In hindsight I should have been on my guard when my mother just coolly received the news of my homosexuality with shocking sangfroid. Not even the slightest tremor on the hand holding the teacup. In fact I was so relieved - since I'd expected a mild uproar to say the least - that I easily took it at face value her apparent acquiescence.
Or perhaps I saw the warning signs but found it easier to ignore them.
Keeping it cool, I guess. Should have known that I inherited that trait from my mother since we both like to keep our cards uncomfortably close to the chest. Unlike me though, it didn't take all that long for her to reveal some of hers. Crazed hysterics with an appeal to sentiment wouldn't work as well on me - in fact it would irritate the fucking hell out of me - but cold, hard logic might do the trick.
So the messages started coming.
Mom : Have you thought it over?
Paul : I have had almost thirty years to think it over.
Mom : Perhaps you have acted a bit impulsively.
Paul : When have I ever been a creature of impulse, if ever?
Mom : Have you tried? What would it be like not to know the love of a good woman?
Paul : Tried? It's not a choice and you know that. Do I have to explain it all over again?
Yes, you can sense the growing irritation in my voice.
Smile on my face but damn, I felt like kicking the wall.
And that was just the beginning of the interrogation. Gritted my teeth through while she delivered her speech. Tried my best to understand that what took years of painful soul-searching for me to finally accept my poor mother probably had to assimilate in the short space of a few days.
Grr. Didn't make me any less disgruntled when faced with the same cliched arguments made in every shoddy coming-out movie there ever was. Obviously she had plenty more to add - though nothing extremely novel since I've heard almost every justification against homosexuality there ever was with the poignant rebuttal to match. Won't bore you guys by rehashing some of the more salient points of her argument since it would induce a mindless urge to punch walls for me.
Unfortunately trying to psyche myself back into the closet didn't work back when I was an acne-scarred teenager - and it failed to succeed this time.
If anything it made me even more a staunch advocate of waving the rainbow flag. At that moment I probably would have leapt on top of a passing float if a pride parade went by!