Newsflash: Your Parents Love You.
All right, you guys. It's time to get real. So a long time ago, when I was a wee 18-year-old, I wrote an angry post about coming out to my parents. While everything in it is true, as a world-wise 19-year-old, I now see that it was disrespectful to them and their beliefs. Character development! Anyway, a few days ago, I bit the bullet and told them about my girlfriend (who happens to be long-distance, smart, funny, wonderful, etc.; she reads these, so I don't want to inflate her ego too much). Here is my story.
As it turns out, my parents love me. Surprise, right? I was a total toolbag throughout high school, and a total gaywad since then, and they love me anyway. Kind of cool. Especially when you consider that nobody likes a toolbag, and their denomination of Christian isn't particularly friendly towards gaywads. Just a quick update for those who didn't feel like reading the first post: my dad is a pastor in the LCMS church, which is world-renowned for its bad haircuts and excellent casseroles.
So let's detail the kind of toolbag I was toward them, shall we? I spent most of high school being angry at the world. Specifically, Martin Luther (who decided what Lutherans would think about this particular sin), God (cause baby I was born this way), and myself (we're not going to go into how extensive my guilt complex was). Because I couldn't take it out on Martin Luther (far too dead for that), was scared to take it out on God (what, do YOU want to get smote?), and was already kind of taking it out on myself (we're not going to go into how extensive my guilt complex was), I took it out on them. I was “Order of the Phoenix” Harry times 20, and my parents were poor, poor Ron and Hermione. Thus ends any resemblance to Ron and Hermione. So when I came out to them, I was angry and defensive, without realizing that they'd love and accept me anyway. Granted, they don't approve and have predictable views as to where my eternal soul is headed, but are actually more concerned with my departure from the church (and its accompanying macaroni casserole).
Which, I think, brings us to Monday night. I had sent them an email telling them that I, in fact, had a girlfriend who I'd been seeing for almost three months. There was also a small matter about me lying about who I was actually visiting over Thanksgiving break (hint: it was her). They sat me down Monday night, and we discussed My Sexuality, The Future of My Soul, and The Likelihood of Creationism. It was fun. (Is the sarcasm hand still a thing? Because I actually cried a lot.) Have you ever argued the reliability of the bible with a Lutheran pastor who believes in Sola Scriptura? It's a blast, let me tell you. While neither of them were willing to admit that the bible is actually pretty ambiguous on the topic of homosexuality, and while they once disconcertingly compared being gay to getting cancer (as something that's not in god's plan that happens anyway) they were both very firm on the fact that they still love me. I hadn't really given my mom the chance to say so before, and this (being the first time I've talked about this with my him) was the first time my dad got to say so.
The results of the night: my suspicions were reconfirmed—I'm not allowed to bring a girl home for holidays. Not even if she has a level 100 Pidgeot. They were talking in the long-term, but I might be able to convince them otherwise. I'm allowed to keep seeing Girlfriend (this Sunday and Monday, in fact!), but they don't think they can handle meeting her. I was convinced several times over that they love me. And, lastly, a new emotion surfaced; I feel bad for (apart from the occasional snide comment) completely shutting them out of my life. So, in conclusion, if there's anyone out there going through anything similar to what I did, there may be hope yet. Your parents probably love you. Parents generally do.
Ginger's Song of the Week: I have listened to this song an unhealthy number of times the last couple of days. And it just keeps on getting better.
We love you too, Ginger!
Related posts: Life According to Ginger