My Friend Outed Me to Her Conservative Parents

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Dear James,

A few months ago, I came out to my high-school friend group as bisexual. They were supportive and appreciated my request to keep it on the down-low. (It’s not that I’m ashamed; I just don’t think my sexuality defines my identity, and we live in a conservative area.) Here’s the problem: One of my friends and I recently made plans to hang out, but the day before we were set to meet, she told me her parents had said no. I could tell she was hiding something. When I pressed her on it, she confessed that she had told her parents, who are Christian and very conservative, that I was bi. Now her parents won’t let us hang out, because they think that I’m a “bad influence.” The ironic part is that I’m a religious person—I consider being Christian a bigger part of my identity than being bisexual—yet her parents are ignoring this.

Complicating matters is that this friend and I are on a competitive team together at school, and her parents are closely involved. But now they avoid talking to me. I’ve told my friend that her parents’ treatment of me hurts. I’ve also told her that I wish I could say to them, “Listen, I know I’m gay and you don’t like that, but please, let’s set aside my sexuality and discuss what we need to do for the team.” But my friend says that if I were to say this, it would wreck her relationship with her parents. I can’t help thinking that this would be her own fault—after all, she outed me to them. Am I overreacting? What should I do?

Dear Reader,

On behalf of adults everywhere, I apologize for the behavior of your friend’s parents. That they are clearly marooned at an undeveloped level of consciousness is no excuse at all. You are showing a great deal more maturity, not to mention concern for their daughter’s feelings, than they are.

I think you should do whatever your instincts tell you: If you feel that a direct conversation with your friend’s parents would clear the air and improve the atmosphere around your competitive tournaments, go for it. The surer and steadier course, perhaps, is to rise above: to not blow up; to get on with it; to continue to treat these parents as if they are grown-ups; to ignore their pettiness and discomfort; to basically give them a model of responsible, charitable personhood that one day, one day, in the recesses of their currently benighted conscience, might spark a reaction and snap them out of it. And if it doesn’t, that’s their problem, and their loss—not yours.

As for your friend, she has let you down badly. But God knows what it’s like for her at home. Stick with her if you can. This is how real friendships get made.

Good luck,

James

Dear James,

A year and a half ago, my wife told me that she had cheated on me 10 years earlier. It was a one-night stand during a work trip with a colleague. They stayed in touch for years afterward, and he made further advances that she politely, if flirtatiously, declined (I’ve seen the DMs). We were in marriage counseling for two and a half years before this ever came out. During that time, I asked her, on a couple of occasions, if she had ever been unfaithful. Each time, she looked me in the eye and said no. We’ve done more counseling since The Revelation and are in a good place—more than a good place. This bomb exploded almost everything about the earlier part of our marriage, and amid the carnage, we’ve rebuilt something so much more vital and real—something akin to what we had when we first fell in love. I’m grateful for that. I love my wife and the family we’ve made. But at 4 a.m., when I can’t sleep, this is what I think about. It guts me still. Will it ever not?

Dear Reader,

This is what 4 a.m. is for, right? The gremlins come out; the edifices crumble; the saucy doubts and fears triumph. It sounds as if your wife has been (in the end) pretty up front with you, and that your second marriage, if I can call it that, is working out. So try to commit to this new shared reality, in which the old comforts and securities no longer obtain but—maybe for that very reason—you’re more alive. And more alive = more painful, as well as more joyful. I’m pretty sure that’s the equation.

Forgiveness: You need to keep topping it up. (Keep in mind, too, that your wife has things to forgive you for.) Isn’t that what Jesus meant when he talked about forgiving your friend 70 times seven times? It’s not that there are 490 separate offenses; there’s only one. And you have to keep forgiving it, in the privacy of your heart, over and over again, at 4 a.m.

But then, as Tennyson says, “with morning wakes the will.” Up and at ’em. Fling wide the curtains. Brew the coffee. Embrace your spouse.

Squinting at the daylight,

James

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