Response to “Reflections from an Only Child”
I am a 34 year old gay in Singapore. I am in a close to 2-year old long-distance relationship. This is my experience, but instead of launching into it full, I will respond to the blog post paragraph by paragraph.
I am male, in my early 30s, gay and I am an only child. Much like any other parents, my parents wish that I can find a wife and settle down and have kids soon. I have not out-ed myself to them, but they have caught me watching gay porn at least twice before and have given me questioning looks whenever I dress myself in bright colours and short shorts before going out – so I think they at least suspect that I am gay. They have also stopped asking me since a few years ago whether I have found a girlfriend, so that is another indication. But I know that deep down they are still hanging on to any hope – no matter how small – that I am straight and will get married and have children.
I am in my early 30s too but I am not the only child as I have one elder brother who is married with 2 kids. I was pressured into coming out to my parents in 2011. The details of how and why I came out are unimportant - but what is important is there came a point in 2011 when I had to choose between two lives. One led down a path of never-ending lame excuses, lies, deceit, tortuous and contorted explanations, half-truths to my family. The other was being uncomplicated and honest. I chose the latter because I was very, very, VERY, tired of the former. Keeping up the charade is an exhausting business - you probably know this all too well. Even before I took the plunge, I was beset with doubts - is this the right time? are they going to throw me out? - so I asked myself again, what if I choose to keep it under wraps now, wait until I am more prepared? The honest reply in my head was, I had already wasted / spent 30 years preparing. Could I afford to waste any more? The answer was a tired, defeated, NO. So I came out. They were devastated, their worst fears had been confirmed. That was when the moralising began, and I had to keep arguing with them using reason, questioning all the beliefs they held so dear.
This is the first truth about coming out - it forces you to question who / what forms a family, or flesh and blood. You will stop talking to some of them because you can't stand their attitude or sneering looks - no love lost here. Some of the most traditional - and humble - relatives will surprise you with their support - they get it, this makes you happy, they understand the simplicity of happiness, YAY! Some of the most educated people will shock you with their ignorance of basic facts. You will start to question who really has your best interests at heart, and who is more concerned about their reputations. I know of no other pivotal experience in my life that separates the wheat from the chaff better.
I can see in their eyes a growing worry and a silent disappointment that they would never be able to help raise a grandchild. During Chinese New Year visits and gatherings of my extended family, I can acutely feel their embarrassment when my relatives ask whether I have found a girlfriend. And as the only child, I have always felt my parents’ putting all their hopes of extending the family lineage on me. All these have been making me feel guilty and helpless that, short of entering a sham marriage with a woman, there seems to be nothing I can do.
My parents were first worried I will get AIDS. When I assured them I know how to use protection, they grew worried I will have more sex. When I told them I very seldom have dates, but I hope to have a boyfriend who can make me happy, and who knows, maybe even adopt a kid one day, they looked horrified. "We don't want all these", became an all too familiar refrain. So when I asked, what other choice I had since marrying a girl is clearly out of the question?, they could only glare at me obstinately at me in silence. That silence was more worrying to me because clearly, it implied only 2 options:
1) I "stop" all this gay nonsense and marry a girl in a sham marriage that was sure to end in divorce
2) I remain single and keep everything gay a "secret" till both of them pass away, afterwhich I was free to do as I please (since they would be dead and quite unable to do much about it)
To the OP, I may not be an only child, yet I knew my parents were pinning all their hopes on one of the above choices. Yes, it made me feel guilty. But after sometime, I pitied them because they simply could not imagine anything good happening outside of their narrow worldview. Pity for them turned to self-pity, which in turn morphed into a wake-up call to a second truth:
Coming out means forcing yourself to think of your own welfare. My parents can only envision such a bleak existence for their son, because they know of nothing else, they have been shaped by totally different eras and traditions. I have better dreams for myself. If other people's dreams for you don't measure up to your expectations, you don't need to feel guilty about rejecting them. But if you sacrifice your dreams for some pathetic shadow of an existence just for filial piety, your parents will not feel guilty - YOU WILL. No good parent will want their only child to live a life of regrets.
