Friday, January 8, 2010

Telling Dad

"'I am not alone, I am not afraid, I am not unhappy,'
These are the words I say to myself, every day,
I am not alone, I am not afraid, I am not unhappy.
Tell me what ritual I should have today.
But I'm not alone,
I've resolved so many things, and set myself free."
-- VNV Nation, Fearless

As most know, I recently came out to my dad, and my two little sisters. I told Dad in person, instead of rewriting the letter. I could pretend this was some brave gesture, facing my fear head on, but my motives were mostly selfish; I told him directly because the reaction I was most afraid of was silence. In the end, I froze, and wasn't the one to actually say the word anyway.

I hardly see my dad, in fact this was probably the first time I'd seen him in two years, despite living just a five mile drive apart. Similar to most of my family, it's not that we don't like eachother, it's just that we aren't that close.

I'd expected to see him on Christmas day, and planned to tell him then, in the face of a few warnings not to. I wasn't about to wait any longer. Dad sometimes makes it difficult to arrange a get-together. When he didn't return my calls, I began paranoid imaginings that he was intentionally avoiding me this time, because he'd already found out; I even conceived a plan of telling him over the phone, to get it over with. When he called apologizing and explaining that his phone wasn't working, we arranged to have dinner together a couple of days later instead, when both Erin and my little sisters would be able to join us.

I knew Caitlyn and Carli (my sisters) would take it well. They're both laid back young teenagers, who make me excited to see who they'll grow up to be. When Dad left the table, I told my sisters, and the three of us began texting back-and-forth about it when he came back. After dinner, I said I had something I needed to tell him, which I followed up with stuttering noises, and quick glances between the wall and table. If I ever go skydiving, I'll definitely need someone to push me out of the plane. Eventually Caitlyn blurted it out for me, and I followed it up with some more specific explaining.

Dad seemed to take it well. He made sure to tell me that he still loves me, and even cracked a few jokes about how he was sorry that the Christmas presents he'd gotten me weren't more feminine. There was probably more going on under the surface, but for now I'm just grateful for the support. We'll worry about the rest later.