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Telling your partner that your dad is gay
by Annabelle Rose
2014-07-06 12:37:37
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It was our fourth date. I had not planned to tell him that night. It just seemed like the right time.

Telling the man you are falling for that your dad is gay and hoping that he will react in a mature way is hard. I hesitated, I wondered in the moment before the words came out of my mouth if everything between us would now change. I wondered if the man I thought he was would disappear. I wanted to trust him. I did not want another bad experience.

We were walking through the park at night in the city. It was winter but it was unusually warm and lots of people were out and about walking, jogging, with their dogs. We followed the various footpaths all over, taking our time, always with our arms around each other. In more ways than one, we explored the trails leading into secluded spots and it was here that it happened.

“It’s funny”, he said just after we had stumbled out of one of these dark paths and back onto one of the main tracks.

He had his arm tightly around me. I felt safe. I felt cared for.

We both hesitated. We both had seen a single man walk into the secluded spot that we had just come out of. This was a spot covered with trees, only dirt for its path, it was almost like some kind of cave of trees.

I had heard that sections of the park at this hour of the night were used as gay hook up areas. My hesitation was thinking whether the man I was with had picked up on this. His hesitation at that stage was to wonder if he should bring up what he thought the man was doing or if I was aware.

“Interesting. One man going in there alone.” It was more of a question to me, wondering if he should talk any further about it.

“This park is known for hook ups”, I said.

He grew more confident then.

“I was going to say... I think he might be meeting another man.”

I smiled a little at first. It took me one more moment before realising that now was my chance where I could tell him about my dad. After a little hesitation I spoke.

“Can I tell you something?”

He looked at me with his kind face.

“You’re sure?”

I needed a little bit of encouragement and after he said that he was sure that I could tell him anything I quietly blurted out that my dad is gay.

He was surprised but his arm never faltered from around my body. We continued to walk. He was curious and he was supportive.

We sat down on a park bench. My hand was squeezed in between the buttons of his shirt, resting on his bare skin. We were wrapped around each other watching the people walk past. We were content as I answered his questions about my dad and my experiences of my dad coming out when I was a teenager. He was perfect.

An elderly couple passed us with their dog. They looked us over for a quick second, and as I nestled into his shoulder on the park bench I learnt to trust again.


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