"Mom, Dad. I'm gay."
I didn't just blurt it out, I built up to it, slowly.
My parents had just moved into a small one bedroom cottage on Pasquog Reservoir. I went to see thier new home and it turned out to be a big heart-to-heart visit.
My relationship with them had been a bit rocky in the 80's. The combination of my increasing demands of independence and resentment over their (supposed inability) unwillingness to help me out financially in my goals of a college education, and their increasing debt/decreasing income during the recession of the early 1980's, put me at great odds with them.
Ever since an early age I've harbored a great big sense of entitlement. When it came time for college considerations, I really didn't get much guidance or give it much thought. I felt that I should be able to attend whatever college I chose regardless of academic or economic preparations.
It came as a shock to me that even though I was accepted to every college I applied to, my parents were not able to provide me with any help towards tuition. I knew they couldn't foot the whole bill, but to deny any help...well, it was a death sentence to the colleges that I had wanted to attend.
Though not Harvard or Yale, my colleges were all prestigious private colleges in New England. That was my contribution to the costs issue, in a way, by selecting colleges that, if I had to, I could be a commuter. And it's one of the primary reasons I chose Bryant College (Now Bryant University) as my first choice. It was very close by in North Smithfield and that would save a lot of money. But, being a private school, the tuition was still way more than I could afford alone on my Howard Johnson's salary.
By 1988 though, I had kinda given up hope of great achievements so I was more receptive to my parents who themselves had such low expectations in life.
I myself had undergone a dramatic paradigm shift in life goals once I realized I was gay and after the failure to achieve the means to enter Bryant, decided that maybe it wasn't "in the cards" for me anyway. After all, wasn't art more to my liking?
I entered into art classes in the local Community College, but after the money for even that ran out, had to quit before I had graduated just some 30 credits or so shy.
By 1988 I was working only part time, but it was fulfilling work bringing mentally retarded adults out on what amounted to forced play-dates. Oh, but I thought I was really doing a service. Only thing, they paid me the equivalent salary that was equal to a moron, you could say.
But my parents had found what they felt would be their Nirvana. It was totally suited to them. They had full usage of the dock and the large lawn with picnic tables, so, over the subsequent years, they would through some great parties, expanding beyond the house interior, to the picnic area and the dock and eventually upon the pontoon party boat with seating for 14.
But before all the hoopla, then came move in day, when I finally, after all these years came out, officially, to my parents.
Though I feared the reaction of my father the most, as if he would suddenly want to kill me, he was actually rather calm and cool about it. He said that he kinda knew all along. My mother though, said politically correct words like..."I love you no matter what you are". She started to reveal her true feelings when she told me "Well, I think it's just a phase your going through."
Yeah, Mom, like I was going through a phase when you caught me playing with your costume jewelery and makeup when I was eight?
Yeah Mom, like it was a phase when you noticed I was wearing another boys bathing suit and likely had a slightly engorged penis when I was nine?
Yeah Mom, that despite your prohibition on ever contacting my best friend John after the bathing suit issue, you found out that I was still communicating with him?
Yeah Mom, like after the runaway attempt with Michael D. you didn't see a deeper connection there.
Yeah Mom, like after the suspension over the fight with Camille you didn't figure out what that was all about.
Yeah Mom, like you never looked at John N. in the early days and didn't see in his face his absolute love and adoration of me.
Yeah Mom, like you never understood why Michael P. and I were so into fashion, late night parties and Diana Ross.
It wasn't just a phase.
Though they may not have been 100% accepting, I do have to hand it to them they were civil and didn't berate me for who I am.
And my decision to come out at that time was heavily based on my assumption that this new house for them would really be a catalyst for getting the family back together.
And for years there after, it was. We held many a happy lakeside party there, entering the 90's with a renewed happiness and closeness for our previously very dysfunctional family.
I didn't just blurt it out, I built up to it, slowly.
My parents had just moved into a small one bedroom cottage on Pasquog Reservoir. I went to see thier new home and it turned out to be a big heart-to-heart visit.
My relationship with them had been a bit rocky in the 80's. The combination of my increasing demands of independence and resentment over their (supposed inability) unwillingness to help me out financially in my goals of a college education, and their increasing debt/decreasing income during the recession of the early 1980's, put me at great odds with them.
Ever since an early age I've harbored a great big sense of entitlement. When it came time for college considerations, I really didn't get much guidance or give it much thought. I felt that I should be able to attend whatever college I chose regardless of academic or economic preparations.
It came as a shock to me that even though I was accepted to every college I applied to, my parents were not able to provide me with any help towards tuition. I knew they couldn't foot the whole bill, but to deny any help...well, it was a death sentence to the colleges that I had wanted to attend.
Though not Harvard or Yale, my colleges were all prestigious private colleges in New England. That was my contribution to the costs issue, in a way, by selecting colleges that, if I had to, I could be a commuter. And it's one of the primary reasons I chose Bryant College (Now Bryant University) as my first choice. It was very close by in North Smithfield and that would save a lot of money. But, being a private school, the tuition was still way more than I could afford alone on my Howard Johnson's salary.
By 1988 though, I had kinda given up hope of great achievements so I was more receptive to my parents who themselves had such low expectations in life.
I myself had undergone a dramatic paradigm shift in life goals once I realized I was gay and after the failure to achieve the means to enter Bryant, decided that maybe it wasn't "in the cards" for me anyway. After all, wasn't art more to my liking?
I entered into art classes in the local Community College, but after the money for even that ran out, had to quit before I had graduated just some 30 credits or so shy.
By 1988 I was working only part time, but it was fulfilling work bringing mentally retarded adults out on what amounted to forced play-dates. Oh, but I thought I was really doing a service. Only thing, they paid me the equivalent salary that was equal to a moron, you could say.
But my parents had found what they felt would be their Nirvana. It was totally suited to them. They had full usage of the dock and the large lawn with picnic tables, so, over the subsequent years, they would through some great parties, expanding beyond the house interior, to the picnic area and the dock and eventually upon the pontoon party boat with seating for 14.
But before all the hoopla, then came move in day, when I finally, after all these years came out, officially, to my parents.
Though I feared the reaction of my father the most, as if he would suddenly want to kill me, he was actually rather calm and cool about it. He said that he kinda knew all along. My mother though, said politically correct words like..."I love you no matter what you are". She started to reveal her true feelings when she told me "Well, I think it's just a phase your going through."
Yeah, Mom, like I was going through a phase when you caught me playing with your costume jewelery and makeup when I was eight?
Yeah Mom, like it was a phase when you noticed I was wearing another boys bathing suit and likely had a slightly engorged penis when I was nine?
Yeah Mom, that despite your prohibition on ever contacting my best friend John after the bathing suit issue, you found out that I was still communicating with him?
Yeah Mom, like after the runaway attempt with Michael D. you didn't see a deeper connection there.
Yeah Mom, like after the suspension over the fight with Camille you didn't figure out what that was all about.
Yeah Mom, like you never looked at John N. in the early days and didn't see in his face his absolute love and adoration of me.
Yeah Mom, like you never understood why Michael P. and I were so into fashion, late night parties and Diana Ross.
It wasn't just a phase.
Though they may not have been 100% accepting, I do have to hand it to them they were civil and didn't berate me for who I am.
And my decision to come out at that time was heavily based on my assumption that this new house for them would really be a catalyst for getting the family back together.
And for years there after, it was. We held many a happy lakeside party there, entering the 90's with a renewed happiness and closeness for our previously very dysfunctional family.