Wow. You had a very grownup sense of reality for an 8th grader—knowing when you were being bullshitted, knowing when adults were failing you rather than the other way around. Remarkable. That Dr. Fein. Oh. My. God. The lack of boundaries were only a start…
Adults are fully idiots. Even adults who treated me when I was an adult never clocked the possibility I was not heterosexual. Even at the Kinsey Institute—no one talked to me about how fear cloaks desire. And how lack of desire can be the reason for all the psychological and physical trauma associated with performing compulsive heterosexuality. I’m still parsing all of this. Even out, married to a woman, and fully in myself. Thank you for a beautiful post that aids in creating space and providing words.
Thanks, Shawna. Yes, the world makes an awful lot of assumptions to keep itself comfortable and tucked inside its safe little box. So many of those assumptions are wrong! Happy I get to call the shots now! xo
Good golly, I hope the medical / therapeutic community has learned a thing or two in the years since you had these experiences. Families, too, for that matter. I feel like that's the case, but I can't be sure. Loved your lively reading of this, Nan, and am glad it's a story you can tell with a lighthearted tone now. I'm sure it was anything but when it was unfolding.
I think evolution on these matters is still strange though it certainly has gotten better. In the case of the shrink, the deep red color he turned made me think that maybe he was closeted? That was my thought at the time. My guidance counselor was just a nice suburban middle class Jewish lady who had visions of every young woman wanting marriage and babies. It was disappointing for sure, but it was also pretty hilarious. The hard part was my dad and his comment when I confessed my feelings for a classmate. That hurt and made me angry. It was such a sad statement about his own self-worth. He did better later, when he was able to stop hiding. Don't ask me about what it was like when I'd bring a guy over to meet him. In my late teens through my mid-twenties I dated men too, exploring my bisexual nature. My father was not receptive in the least, if fact, he was rude and dismissive to these guys. Not the girls, just the guys. My dad lived his life from a place of fear, and I fed right into it in many ways. Boy, the memoir is going to be good! xo. Oh, and one other thing. Even though it did get better for years, it's seems we're on that downslope of hatred and othering again. Holding my breath.
Thank you for sharing this story, Nan. I wish you’d had the support you deserve. And I’m impressed with your ability to know yourself and hold to your truth.
Hey, Holly! I wish I'd had it too, but I did find people to talk to about all of it. It just took a little while. There's a much deeper story under this one that I'm writing. It's all about choices I made to help my dad feel less guilty about his life. It's going to take some time to write it, but there's so much more. Miss you, my friend! xo
Nan, another bold and searing post. You reach back and find the little girl who will always be you, and tell her story so wisely and gently. Those counselors and therapists were fools; the adults you loved betrayed you, and you were in a position where you saw it all but had no power. I’m sorry that this happened to you, and in awe of how you’ve taken care of the young Nan, protecting her as she needed and deserved. Big hugs. xoxo
Thanks, Mary. It was a messy and necessary transition for my father. He was in some ways brave, but a mostly fearful man. He didn't love himself they way others loved him. I totally relate to that. It's taken years of committed work to heal from the battle scars that we all receive just living life. I wish he had more of a connection to himself, to his beauty, and his talent. He was a casualty of his era. Not making excuses for him. Just extending him some grace. He could have done a lot of things better that he was capable of. I will say this, I am my father's daughter in so many ways. He gave me so much but he also took a lot. Sorting it out for myself through therapy, 12-step and writing has made me see more clearly than I've ever been able to in the past. xo
So much confusion! I've only just begun to tell the tales. And amidst the confusion there were plenty of gifts. I'll take that hug, anytime! That girl still lives within me, and she can use all the hugs available, and she's damn good at giving them back! Thanks, Anne. xo
In some ways, I suppose I was braver...but I had it easier than my dad did. He was a young man in the 1950s and lived a gay life before (or while?) he was seeing my mother...not sure about that one right now. He came from a conservodox Jewish family, and expectations were firmly in place for a career as a doctor, lawyer, or CPA, so they balked when he said he wanted to be a fashion designer. Can you imagine what they would have said if he'd attempted to come out in that decade. People didn't do that. But I'm sure my grandparents always knew. He never came out formally to either of them. I think it was more of a non-secret secret. You know, a "wink, wink."
A difficult passage for youer whole family. It takes so much courage to swim against the current. You and your dad both have a lot of it. I'm glad you stayed close to him till the end. He must have been lonely.
I have a lot to say in response to your comment, but I won't for now. My father's hand was forced by my mother, thank god. I'm sure he was lonely during the marriage. He relied on our codependent relationship far too much. But when he came out, he started having fun. He had friends, he had lovers. He was never a happy man, but derived joy from things outside of himself for periods of time. He lived in a state of low-level depression. A lot of dissatisfaction with himself. He had so many gifts and so little confidence. And he was a lovely, smart, talented man, who loved me to the best of his ability. I never felt that he didn't love me.
Yes. Exactly. My mom was only 37 and my dad was 40 when they separated. Babies. I was ultimately very glad that she got an opportunity to be in some relationships with straight men, but those weren't very good either. She had issues choosing good partners. There's a deep dive to do there, too, if I choose to take it on. And my dad got to be true to himself for the last 35 years of his life and stop hiding, and that in the end, is a blessing. Life is hard. Being human is hard. But we move forward.
Wow. I get that it was the 1970s, but the guidance counselor and therapist were nonetheless an embarrassment to their respective professions. As for your father, am I right to get the impression that your direct question about his sexuality helped to propel him to come out?
