Throwing It in their Faces

Throwing It in their Faces

Not long ago, we had dinner with two of our best friends: a stable, level-headed same-sex couple. Despite having been together for almost ten years, they’ve never once acknowledged or admitted their relationship to the younger partner’s parents.

“If they want to know, they’ll ask,” our friends said. “There’s no need to throw it in their faces.”

Over the past two weeks, another good friend has repeatedly and enthusiastically invited us to visit Pinelake — her new church of choice. Before investing my time and energy in the church, I dropped them a note describing my background and asking, “What’s your stance on same-sex couples?”

Another friend — a young gay man I admire — responded to the news of my letter with exasperation. “I’m just going to church there,” he said. “There’s no need to tell them I’m gay. I don’t see the point of throwing it in their faces.”

This approach to life imagines that there are only two choices for gay people:

1) Make the most important relationships in our lives a secret, guarded at all costs from the people we love, work with, and meet each day, or

2) Assault others with the truth about ourselves and our relationships by aggressively flaunting our homosexuality.

In other words: this approach — “There’s no need to throw it in their faces!” — promotes secrecy, deceit, and lying as the honorable choice … and positions honesty as a violent, confrontational act.

I confess such an approach to life puzzles and exasperates me.

When a straight, married man mentions his wife to me, is he throwing her in my face? When a straight, married man introduces his wife to his mother, is he throwing her in his Momma’s face? When a straight, married man wants to join a church with his wife by his side, is he throwing her in the congregation’s face?

For that matter, how would we feel about a straight, married man who never, ever mentioned his wife at work — or who even went to great lengths to convince his co-workers that he was still single? How would we feel about a straight, married man who concealed his marriage from his mother for a decade or more? How would we feel about a straight, married man who joined a church … and acted as though his wife — the love of his life, the most important person in his world — were merely a casual acquaintance?

If folks don’t want to be honest with family and friends about who they are, that’s certainly their option. I would invite them, however, to at least be honest about the real motivation behind their choice: fear.

The sentiment, “I’m afraid of telling my mother about my relationship, because I think she’d never speak to me again,” is, at least, an honest sentiment.

The sentiment, “I’m afraid to tell my boss that I’m gay, because I think he’d fire me,” is, at least, an honest sentiment.

The sentiment, “I’m afraid to tell people at my church that I’m gay, because I think they’d throw me out,” is, at least, an honest sentiment.

Of course, asking for this kind of honesty is asking a lot from people who have convinced themselves that simply being honest is an act of violence.

Not long ago, we had dinner with two of our best friends: a stable, level-headed same-sex couple. Despite having been together for almost ten years, they’ve never once acknowledged or admitted their relationship to the younger partner’s parents.

“If they want to know, they’ll ask,” our friends said. “There’s no need to throw it in their faces.”

Over the past two weeks, another good friend has repeatedly and enthusiastically invited us to visit Pinelake — her new church of choice. Before investing my time and energy in the church, I dropped them a note describing my background and asking, “What’s your stance on same-sex couples?”

Another friend — a young gay man I admire — responded to the news of my letter with exasperation. “I’m just going to church there,” he said. “There’s no need to tell them I’m gay. I don’t see the point of throwing it in their faces.”

This approach to life imagines that there are only two choices for gay people:

1) Make the most important relationships in our lives a secret, guarded at all costs from the people we love, work with, and meet each day, or

2) Assault others with the truth about ourselves and our relationships by aggressively flaunting our homosexuality.

In other words: this approach — “There’s no need to throw it in their faces!” — promotes secrecy, deceit, and lying as the honorable choice … and positions honesty as a violent, confrontational act.

I confess such an approach to life puzzles and exasperates me.

When a straight, married man mentions his wife to me, is he throwing her in my face? When a straight, married man introduces his wife to his mother, is he throwing her in his Momma’s face? When a straight, married man wants to join a church with his wife by his side, is he throwing her in the congregation’s face?

For that matter, how would we feel about a straight, married man who never, ever mentioned his wife at work — or who even went to great lengths to convince his co-workers that he was still single? How would we feel about a straight, married man who concealed his marriage from his mother for a decade or more? How would we feel about a straight, married man who joined a church … and acted as though his wife — the love of his life, the most important person in his world — were merely a casual acquaintance?

If folks don’t want to be honest with family and friends about who they are, that’s certainly their option. I would invite them, however, to at least be honest about the real motivation behind their choice: fear.

The sentiment, “I’m afraid of telling my mother about my relationship, because I think she’d never speak to me again,” is, at least, an honest sentiment.

The sentiment, “I’m afraid to tell my boss that I’m gay, because I think he’d fire me,” is, at least, an honest sentiment.

The sentiment, “I’m afraid to tell people at my church that I’m gay, because I think they’d throw me out,” is, at least, an honest sentiment.

Of course, asking for this kind of honesty is asking a lot from people who have convinced themselves that simply being honest is an act of violence.

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

Add comment

Who Wrote This?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

Worth a Look