Getting the phone call that my grandpa had been hospitalized in the intensive care unit this last week was scary—obviously—but what was even scarier for me was that this was the first time I would see my extended family after coming out. I'm still trying to get a feel for living at home again with my parents after telling them I was gay and now I had to reveal my secrets to my aunts and uncle and grandparents and cousins and I honestly didn't think I could handle that.
At this point, everyone already knew that I was out of the closet. That cat was out of the bag, but in my experience, the awkward phase is the one that follows, when questions of your dating life start coming out, and whether you're even still human or not. You get the looks of "you're different than me and I'm not sure how I feel about that." Trust me, I've already dealt with all of this. But it's different when it's family, and to tell you the honest truth, I was terrified.
When I got word to pack a bag last Monday, I was immediately haunted with the most irrelevant concerns. Thoughts like "what can I wear that doesn't look like I'm gay?" or "my KJP bracelet is pink. What will people say?" crept into my mind and wouldn't let go. All during the car ride, I kept telling myself that they're my family, and they won't care. But because I'm me, I'm constantly jacking up the paranoia level to a 13 out of 10. While I was driving to Salt Lake, my mom probably thought I was worrying about grandpa when actually I was more worried about myself (What can I say, I'm a narcissist; my mom even said so... jokingly, but still).
The first day of hospital visits was like treading on eggshells. I tried to keep the mood light with jokes and light humour to hide my tracks. No one said anything, so I started to stop worrying a little bit. It wasn't until my aunts started asking about everyone's dating lives that I really started to feel the awkwardness arising. I'm sure it was just awkward for me, but that didn't stop my emotions and thoughts from going completely out of whack. This was because no one asked me about my dating life (which is nonexistent at the moment, in case you were curious), which I'm sure was completely unintentional and I don't take offense or anything, but I still felt weird about it. In my mind, it was because no one wanted to bring up a taboo subject and I can understand why, but at the time, I honestly felt alienated a little bit.
It wasn't until the third day of visits that I really felt like a human being. My grandfather was finally feeling infinitely better and pieces were finally starting to fall into place with the family situation. During a quick lunch break that afternoon, my uncle leans over and finally touches on the elephant in the room. He asked me how I was taking being home after everything that had happened the last few months. I told him it was harder on me than anyone (because it has been, honestly). And then he said something that will probably stay with me forever: "You know, I like the gay Colton. He's funny and smart and kind."
And it clicked for me. I don't need to be fake with my family. I'm not fake with anyone else, so why do I feel the need to keep up this façade for them? I am who I am, and I know that they accept me. I chose to feel divided from them, and I tried to keep myself sealed off simply because I believed in the worst case scenario. They love me, and it took a lot for me to remember that.
I'm still adapting to this new life, and it's taking a lot to remind myself that I'm still the same person I always was. Yes, I've had to deal with people that do not support my lifestyle, but my family are not those people. They love me for me, not for my decisions. When I doubt that, I just need to remember that one sentence: "I like the gay Colton." And you know what? I really do.
