Hint of Karma

I called my mother on Saturday to bite the bullet and talk about me being a big gayer and that.

After the usual banal chatter (the economy is bad; the cat is not pregnant) I decided to force the issue by explaining, relatively casually, that I had broken up with my ‘boyfriend’ (well she doesn’t know what you know gentle reader) a while before but that I was thinking about going out dating again.

This didn’t really generate much of a response at first. So I ploughed on and talked about my plans to visit a friend of mine in China in the early autumn, and my mother asked me if I had any other holiday plans this year. I explained that International and I had tentatively looked at Berlin in April though that of course is not now going to happen.

My mother then invited me to stay with her if I wanted to and needed a break, so – in a blatant bit of agenda pushing – I asked if, should I be seeing someone, I could bring him with me.

And I think this is what broke the ice! My mother explained that I was welcome to bring anyone I wanted; that was fine. She would ensure that there was no family around and we wouldn’t be disturbed.

Ah ha! I thought to myself. I pushed this a bit and she explained she wouldn’t want anyone to find out from her that I am gay – essentially my secret is safe with her.

Well, obviously we talked further about this. Yes, it does seem as I suspected; my mother treats my homosexuality like she would if I were an alcoholic or a shop-lifter or something. An unfortunate state of affairs that doesn’t stop her loving me but possibly is something best kept under wraps for fear of embarrassment. To her credit primarily embarrassment to me – but nonetheless not really the attitude I was hoping for.

So, I explained as best I could my being a big gayer is merely a part of who I am, like my brown eyes and being 5’11’’ (180cm). She should talk to whomsoever she pleases about it – especially me if she has any concerns or queries. I came out to her because it was important to me. To anyone else it’s a fact of life that is hardly any more their business than my shoe size.

There we have it then: not as bad as I first feared but still I’m glad we talked it through. Clearly some form of conversation was needed. It does occur to me that perhaps my own concerns in this area were a reflection of my insecurities generally. But if so this will help tackle that issue too, so it’s all to the good.