I never really confided in my family about whom I dated. My attitude towards dating was nothing like my parents’. I saw dating as a series of experiments that eventually lead to something amazing or absolutely nothing. My parents, on the other hand, moved in together on their second date and didn’t approve of me dating anyone who wasn’t a potential marriage prospect for me. So to avoid conflict I just didn’t talk to them about whom I was dating. I figured if my feelings for someone ever stuck then I would tell my parents. I don’t like most people so I thought I was pretty safe from having that “I’m a lesbian” talk.

 I did try dating men. I dated guys who shared my interest in comics and gaming. But despite those interests, dating men just didn’t feel right. Eventually it got to the point to where I went to liquor to try to ease the discordant feelings that I had about dating these men. And eventually they would get frustrated and move on to more traditional women.

I really didn’t believe in romantic love and saw it as something that people made up to sell candy hearts. I had a series of deep almost romantic friendships with women and just thought of sex as this product I needed to outsource. I got love and companionship from these women I called my friends and I had a few online dating profiles for hookups.

 I found the woman who ended up being my first significant relationship on one of those sites. I was attracted to her warm smile and her beautiful, brown eyes. I messaged her and we got along. I told her about a recent French cooking class I had taken and she mostly talked to me about softball. We texted for a few days and started flirting so I asked her out. We met for pizza, went back to her apartment, and had sex. Nothing really seemed that different from any other “date” except when she kissed me, like, really kissed me. Not just the typical her mouth just kind of found mine while we had sex type of kiss. She kissed me and made me engage back in the kiss. I remember being frightened by her intensity and wondering what her angle was. At the end of the “date” I got dressed and she actually walked me to my car and when I drove away I caught her watching me leave. It gave me this awkward, warm feeling.

 She texted me the next day and the following day. I ignored both. I continued to ignore her for more than a week. But one night I got drunk and when she called I picked up the phone. I honestly was hoping for some more sex but instead we talked for hours and she asked me out again. We rented movies and cuddled on the couch. I ended up staying longer than I expected and she lent me her hoodie. I had never just spent time with someone I had sex with.

 I continued seeing her and one day in conversation it came up that I was still closeted to my family. She convinced me it was hurting my relationship with my family, which was completely valid. She also told me she really liked me and wanted to know how I felt. I tried at first giving a vague answer because I had no idea how to describe my feelings. No one had ever asked me this question. I stumbled a bit, but I told her how I felt despite nearly having a panic attack in the process. She wasn’t mean or freaked out by me being terrified about talking about my feelings. I had never felt so accepted. I had never liked someone this much. People in my life were starting to notice me smiling and blushing at my phone when she texted. I told my close friends and younger brother about my budding romance. I even introduced her to my friends and they approved of her and this new, more cheerful version of me.

***

After we had been dating for a while I finally decided it was time to tell my parents. I typically have Sunday dinner at my mom so I figured that would be the perfect time to tell her. My mom began to grill me on the way to pick up burritos about my new cheerful mood the past few weeks and I realized I didn’t want to continue lying through omission. So I offered to pay for dinner and after my Mom got done eating I told her I was seeing someone and that someone was a woman. I figured she would be less upset with me if she had eaten first. I think I was right, but she still took it hard. She was shocked and got really quiet. She told me I needed to tell my father privately. I picked a day and time she wouldn’t be home and surprised my father with Zaxby’s. He knew something was up because my mother had been acting mad and wouldn’t talk to him about what was troubling her. So I went ahead and told him I was a lesbian and his response was, “That’s such a relief. I thought you wanted to borrow money,” which went a lot better than I had expected. So basically, I think most people should come out to their parents with food. Who can be mad while you’re holding a burrito?

-Anonymous