On Queer: On coming out to my dad... sort of

He turns off the radio.

"So... you're gay." It's not exactly a statement, not exactly a question.

My father and I are driving to meet the rest of my family for Thanksgiving dinner.

What surprises me most isn't my father proclaiming my sexuality when I had not told him, but rather that he was defining it when I hadn't even rightly defined it myself. Before leaving for school in August, I had told my mom, "I think I like girls." She asked me if this meant I was gay, and I shrugged. I assume my mother told my father. I had told two of my brothers, but I doubt it was either of them.

So I'm in the front seat of my dad's pickup truck, no music, an hour of road in front of us, an hour of road behind us. I can see his eyes tearing up.

"Yes," I reply simply.

"Okay..." He looks back at the road. "I don't want you to think you can't trust me."

"I know, Dad." I keep staring at him, watching the tears sit in his eyes, refusing to fall. I saw my father cry once when our dog died.

In the car, I felt upset for a reason I couldn't quite identify. It wasn't until several weeks later that I realized what the feeling was: cheated. My sexuality wasn't my father's to tell. It was mine. It was my "secret," so to speak. I hadn't not told my dad because I didn't love him or because I thought he would think any differently of me, but because I wanted it to be in my own words. I'm not sure how I would've told my dad: a formal announcement; a casual tangent ("Oh hey, and ya know my friend Susan? We're dating... like gay... like gay dating... I'm gay"); God forbid he walk in on me doing the do. As I was coming to the realization that I'm not straight, my future was changing in front of me. I couldn't predict where it would go, but at least I could choose how I would tell my parents. But in that moment, I couldn't.

Which is exactly when I realized my father's future was changing, too. Not only was my life reshaping, but the life he had envisioned for me was also reshaping. I can't believe that, of all things, my dad was disappointed that the news didn't come from me. My dad had believed I was telling him everything, and for the most part, I was (minus the kissing girls thing). I had unknowingly, and unintentionally, hurt him. He had hurt me by proclaiming my sexuality unprompted. But such is life. We hurt each other, especially those closest to us, because they mean the most to us. It's all a matter of deciding who is worth hurting for. We find the people that make all the good worth the little bit of bad.

So here we are, almost a full year later. My father told me he thinks my girlfriend is lovely. I think so too.