“I don’t want to stress you out even more,” Chris says, “but I think we should have a plan.”
A plan right now seems like a great idea, whatever will reduce the chance of screwing this up royally. “I’m listening.”
“Okay, check this. Whenever my dad goes into a meeting with a client, he has a set agenda of what he hopes to get out of it. Goals, you know? That way, even if the meeting goes off the rails, he has in the back of his mind what he wants to accomplish, and he can work toward it. Make sense?”
I’m not sure how coming out to my dad is like sealing the deal, but I’m interested to know more. “Go on,” I tell him.
“For instance, other than telling him you’re gay, is there anything you want to accomplish?”
“That’s a pretty big deal.” Let’s hope, given my track record, I can even do that.
“I know it is, but is there anything else you want him to know?”
That’s a good question, and one I haven’t really thought about. “I guess I’d want him to know that our relationship is important to me.”
“That’s good. Then you should probably say it.”
“Maybe I should see how it’s going before I unload my feelings on him.”
“See, here I disagree,” Chris says. “I mean, you’re basically making a pitch—not an investment—but yourself. You want to come out of this meeting with your relationship intact. Why not put it all out there—how you feel, what you want from him, how you’d like your relationship to grow.”
That seems like a lot for one conversation. “Lay it all on the table?”
“Exactly.”
It actually makes a lot of sense, even if the idea of making myself so vulnerable to my dad is terrifying. I’ll show him everything—total honesty—and let him decide how he’s going to take it.
“I don’t want to get angry or emotional or blame him for not being part of my life,” I tell Chris. “I’d like to avoid getting into all that drama, you know? In a way, I’d almost be able to forgive the years of noncommunication if he could just be cool about this one thing.”
Chris nods. “That seems pretty generous of you, but here’s the thing. You can’t really control how your dad will react. You can only do your best in any given situation. That’s why my dad says he doesn’t get mad when he doesn’t close a deal. He only gets mad if he feels he didn’t make the best possible case for the client. So, regardless of outcome, if you make a good pitch, you can be happy with the result.”
“I guess so, but this isn’t some faceless client we’re talking about; it’s my dad.”
“But it’s still all about relationships. Do you have some things worked out you want to say to him? Maybe you could try it out on me.”
It seems like this conversation is all I’ve thought about lately, but I’ve mostly been imagining what my dad will say in reaction to the news and not the way in which I might present it.
“Well, Dad, I’m gay. This hot piece of man right here is my boyfriend. I know it might come as a surprise, but I’m hoping you’re okay with it, because our relationship means a lot to me, and I’d like for us to be closer than we have been in recent years.”
“That’s great,” Chris says with a smile. “But you might just want to call me Chris.Hot piece of man, while true, might be too much for him. I think you should lead with that and then let him have a chance to express himself. Give him, like, five minutes to say everything he wants before interrupting. You want him to feel like he’s been heard.”
“You study psychology this summer?”
“I checked out a lot of coming-out websites in the past couple weeks. Now, do you want me to say anything or just stand there quietly?”
Chris has a tendency to jump in and defend me, which wouldn’t go over well with my dad. I also don’t want my dad blaming Chris or thinking he’s the reason I’m gay.
“Just stand there. If he takes it badly, you saying something will probably only make it worse.”
“Okay, then I think we have a plan.”
Chris’s smile is so positive and hopeful that it almost makes me think everything’s going to be all right. I wish I had a tenth of his confidence. Chris tells me more about what we dubbed his “gaycation” with his dad, and even though he’s not trying, it does make me long for something like that with my own dad. “He wants you to come out with me this summer,” Chris says.
“Really?” I wouldn’t want to intrude on their father-son time.
“Yeah, my dad’s got a ton of miles from work, so you don’t have to worry about the flight. We can just hang out and surf, skate, go to Disneyland, whatever you want.”
I smile at that. In middle school I went with Chris and his family to Orlando to do the circuit of theme parks. It was a blast, and something my mom could have never afforded on her own. Chris made me go on all the roller coasters even though I was scared shitless. Like now, his courage is infectious.
