The Day my Dad Questioned my Sexuality
Parents always find a way to discuss life’s big issues in the most horrifying ways possible. They also have a way of being paranoid about their children, resulting in many embarrassing and unnecessary questions. Well, a few years back, my dad decided to bring up the major life topic of sexuality, and question me on what mine is.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a homophobe in any way but I don’t want to be confused with a lesbian just the same as I wouldn’t want to be confused with a boy or a thirty year-old. It’s just not part of my identity. And although I may have been slightly offended at first, looking back I can find the humour in my dad’s subtle questioning.
First of all, it is very normal in my family to marry at a young age. My mom married my dad two weeks after she turned seventeen; my oldest sister was 23; my other sister was 21. So when I broke up with my high school sweetheart at eighteen, the prospect of marriage before being legal to drink in the States was shattered. And the fact that I wasn’t interested in finding a new boyfriend was mind boggling.
Secondly, I was taking a Women’s Studies course. As you may have been able to tell, my parents are pretty traditional and my dad has the old-fashioned mind set of female= domestic duties, male= head of the household. I am the complete opposite and am against such rigid gender roles and am much more open to different lifestyles and ways of living. Needles to say, when I got into discussions with him about topics I was learning in my studies, such as the acceptance of gay marriage or sex change operations, it didn’t go over very well. Oh, and on a similar note, the blog about Bob also didn’t go over well, but that’s a blog on its own.
And lastly, I started to pick up the hobby of going to theatres and special shows on campus. It just so happened that the one show my room mate asked me to go with her was a drag show and the second one was the Vagina Monologues. It also didn’t help that I went to see the Vagina Monologues with a few girl friends on Valentine’s Day.
Looking back, the stereotypes were definitely there. And I’m sure that if I cut my hair short or took up dart-throwing, my dad would feel certain that I was a lesbian. But just because a girl likes to spend the romantic holiday of the year with other girls, or has a lot of gay friends, or even enjoys watching fifty year old men singing to Tina Turner in sequined dresses and platforms, it does not necessarily mean she’s gay. Although, I was tempted to play along with my dad’s suspicion just to get a rise out of him.
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