our weekends dressing up in Renaissance clothing and having tea in the park (I’m a dork). 

Since coming to BU, my dilemma has only worsened. Because I go to BU, my friends here are mostly not straight, and this has my parents in a damn tizzy. Why doesn’t she have any straight friends? Does it mean she is one of “them?” They’re left wondering. 

They have never come right out and asked the question directly. But they have definitely become more obvious in their attempts to get me to say what they so desperately want to hear: “Why are you friends with so many gay people?” “You know I don’t care who you date, right?” “My roommate in college was gay.” “If your dad and I ever got divorced, I think I would definitely marry a woman.” Etc., etc., etc. (yes, these are all real things my parents have said). I get that they’re just trying to be supportive, but god is it getting annoying. 

I’m not sure what tactic they’re going to try next to get a confession out of me. I am not going to give it to them though, at least for a little while longer. I like keeping them on their toes. 

But still, the question remains: am I gay? Well, my friends, that’s up to you to decide.