“Mom, Dad, I’m gay…” This was truly the most terrifying day of my life. I was raised in a strict catholic family who tended to frown on those who were very different. I was brought up with certain beliefs, but I always knew inside that one day I would have to tell my parents that I was one of those people that they didn’t approve of. I had a feeling that I was different ever since I was young. I hoped, for my parent’s sake, that I would grow out of it, but instead, I grew into it. I think they always knew too, how could they not? I never talked about girls and when they tried to suggest one from church, I would always shrug and change the subject. It was because I wasn’t interested in Mary; I liked her brother, Greg. My mom and dad seemed to just ignore any signs that I didn’t fit in because they were scared. So was I, when it came time to tell them. I was a teenager, I was in High School, and I needed to be myself.
They didn’t take the news well. At first, they were sure that I was just confused and that I just needed to talk to some people, meaning doctors. But, it’s not something I chose and it’s not something that can be changed. They sent me to every priest who tried to “talk the sin out of me”. My dad even bought me a playboy magazine. He thought that I just needed to see the alterative. That magazine only made me more positive of my feelings for males. And after a year of trying to change my mind, they kicked me out. They said that if I insisted on being different, that they couldn’t be responsible for me. It was the hardest thing I ever had to hear, that my parents didn’t love me, just because I would never marry a good Catholic girl. They only cared about themselves. I was completely, and utterly alone. They cut me off and I had no where to go. Thankfully, I had a very good friend, by the name of Lisa, whose parents took me in as their own. They too were Catholic, but the accepting kind of modern, liberal Catholic. They believed in God and went to church, but understood who I was and had me as a son.
It’s incredibly painful to remember my parents, who I have not had any contact with in a number of years. Lisa’s family became my own and her folks even sent me to college. It was comforting to know that there were people in the world who loved me, even if they couldn’t be my own parents. I dream of the day when I see my mom and dad again and they beg for my forgiveness, but somehow, I know that that will never happen.