I came out to my parents on September 13, 2002, mailing a letter to them on the first anniversary of 9/11 (it was a highly-charged time, so it seemed like a good moment to do something personal). Their very first reaction was to tell me that they support me and that they’re driving right away to New York City to give me hugs, but what actually happened was my dad lectured me the whole weekend to my face about why I can’t be gay, why being gay is wrong (he even offered to pay for a hooker if I need to prove to myself that I can like girls…). I mostly just let him say what he wanted to say, while my mom stood by us crying and not saying much.

For a few weeks after that, my parents bombarded me with emails quoting things from anti-gay organizations. Then the emails finally stopped and we never talked about it after that. My parents stopped asking me about girlfriends or anything related to that subject, a silent acknowledgment that what happened happened. A few years later I briefly confessed to my mom (over e-mail) about having broken up with a boyfriend whose mom accepted us being gay and liked me a lot, telling her I wish my parents were like that, but shortly after that the subject was never brought up again.

Four years later, my current boyfriend Alex and I decided to move in together and I knew I wouldn’t want to do that without resurfacing these issues with my parents again. I had been living by myself for a long time and I had no other reason to move in with somebody besides that we were in a relationship and this was a natural progression for us. I had to tell my parents that Alex was my boyfriend and that I’m getting an apartment with my boyfriend.

I was nervous as hell, but I had hints from my mom that things wouldn’t go as badly as they did the first time. By then, I had already talked about Alex a lot with her (he’s a handbag designer and he even got her a free bag from the company he worked at) and once she asked me if he’s “a good boy” in a way that sounded like “is he good to you?” (although that was just me reading into things). My parents were also really into reality tv where over and over they saw people like them rally around gay people and support them (and rally against their anti-gay cast members). My mom even named certain gay people as her favorites (like Will Wikle from Big Brother 5) in a “see, I can like gay people” way (again, me reading into things). People like to disparage the value or quality of reality television, but in my opinion nothing has made the issues that gay people face as clearly and easily accessibly to Middle America as shows like Big Brother and Survivor.

So when Alex and I moved, I sent my parents an email with my new address, explaining to them that we’ve been together for four years and this was the next step in our relationship. My mom called me pretty quickly after that and I forget what the first thing she said was, but she was extremely supportive! She went right into asking questions about Alex’s grandparents (cause he had been living with them before, so she was worried how they reacted) and if our dog Miki (who she loves like a grandchild) was happy and had enough room, what our apartment was like, if it was close to work. It was really amazing to be able to talk about those things with her, about Alex, and have her know that he’s somebody I love and he’s not just a friend.

To varying degrees, every gay person is broken by the experiences they’ve had on their way to coming out. We’re broken when we get mistreated as children for being different than other kids, we’re broken during the difficult time of pre-adolescence when our sexual urges are kicking in and we’ve been told same-sex urges are not OK, we’re broken when we can’t start relationships the way every teenager can with the support of our peers and families (or even the same tough love of a father not wanting his daughter to date too soon), we’re broken when we’re confronted with lost friendships and hostility in our communities (and government) with regards to our relationships and starting our own families.

Ultimately we have to find the strength within ourselves to be OK with who we are, and surround ourselves with people that have our support. But no matter how OK I might think I am with being gay, steps like this one that I took with my parents feel like another piece coming back together again, like I’ve entered a new level of gayhood, one I didn’t realize existed.

A few months ago my mom met Alex and we had dinner together. All three of us were nervous and a little awkward, but it was great. My mom bought Alex a big cooking pot as a gift because she knew he likes to cook. When she went to Poland, she asked what size slippers Alex wore so she could buy him these traditional Polish slippers. When we had problems with our landlord, she suggested that Alex and I should consider buying an apartment together! One time before that she sent me an email out of the blew saying that I should be careful with us sharing our finances, because I never know where things will end up. OK, that’s not exactly positive but it’s relationship advice from my mother! It’s amazing for us to be at this place right now, something I hadn’t imagined back in 2002.