Being Comfortable Isn't a Requirement
But acceptance is
I hadn’t seen my good friend for a while and it was nice to just do what we’d done so often in high school - hang out and talk. Our paths diverged when our choices for college took us to different parts of the state. We were both spending our time building new friendships, learning, and living. And, of course, we were coming to grips with who we were as people once we left the shelter and community of our families.
We did pass a couple of letters back and forth during the school year, but it is fair to say that it wasn’t a perfect substitute for face to face conversation. Phone calls were mostly out of the question because long distance was an expense that could break a college student’s fragile budget.
I realize that some of you are now distracted by my references to letters (sent via the US Postal Service) and long-distance calls (not texts, emails, or calls to the cell phone). And that’s fine with me because they emphasize that this happened at a time that was different from the present. A time when certain things were harder to do or be than they have been in the last decade.
Well, that was true until recent political movements set us back.
“I have something important I wanted to tell you and I hope you’re not angry with me.”
Those words came out of my friend’s mouth - or maybe they were something very like these because my memory of the exact words have left me. But the importance of that moment is still very alive in my brain. And, to be perfectly candid, I am certain that this turning point was more important and difficult for him than it was for me.
“I’m gay.”
I remember the jumble of feelings and thoughts that immediately filled my head. This was not the comfortable (and comforting) banter and conversation we usually engaged in. Sure, we’d had plenty of deep discussions about a wide range of topics. I don’t think you can be a friend in high school without having moments where things got intense. But this was different.
I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable as I processed the meaning of two words.
I recall feeling startled because this was something that had been “out there” but not “right here,” if you know what I mean. I understood that homosexuality existed, but I had never had to confront it directly before. For my part, I was most certainly interested in girls, so I’d given it very little personal thought. But now, suddenly, it was a very real thing that was hitting very close to home.
There was a moment of fear because I was not deaf and blind to the rest of the world. I heard the harsh words and witnessed aggressive attitudes towards the very idea of homosexuality from my peers and members of the community.(1) I was certainly aware of the larger conversations on the topic and I knew that many people and groups condemned gays and lesbians as the vilest of sinners (newsflash - we’re all vile sinners, get over it). I could sense that being gay was very dangerous(2) and it was only getting worse.(3) Therefore, being associated with someone who is gay could certainly imply my own guilt by association. To my credit, any fear I had for myself was discarded with only the tiniest consideration, but the concern for my friend continues to this day.
I experienced a tiny flash of anger that resolved itself almost as soon as it appeared. A trusted individual had apparently been “lying” to me about who he was. No, it wasn’t fair to feel this way, but it was normal. I wasn’t as upset that he was gay as I was that he hadn’t told me sooner. The anger was directed at both of us. Him for not saying something and me for not giving the right signal that it was okay to do so. It certainly didn’t occur to me at the time that I should consider how long it took to come to peace with it himself. And it didn’t take me long to realize disclosing this was entirely his choice - this information was not, and had never been, required for us to be friends.
And finally, there was relief as various moments of dissonance - times and events where things seemed a bit odd between the two of us - shifted into place and made perfect sense. These were times where our perspectives, partially molded by our sexual orientations, were not in sync. The reason for that dissonance was now clear to me and seeds of understanding began to take root.
“It’s okay. That doesn’t matter to me. You’re my friend.”
“Good. I was pretty sure you’d feel that way.”
I did not handle this exchange perfectly. I am absolutely positive about that. I could have offered more support or asked more questions. Or maybe I could have listened better. I don’t know. It’s pretty hard to expect perfection when you’re a novice and you are human.
I do know that I handled it honestly and I meant what I said. It was okay. He was (and still is) my friend. We were going to have to work through some adjustments. But that’s also normal when something with that much emotional baggage falls off the luggage rack and into your world.
I have wondered, on and off over the years, how difficult this must have been for him. That is not my story to tell, but I can guess that he had discovered and accepted that he was gay in high school but was still working on building the strength to “come out” to others and share an important part of what made him who he was and is.
Even today, I am awed by the strength this person had and has, and I am honored that I was important enough that he included me in his journey.
But even more important, he indicated to me that I was strong enough to be uncomfortable and then…
Accept and overcome it.
The river of time has been floating us down different channels of the stream since the day my friend came out. Periodically we come within shouting distance and make some contact, but one or the other of us gets whipped away by the reality of our own lives. For my part, I still consider him a friend, even if we don’t have opportunities to hang out and talk about music or stuff in general like we used to.
Today, I am happy to say that I have had the good fortune to meet many other amazing and wonderful people who identify their gender and/or sexual preferences in ways that are different than how I see it. Even so, I will openly admit that I still have moments of discomfort with the ideas of someone being transgender or two men being married.
And you know what? That’s okay. It is not required that I be fully comfortable with something that I am not wired to understand. It’s entirely possible (though I’ll leave it for him to say) that my friend isn’t entirely comfortable with the idea that I am attracted to women (one in particular). After all, he isn’t, so why should it make sense to him? Why should he accept my preference and have no struggle or discomfort in understanding it?
The difference is that he and I have a lifetime of societal programming that says my attraction is acceptable and his is not. Since I fit the narrative of normal, it is going to be harder for me to understand and accept other narratives. Because he’s been inundated with the heterosexual norm, it’s probably not as hard for him to accept where I fall. He’s had little choice in the matter.
But I have a choice. I choose to accept and deal with my discomfort.
If you have stayed with me through this piece this far, I thank you. Because this is where I offer the brightest ray of sunshine I can offer by starting with a question - something I do far too often when people ask my opinion.
Why was it actually fairly easy (in the grand scheme of things) for me to accept that my friend was gay?
Even though it was something I had been taught was wrong and the pressures from society encouraged me to condemn him.
Even though I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.
It wasn’t all that hard because this person is more than just a gay man. Gay is only one word of a much longer description that makes up the whole of him. I knew that then and I know it now. I accept the whole person because they are worthy of it. And they are no less worthy because they are gay, or lesbian, or transgender, or even heterosexual.
Accept good people and good friends for who they are first. If they happen to have a different orientation or identification than the societal “norm,” they deserve and need our support right now because they are being threatened. My friend… my friends. Are being bullied and that isn’t right.
We can work on our own personal comfort levels as we go.
(1) Greer, William R., “Violence Against Homosexuals Rising…”, November 23, 1986, New York Times, page 36.
(2) Hays, Constance L., “2 Men Beaten by 6 Youths Yelling ‘Fags’,” August 24, 1988, New York Times, page 27.
(3) Hays, Constance L., “Anti-Gay Attacks Increase and Some Fight Back,” September 3, 1990, page 23.
Good for both you and your friend -- you, Rob, for being approachable for him to share, and him for being brave and willing to test the bounds of your friendship. I (of course) think of it as a Venn diagram: If I restrict my friendships to the small, tight overlapping region -- those traits I only share with others -- I miss a lot of opportunities to grow friendships; if I broaden beyond that, I meet a host of interesting people, with whom, it turns out, I have much in common. As always, thanks, Rob.