So, last night my five-year-old was overheard in conversation with his four-year-old brother. It was a “coming out” of sorts. I was sitting in the living room and eavesdropping on Paris telling Bristol that he (Paris) was gay. I became more entertained and listened as closely as I could. Bristol asked what “gay” meant and Paris said, “It’s when boys like boys and girls like girls.” Bristol seemed to not really care about the conversation and really wasn’t interested in hearing about it. His response was “Ok” to basically everything Paris said. Paris said, “Bristol, I’m gay. I like boys.” Again, Bristol, “Ok”.
I called Paris in to talk to me and I asked him what I was overhearing and I wanted him to explain what he was talking about. He said, “Mom, I am gay.” I asked how he knew what “gay” meant and Paris said someone on the bus told him that he was. I told Paris that just because someone said you were that, it didn’t mean it was true. Paris’s reply was simple, “Mom, I know I am gay. I like boys.” I told Paris that it was normal to like boys and girls both. This turned into a long conversation of me trying to tell Paris that he wasn’t gay and him arguing his point that he was. I really felt like I was talking to an adult, it was quite odd. I asked him, “In what ways do you like boys?” and he replied with, “I want to walk with them, grow old with them, buy Halloween stuff with them, go shopping with them, have a dog together…” etc. Paris then said, “Maybe he would have to wear a wig and makeup sometimes because it would be better.” My son already understood that gays are not accepted and he was preparing himself for how he had to be seen!!
After talking to Paris, I had thoughts running through my head. I looked back on all of the times I told someone that Paris would be gay. Random things came to mind that he does… I began listing them.
-He always asks me if I will let him do my hair and makeup. He’s like my own personal assistant.
-He chooses my clothes and will argue with me! This morning when I got dressed he told me that I should unbutton by sweater because I had too much “pounds” and it looked “bunchy”.
-He is completely loving and sweet and can melt any girl’s heart with just one dimpled smile. A typical stereotype of any gay man is that he is every girl’s best friend and always the best guy.
-He will go out of his way to help anyone and give comfort. He’ll sit for an hour and rub my feet or my back just to make me feel “good”. Sometimes if I am having a bad day he will just come up and automatically start rubbing my feet and talking to me in a soothing voice.
-His best friend quit “being his best friend” when he accused him of being gay because Paris was always touching him and asking to rub his back.
-He likes to carry a purse. Not a “man bag” but a purse.
-He goes around the house asking people if he can cut their fingernails.
-He has terrible OCD and becomes upset and almost frantic if anything changes.
-He cries, A LOT. Over everything imaginable. There is nothing that does not touch this child in some way. His heart is so full of love and compassion.
I instantly turn to blaming myself for the possibility of him being gay, and that list grows in my mind.
-I love the sausage. Maybe I had sex too much when I was pregnant with him. He got poked in the face one too many times by a wiener. I made him gay by me liking men.
-I named him Paris. I did give him a family name that meant very much to me, but I gave him a girl’s name and made him gay.
-I let him put powder on my face once and that made him gay.
-I always told people that he would be gay and therefore, I made him gay.
-I taught him love and compassion for everyone but I taught him so much that I turned him gay.
-I taught him the importance of color coordination and accessories in his wardrobe. Obviously by doing that, I made him gay.
-I failed to attend church every day and so he did not learn the distinction that homosexuality is a sin and being straight is the way, so I made him gay.
-I should have prevented him from listening to Michael Buble. When I realized his favorite song was “Home” and he would sing along at 3 years old, I should have cut him off but instead I made him gay.
-I didn’t smack his older brother every time he referred to something as being “gay”. Paris learned to like the word and become it, so I made him gay.
-I shouldn’t have left my purses lying around. By letting him see them, I made him gay.
After I continued my list silently in my head, I came to terms with the fact that my son could possibly be gay. But you know what? I don’t care. I didn’t do something to make him the way he is. I raised him exactly like my other two children and they don’t have his tendencies. He was born this way, there was not some event in his life, no traumatic experience that changed him. He’s just exactly what he is supposed to be. He is my son and I love him no matter what sexual preference he may have. I know that his life may not be easy because of how our society is. I know that people close to him will shun him when they hear the news, people will run through those same lists that I did, in an attempt to place blame somewhere… I know all of this. While the gay community is making strides in acceptance there is still a long way to go. As long as people chose to ignore the fact that we are all individuals and all make different choices, this world will be at odds. It’s acceptable and encouraged for 2 women to “make out” for the pleasure of a man but that same man is also the first person to shout words like “faggot” and “homo” when he sees 2 gay men walking together. It’s completely ridiculous and I won’t tolerate it. My son is an exceptional example of a human that God created. He is kind, considerate, compassionate, understanding, loving and quite possibly… gay. And frankly, I don’t give a damn.
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