I had been using my studies and then my work to help dismiss that expectation that I will find a girlfriend and settle down. It used to be quite reasonable to reply that you were focusing on your studies or career when you were asked about your relationship status. But when you reach your early 30s, when you are starting to establish yourself in your career and when many of your straight peers are settling down and starting their families, that sidestep reply begins to ring hollow. And even without these noises from others, even when you deliberately occupy your mind with studies or work during the day, as you lay yourself to sleep in the quietest of the night, the internal guilt that I would not be getting married and bearing grandchildren for my parents – in the way that straight people do – sounds only louder.
Yes, we all use the studies and career excuse to fend off nosy-parkers. Once you come out, there will be no need for excuses. When I did eventually find my boy, I knew he was the one I wanted to be with. It was easier to tell my parents about him since I had kept prodding them over 2-3 years with questions like, "How would you feel if I brought a boyfriend home? Will you accept?" They would always resist and argue about how it was impossible for 2 men to be together. They say practice makes perfect. In my case, practice made me more blase. I just declared, point-blank two years ago, I had met someone very special, who I think can be my partner for life. Their reaction, while predictable, was not encouraging. They both started asking what to tell the neighbours and relatives - SUCH REPUTATION, VERY CONCERN - what would dead grandparents say? - lucky they are dead.
It is easy for my parents to lay a guilt-trip on me like this, but I have grown quite immune to it. I have visited my boyfriend three times in 2 years. He lives away from family and, is not close to them. He has come to Singapore once but fearing my parents' rude, unfriendly behaviour, I decided not to introduce him to them. I notice every time I fly-off to meet him, my parents seem more and more resigned to the new reality. They don't bug me so much - which does help keep the peace. I don't believe for a second they have accepted me as their gay son. But I do think they now realise their son is very determined to live a happy life.
Despite all these, I do hope for and imagine a better future.
I want to see the day when my parents accept that I will not be like other people, getting married, having kids and all – and yet see that I am still the filial son they have always loved. I wish for a future where even as they grow older and their siblings have grandchildren to play with and boast about, they can still live a respected life without envy and loss of face in front of relatives. And as my boyfriend and I begin planning for a joint life together, I now hope that my parents will accept him into our family and allow him to love them, just as I have.
When I came out over 4 years ago, I was hopeful that over time, they would come to understand and accept that homosexuality was normal and had some unalterable biological cause. After over 4 years, I no longer hope to change minds. This might be a bitter pill to swallow but, I have accepted their acceptance / rejection of my homosexuality and my boyfriend is NOT WITHIN MY CONTROL. However, how I choose to react to their attitude IS in my control.
In my case, I have chosen to further my studies with my boyfriend overseas. We've both gotten into our universities and will live and study together for 2 years. I choose to take my chance at happiness and see where it leads me. While my parents are sad that I am leaving and keep pestering me to come back, I made it very clear I will try my best to find a job overseas first, and if the country offers us the chance to register as partners or get married, we will likely take it. My parents start to see I have some direction in my life, and I am finally making some "adultish" decisions - they grudgingly respect this. It also dawned on them that the country I am moving to offers me some "hope" - a "hope" that Singapore, and its society, including my own family can never give me - and that is a big motive to leave.
To the OP, I understand the idealism behind your imagined future. I used to think that way too until reality gave me a good kick up the ass. Judging from the few comments you made about your parents' reactions though, I think they may be more open to you coming-out. They may even be waiting for you to say something. I am glad you have plans to start living with your boy - so plan with him, and take some concrete steps towards that goal. Nothing drives out those pesky feelings of guilt, self-hate and anxiety, than concrete actions and a Plan B, or C :) I wish you all the best in your life.
