at some point. Well, unless they’re a sociopath but I’m not going there today.
Today, I’m thinking about my parents.
Here’s the thing: nothing makes them happier than hearing I’m dating a guy.
They stopped expecting marriage or children from me since I’ve been adamantly anti both since I was eight. But they really want me to be straight.
When I exited my lesbian relationship, not only were they suddenly really interested and present in my life, they became sincerely loving and supportive parents. And I tried to ignore the reason for their sudden 180°, but that was difficult because by the time they decided to reconnect with me, their marked absence during those relationship years had turned them into strangers. The inarguable bottom line was that they were thrilled they didn’t have to consider a newly single me a lesbian because there was hope that maybe, just maybe, I’d date a guy again.
They really like a certain idea of me rather than the real deal.
What can I say, most of us are guilty of this at some point in our lives.
So you can imagine their absolute joy when my BF turned out to be a transsexual.
Considering historical evidence, the anti-conformist egalitarian in me really doesn’t want to tell my parents about my breakup because it would make my mom, especially, so stupidly happy. And I think it’s good for them to try to love me in spite of my relationship choices.
I mean it’s not going to hurt them to be in the dark about my recent relationship status, right? It’s good to expand prejudicial spheres until they (hopefully) disappear into acceptance, no? I’m usually of a live and let live mindset; I’m not out to push an agenda on people but if there are two people in the world I don’t feel bad about making actively uncomfortable for their prejudices, it’s my parents.
Then I remember that my dad has fucking cancer and what if it would bring him such great relief to hear that I’m not dating a transsexual? What if knowing that makes him so happy it gives him renewed hope or vigor or whatever it is that helps people beat cancer? Which then makes me wonder if I don’t tell him about my breakup am I depriving him ammunition to fight his cancer?
This is when I start to feel guilty, which is so messed up on so many levels.
But then I think about my next person and judging from my relationship history, that someone could be anyone.
Which means that my parents’ relief rooted in prejudice could be very short-lived.
And that makes me smile. Guiltlessly.