When Did You Know Your Parents Cared About the Real You?
I wasn't expecting to be without a boyfriend. The "guy-atus" or "man-cation" just seemed to be the natural break I needed. My serial monogamist card expired and I wasn't sure whether or not to renew it. I was due for a period without male companionship to self-reflect. Maybe "love" wasn't my thing.
Except I wasn't counting on my parents’ reaction to the pause I was taking.
The last time my folks thought about fixing me up I was in high school. But I wasn't appreciative of their meddlesome ways. Although I should have listened to my dad's suggestion that I date the salutatorian of my graduating class. It didn't make any difference to my father if he had any interest in me. Years later, that guy made a bundle as part of the MIT Blackjack crew!
This go-around, my dad initiated a meet and greet at the bowling alley in his retirement community. Most Sundays my parents and their friends play a few games then go have brunch. It was in the car that I heard the spiel from Dad, "He's about your age, never married, lives in Washington DC [note, I live in NY], and works in computers." My mother was silent. And then he added, "The parents are great, very smart, very good looking." If there was a thought bubble above my father's cartoonish head, it would also say, "Besides Mom and I enjoy spending time with them. Do it for us." Of course, my mother avoided eye contact.
"Sure Dad," I said. My brother Ben snorted from the backseat of the car.
The bowling turned out to be fun. Yet, alas, no love connection. After eyeballing the potential suitor, the best compliment my father could muster in private was, "He's got nice calves." Mom was incredibly apologetic.
Months later I found myself again in the bowling alley. That time I was standing with a group of women waiting my turn. An elderly gentleman approached me and my mother introduced us. Since I can't recall his name, let's call him Mr. Ramos.
"So you live in New York?" Mr. Ramos asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"I have a daughter about your age. She's in New York too," he continued.
"That's great," I said.
Then he looked me in the eye and, without blinking, Mr. Ramos said, "And she doesn't like the men."
Usually my face reveals my emotions. But I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I replied, "That's nice. But I like men."
I waited for a few minutes before I walked over and stood next to my father at the bowling alley bar.
"Dad you know I'm not a lesbian. Right?" I wasn't mad. In fact, his concern for me to be in a happy relationship was sweet.
He hemmed a little bit and then said, "Uh yeah. I didn't think so. You had a husband and a lot of boyfriends. Just wanted to be sure."
"Ok, thanks." And I kissed him on the cheek.
We've never had a conversation about sexuality prior or subsequent to that conversation, but it is nice to know that my folks have my back.
