It really does take a tragedy to leave a lasting impression on one. Something so devastating with undesirable consequences will ensure that you remember your lesson.
Recently, my phone got stolen. My beautiful ‘mirror image of perfection’ Galaxy S7 Edge is no longer in my personal possession. It was stolen by a guy I was hooking up with. So imagine the conversation I had to have when I had to tell my parents what happened.
Losing my phone is one thing. And mind you it was a new phone and was everything to me. The circumstances how I lost the phone were an even bigger deal. In short, an impromptu coming out as being gay to my parents in the least ideal scenario. It’s already bad enough they had to hear their son say he’s gay, but adding salt to the wound is the fact that he sleeps around, on top of being stupid enough to trust people and lose a three thousand ringgit phone in 10 minutes.
As a direct result of my actions, there were some harsh things said and a lot of crying. And by a lot, I mean A LOT (yes with capitals). I swear I never cried so much in my life. But when your dad says to your brother “I don’t want to lose another son”, it kinda kills you a little, even if he apologised and says he didn’t mean it. It was hard for them. It was hard for me. Asking if I even tried to be “normal” (a.k.a heterosexual) is an unnecessary question. Do people think all gay men are complacent with their sexuality from the beginning? Do you think we don’t question ourselves? Or struggle with ourselves? Hiding from discrimination and the frown on people’s faces, like the one on yours right now? Do you think it’s enjoyable to have to keep everything to yourself? Unlike “normal” kids, I couldn’t talk about how I was feeling or when I was heartbroken or depressed or any shit like that. So no, your privilege does not earn you the right to ask me that question.
Eventually they did come around and tried to console me because I was rather hysterical with my crying. I looked disgusting. I felt disgusting. I felt disgusted at myself. One takeaway from the day’s incident was that my brother is an amazing person, who sticks up for me. I love him so much, even if we don’t really get along all the time. Y’all boys will never come close.
My parents (mom especially) were so disapproving of my lifestyle. Heck, which parent would be proud to have a promiscuous child? I can understand their thought process. I don’t really like myself for that either. No more.
It’s still a little awkward for me, especially when they don’t say anything about it anymore. The tension in the air is palpable, but I think everything will be okay. Everything will be okay.
Like I always say, “I’ll always be okay.”
Maybe not now, but one day.