I came out as gay to my wife. Now she and my son hate me. What can I do?

Kai affirms a reader’s right to live in his truth as a gay person, and advises him on how he might build bridges with his family 

Ask Kai: Advice for the Apocalypse” is a column by Kai Cheng Thom to help you survive and thrive in a challenging world. Have a question? Email askkai@xtramagazine.com.

Dear Kai, 

I was married for 33 years to my wife, and we have a 30-year-old son. I came out as gay and divorced her. She said I ruined her life, and my son is ashamed of me. 

My wife said she would rather I be dead than gay. I am getting to the point that I think I would be better off dead, too. It’s getting hard to deal with the shame of my family hating me. I don’t know what to do.

Hopeless

Dear Hopeless, 

I am so very sorry to hear that you are feeling this way. I want to affirm that you deserve to live in your truth as a gay person, and to be happy, regardless of how your family has experienced your coming out. We all have that right, no matter what. 

Certainly, your wife and your son’s feelings matter—and it sounds like you care about them very much—but you don’t have to take full responsibility for their emotions. They are both adults, and it’s their job to work through their own reactions. Your job is to work on yourself, to try to figure out how to be happy and to offer them compassion and connection when they are ready for it. 

Right off the top, I want to address what you’ve written about thinking you would be better off dead. If you are thinking about suicide—whether it’s a recurring idea or a serious plan—I implore you to seek professional attention as soon as possible. You don’t even need to wait on a counselor or doctor’s waitlist. Help is as close as your local suicide hotline or crisis centre, and you deserve to get the support you need. You don’t need to go through this alone. 

It was wrong for your wife to say she would rather you be dead than gay. While I imagine she was going through some terrible feelings of her own, and she deserves to be supported as well, it’s never okay to imply that a gay or queer person is better dead than out. Research shows that LGBTQ2S+ people are already more vulnerable to suicide than straight people, likely due in part to the idea that our sexualities make us less loveable to the people around us. 

 

So let me say this to you in case no one else has, Hopeless: I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so glad you’re gay. I’m so glad that you were able to come out, no matter what age you are or how much time you spent living a “straight” life before. This world needs you in it, exactly as you are—a gay man with the courage it took to come out now, after all this time. Thank you for being you. 

I encourage you to connect with a gay or queer community that will give you this same message, over and over, until you start to really believe it. I know that making new friends and starting a new chapter of life can be hard, especially after decades of living in a heterosexual world. Don’t give up. There are people in the gay community who would like to meet you. 

For example, groups such as Prime Timers Worldwide (with chapters throughout Canada and the United States) and Gay and Grey in Montreal specifically seek to support and create community for mature gay and bisexual men. The SAGE LGBT Elder Hotline runs a 24-hour phone service for older gay and queer people. In terms of online spaces, Reddit has a host of sub-forums catering to LGBTQ2S+ individuals of many different identities and experiences all over the globe. Somewhere out there—perhaps not too far away—there is a community waiting for you.

LGBTQ2S+ communities have been helping each other survive, come out and start over for decades. While we’re certainly not perfect, one thing that we know how to do well is create spaces to meet, gather and offer one another mutual aid. Something that the many different sub-groups and generations have in common is that we know the power of connection: we support one another when our families won’t; we are there for each other when things fall apart. With a community behind you, Hopeless, things might not seem quite so bleak. And if you’re feeling more confident in your choice to come out, it’s possible that you will be able to face your family in a different way. 

You didn’t ruin anyone’s life by coming out, Hopeless. Sure, your wife and your son might have preferred to live in blissful ignorance forever. But in order for that to happen, you would have needed to sacrifice your own fundamental truth and your own happiness—and you would have had to live in a lie for the rest of your life. 

This just isn’t something that any spouse or romantic partner has the right to demand of you. Is that really the person your wife wants to be? And when it comes to your son, I urge you to consider what kind of message you want to send him as his parent. Should people hide who they are in order to please others? Or should they come to be brave and honest and stand in their truth, no matter what other people think or how long it takes? 

Now, your family does have the right to be surprised and even upset. I imagine that your wife might be wondering if you ever really loved her or wanted to be married to her; she might feel that the 33 years you spent together were fake. She might feel tricked or cheated because she didn’t know you were hiding this part of yourself all this time. I imagine your son might be feeling confused. He might be wondering if he ever really knew you at all. 

I don’t know the answer to these questions, Hopeless, but you do. If your wife and son are willing to hear it, I suspect it might be important for you to tell them why you didn’t come out until now, that your relationships were indeed real and based on love and that you care about their feelings. If you feel that you could have come out in a way that was more gentle or sensitive to their needs, you might consider apologizing for that. They might need to hear that you don’t regret the time you spent building and raising your family, that they did and still do matter to you—even if they’re still struggling to accept who you are. 

LGBTQ2S+ people who come out later in life often experience guilt for having not come out sooner. They often feel as though they have disrupted their loved ones’ peaceful existence, that they did something wrong because they didn’t figure things out earlier. These are complex feelings that deserve time and self-reflection. What I will say is the world you grew up in was very different from the one we live in now, Hopeless. When you got married 33 years ago, the AIDS crisis was at its peak, and it was still legal to discriminate against gay people in most parts of Canada. I imagine that you made the decisions you did with the best information you had at the time. I imagine that you didn’t set out to hurt anyone. I imagine that you were trying your best. 

The road you walk now is not an easy one, Hopeless—but then, it probably never was. We live in an unjust world that sets people like us up by forcing us to live in a lie. When we finally break free, there is bound to be backlash, pain, even despair before feelings of freedom and relief set in. Know that the truth is worth it. You are worth it. Thank goodness you’ve made it this far. I’m so glad you’re gay. I’m so glad you’re here. 

Want more Kai? Check out her latest Quick Tips video. 

Kai Cheng Thom is no longer a registered or practicing mental health professional. The opinions expressed in this column are not intended or implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. All content in this column, including, but not limited to, all text, graphics, videos and images, is for general information purposes only. This column, its author, Xtra (including its parent and affiliated companies, as well as their directors, officers, employees, successors and assigns) and any guest authors are not responsible for the accuracy of the information contained in this column or the outcome of following any information provided directly or indirectly from it.

Kai Cheng Thom is a writer, performer, and social worker who divides her heart between Montreal and Toronto, unceded Indigenous territories. She is the author of the Lambda Award-nominated novel Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir (Metonymy Press), as well as the poetry collection a place called No Homeland (Arsenal Pulp Press). Her latest book, Falling Back in Love with Being Human, a collection of letters and poetry, is out now from Penguin Random House Canada.

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