Today, I had my first of two family Christmas parties. There are a lot of crazy happenings (mostly not so great) going on in my family right now, so it was bound to be an awkward event. All in all, people seemed genuinely happy to be there. We got along, and current issues did not get brought up. Everyone was happy... except for me.
Holidays suck when you're queer.
No, but really.
I've been doing a bit of reading lately about the phenomenon of "minority stress." It's the idea that it's not always big moments of prejudice that cause people to be worn down; on the contrary, it's the little day-to-day things that add up. Today, my tipping point was playing Life.
If you're not familiar with Life (where do you live, under a rock?), it's a board game in which you travel throughout the journey of life. You start by choosing college or career, you eventually get married, buy a house, have kids (if you're lucky), and meet various obstacles and successes along the way.
I played Life with my 2nd grader nephew, my Kindergarten niece, and my father. I agreed to play because I love games. I didn't fully think about what stresses might arise because seriously... who thinks about that when they're going to play a game with their family?
I saw it coming long before it happened: "STOP: Get married." Well, okay, I thought, I'm not quite sure what's going to happen there.
See, when I first came out to my brother and sister-in-law, they made very clear the kids were "too young" to know about my sexuality. That's a topic for another time (though you can guess what camp I'm in), but suffice to say, I had no say about this. It hasn't come up again, and I haven't a clue if they're changed their minds. They certainly haven't given any indication to doing so.
I spun a 7. Well, here goes. I'm at the stop sign. Wait. I know! Dad can decide. He's banker. He looks at me. He looks in the box. I was the last to tie the knot, and he had previously immediately handed the opposite-colored pegs to my niece and nephew when they got married. Okay... What are you going to do? What probably took course over about 2.1 seconds seemed to be paused in time. Finally, he lifts up the box and hands it my way. Seriously? I have to choose? What's the best choice here?
What WAS the best choice there? If I chose pink, I'd be living a lie. If I chose blue, I'd be being honest, but I could get get in trouble with my siblings for bringing it up. Maybe if I chose blue, my nephew would just laugh it off. Or, I could make some comment about not wanting to marry a woman, so I'm traveling around with a friend--but how would that be any less lying?
I chose pink.
And it killed me.
Readers, this may seem like such a small situation. How big a deal is pretending you're marrying a woman for the sake of a board game? But that's just it. My life is not a board game. I should not have to lie to someone about my life--even if he's only 8 years old.
Blue peg, pink peg. Pink peg, blue peg.
My car is two blue pegs. And I'm damn proud of that fact.
-QV
