It Was Like One Slap In My Face After Another... Gay Husbands Go To Red America. [View all]

[DonRedwood]

Last edited Thu Jul 25, 2013, 12:49 AM - Edit history (1)

I did it.

I went to my husband's family reunion and I survived.

I'll admit to you (but didn't to him) that I was terrified. His family are the people who work hard for groups like the Heritage Foundation. They are the people who think my partner and I shouldn't have partnership. They are the people who think gay people should lose their children. They are against gay teachers (hello!). But they invited me and I had to go. One of those times in a relationship when you just bite the bullet for your sweetie.

Four days and nights with them.

And they were very kind. I talked to all of them, we had nice conversations. They've been my in-laws for almost six years (whether they like it or not). It was my first time meeting almost all of them.

And then they had a slide show of all the family. Lots of pictures of every child and grandchildren and at least two or three of their spouses. When it came time for my partner's slides there were lots and lots of his cute kiddie shots. (OMG he was SO CUTE! --there, that's the teenage girl in me coming out). Then finally a few grown up shots of him. Then it cut to his sister and lots of shots of her (newest) husband. And on to the next branch of the family.

And I sat there in the family room, sort of in the front, and I knew that everyone was looking at the back of my head and each and every one of them made note that I was not included in what they would consider the family slide show. OK. That's fine. I can handle that. But my poor partner. I know it hurt him badly. When the ones you love hurt the one you love. Ugh. Poor fellow. Cute as a bug though.

And then they pulled out their new family tree. A big framed thing, quite lovely, with a photo of every member of the family on their branch. Some of these people are on their third marriage so there were lots of kids. And on every branch the current spouse. And alone on his own little twig....my partner. And it was hard to look at him when he saw it. Oh man. I can take it. I kept my smile on and was charming as everyone looked over the family tree and oohed and ahhhhed over the pictures. And, once again, it was very obvious who they considered their real family. Wife number three of one uncle was A-OK. My partner? Only deserved his own twig, I guess that message was pretty clear.

And it hurt to see him take another slap in his face. And he hurt because he felt it was just a big a slap in my face. Two birds with one stone, eh?

And I told him it was OK. I did my best to make him feel better. I told him it was the first step for them and they had invited me. They had sent me a Christmas present. They were doing their best.

I kept to myself that I was furious they would treat my honey like this. I smiled and was charming and I was seething and I was...well...going to smile and take it some more.

And then all the cameras came out and the family pictures started. The grandparents, then with all the aunts and uncles, then all the grand children, and soon it was only the spouses left taking pictures. Then grandpa said, Let's get all the spouses in here. ("Oh Hell!" I thought as I wondered what in the bloody f**k (pardon my British, but those were my exact interior words) I was going to. And the patriarch of the family took care of my indecision for me. "Don, would you do us a favor and take the pictures?" Even a boyfriend of a couple years was invited into the family picture.

And so my partner and all of his family and their children and their spouses, and a boyfriend and everyone they considered family, stood and smiled while I took pictures with everybody's cameras. Eight or nine cameras. Flash flash flash. It took five minutes. Five minutes of them all staring and smiling at me.

And I couldn't look at my partner. I just couldn't see what kind of pain was behind his big smile. I couldn't even look at that side of his family for fear I'd catch his eye. ANd I couldn't look at his parents who have been so kind to me in our two meetings. And I couldn't look at that whole wall of in-laws who were sending me the message.
"You're over there because you aren't one of us." I just kind of blurred my eyes and kept snapping away. God knows if a single picture turned out. I didn't want to look at those faces.

And my poor partner. I have a feeling it will hurt when his mother sends us copies of that family portrait. I am pretty sure it will be put deep in a drawer or maybe will be thrown away. I don't want to ever see it. I don't want to see the look on his face. I don't want to look at the looks on all their faces as they stared and smiled at me.

It was like standing in front of a firing squad but all the shooters were wearing clown make-up. Big huge smiles. Big pirahna smiles that were not meant for me. But smiles that were pretty biting and hurting.

It was awful, and wicked and strange and I felt like I was in a Kubrik movie for a while.

I survived. But it hurt to see my partner hurt. It hurt I couldn't do anything but smile and try to pep talk him. "They're doing their best." "This is a big step for them." I deserve an Oscar as my roll as "man who didn't let anything bother him." I was not going to let those people see my smile falter for one second. Or my husband. I was going to be the rock that stood firm while the water went around me. That is the picture I put in my own head.

But after the family picture I gave up. I just started watching the clock. "We fly out of this hell hole in 12 hours" was my mantra. "Stop hurting my husband" was my inner plea. "Stop stabbing me in the back" was my thought as they offered me cake and thanked me for coming.

But as I told my hubby later. With some people, all you can do is be nice, and charming and show them that what they have heard might not be correct. If they are big enough people to evaluate personal experience against the hate speakers they like to hang around with, so be it. But that's the best we can do.

As I explained it to him: "I think of it sort of like a little Lost in Space Robot in their head, waving its arms around with flashing lights and "Does Not Compute! Does Not Compute!" repeating in robot voice. I've shown you the truth and now you must evaluate your lies.

That, sometimes, is the best you can hope for.

But I'm thankful for my mom who hugs my husband, and loves him, and thinks of him as her other son and sometimes gives him nicer presents at Christmas than I get. At least we have that. And each other.

ANd that DU, was my vacation into Red America.

Oh. And we kissed and held hands in public. Which we've almost never done, ever. Because we had a message for them too.

They aren't going to stop love.

No matter how hard they try.