“You feel the weight
Of lies and contradictions that you live with every day
It's not too late
Think of what could be if you rewrite the role you play
Take a step before you leap
Into the colours that you seek
You give back what you give away
So don't look back on yesterday”
- Adam Lambert, Aftermath
When I finally made peace with my sexuality a couple of month ago, I didn’t quite feel the sense of relief one would expect. That probably sounds strange. But you see - while my inner struggle was finally over, I knew that the hardest part of my journey still lay ahead. And that would be breaking the news to my family and friends.
I think as children one of our biggest fears is disappointing our parents. We all want our parents to be proud of us, and up till now I’ve done everything within my power to live the kind of life that would make my parents proud. It should therefore come as no surprise that I found the fear of my parents’ reaction to the news near crippling. All the while knowing that the time would come when I would no longer be able to withhold the truth, and still live the full life I was longing for.
After breaking the news to the majority of my close friends the past couple of months, I finally decided I would sit my parents down the weekend after we return from Easter break. Or at least, that was the plan. Shortly after making this all important decision, I was informed that Mother’s Day was also that weekend. Not exactly the best timing.
In the end I realised that I could no longer prolong the inevitable. The longer I waited, the bigger the risk that my parents could find out the the truth before I had the chance to tell them myself. So I decided that I would sit them down 2 days before the end of our Easter break.
When the day finally arrived, I was nervous to say the least. In fact, I spent the better part of the day thinking of the right way to approach the subject – feeling very much like a lawyer preparing an opening argument for a court case. My fear almost got the better of me. But I knew that if I didn’t take the leap there and then, I might never find the courage again.
I don’t think I will ever forget the look of hurt and disappointment on my mother’s face when I finally dropped the bomb. My father was the one to offer some words of comfort, and it wasn’t too long before my mother broke down in tears. I did my best to comfort her, but before long I too found myself crying. Many questions were asked and a great many things were said over the course of that weekend – most of which I had anticipated, and yet some of it still hurt just as badly. By the time my parents dropped me off at home after our break, I felt like I was at the lowest point I had been at since I had started on this journey. I couldn’t help but feel like I had taken away everything my parents had held dear, and had thereby “broken” them in a sense.
The very next weekend was Mother’s Day, and I was not about to abandon my mother – no matter the circumstances. Naturally, I prepared myself for the worst. So much so, that I was almost taken aback by the fact that things seemed to be back to the way they had been before.
Over the course of the weekend it became clear that my parents were still digesting it all, but that they were making the effort to be understanding. I have no doubt that my parents will still have many questions and concerns to raise in the months to come. And while they may never be able to approve of my “lifestyle”, the important thing to me is that they seem to be “OK”. The one thing I had been most concerned about.
Now, 7 months after the initial fact, I finally feel like that weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Like I can start living my life. A life that I hope will finally bring me the love and happiness that has eluded me till now.