Nah, it didn't propel him to come out. I think it did the opposite. I think it scared the shit out of him. I was 14 when I asked him. I was 16 when my mother initiated the split. FINALLY. It was heartbreaking on one level or another for each of us. And yes, those so-called professionals were ridiculous. Really a joke. At least I was savvy enough to know what jerks they were. I stopped seeing the shrink after that visit with my father. I should have stopped sooner.
I'd be interested to hear the conversations that followed his coming out, as you'd asked him before and he denied it. It must have been really interesting, each of you finding your way at the same time, separately but connected....that's a book, right there.
I would have liked to have heard the conversation between my parents when it all finally hit the fan. I always perceived them as good friends, kind and loving toward each other for the most part. I don't know too much about what it was like for them privately. My feeling about the relationship was that it was killing both of them emotionally. My mom isn't the best source for information, though. I think as the years go by her version of many of these stories has been colored by her hurt, her resentments, and her anger at herself for making the choices she did. And yes. There's at least one book about my life with my dad. My mother paid a high price and I did too, but I didn't know that until I began deeper work after he died. I miss him.
I don't know whether you meant for there to be humor in this essay, which I love, but I found humor. And "horror" in how people responded to your efforts to share what had to be shared. Between the guidance counselor and your therapist...
Oh, there was definitely humor. The interactions with the two unprofessional professionals was hilarious to me even at 14. Limited idiots. It all goes so much deeper than this brief excerpt from my life and how I made the choices I made then and the way those choices impacted the rest of my life. More to come! xo
"Dr. Fein told me I could bring Dad in with me, and we could talk about it. I said I wanted to do that, and when my dad picked me up, I asked him to join us at my next appointment."
I have to admit I was really afraid about that joint session with Dr. Fein, afraid that Dr. Fein was going to raise the topic (which would have been wrong in so many ways, but reading along, that was my "oh no" feeling). After all, boundaries were already a real issue.
I'm really sorry, Nan, for all of these failed attempts to talk to someone, to find acceptance along the way. I know it isn't unusual, but your early attempts to reach out to an adult that should have been in a supportive role are heartbreaking.
The timing of your Dad's coming out seems (at least to a reader) to be so linked to your own mention to him of being interested in a girl. You say it was a few months later, but I can imagine how your comment might have released him from things (along the lines of keeping up a facade for his child's sake). There is something really tragic in this story.
(He sounds like such a wonderful and interesting guy.)
Hey, Amy. There's so much more to this story, and this is just a snippet from a lifetime of impressions, and "decisions" I made about myself based on my extremely enmeshed relationship with him. I think on some level I was bisexual, though that was influenced greatly by my need to make my father feel better about himself. I don't feel that way about myself anymore, mostly because men have become less and less appealing as a group to me as I've lived and aged. It's complicated and a longer story than I've told here. But I will tell that story at some point. The memoir, most likely. My dad came out because my mother forced his hand. She was tired of living in a marriage that wasn't honest. Neither of them were honest with each other or themselves. I'm not blaming them, its a very hard thing to live in a time and culture that was so shaming of sexuality that didn't fit someone else's idea of normal. I was lucky in some respects. By the time I got to my junior year of high school, I was able to talk with a health ed teacher who divulged her own bisexuality to me. It was a huge gift.
And yes, he was a wonderful and very interesting guy. I loved him with all my heart, and still do. And there was lots of damage done by both of my parents...and a lot of good as well. We humans are complicated, aren't we?
Yes, it was. I don’t know if that’s true, necessarily. I think it had more to do with my mother finally confronting him about the issues in their marriage. I think it was very brave of her and quite overdue. But we can only do these things when we’re ready. xo
Wow. You had a very grownup sense of reality for an 8th grader—knowing when you were being bullshitted, knowing when adults were failing you rather than the other way around. Remarkable. That Dr. Fein. Oh. My. God. The lack of boundaries were only a start…
Adults are fully idiots. Even adults who treated me when I was an adult never clocked the possibility I was not heterosexual. Even at the Kinsey Institute—no one talked to me about how fear cloaks desire. And how lack of desire can be the reason for all the psychological and physical trauma associated with performing compulsive heterosexuality. I’m still parsing all of this. Even out, married to a woman, and fully in myself. Thank you for a beautiful post that aids in creating space and providing words.
Thanks, Shawna. Yes, the world makes an awful lot of assumptions to keep itself comfortable and tucked inside its safe little box. So many of those assumptions are wrong! Happy I get to call the shots now! xo
Good golly, I hope the medical / therapeutic community has learned a thing or two in the years since you had these experiences. Families, too, for that matter. I feel like that's the case, but I can't be sure. Loved your lively reading of this, Nan, and am glad it's a story you can tell with a lighthearted tone now. I'm sure it was anything but when it was unfolding.
I think evolution on these matters is still strange though it certainly has gotten better. In the case of the shrink, the deep red color he turned made me think that maybe he was closeted? That was my thought at the time. My guidance counselor was just a nice suburban middle class Jewish lady who had visions of every young woman wanting marriage and babies. It was disappointing for sure, but it was also pretty hilarious. The hard part was my dad and his comment when I confessed my feelings for a classmate. That hurt and made me angry. It was such a sad statement about his own self-worth. He did better later, when he was able to stop hiding. Don't ask me about what it was like when I'd bring a guy over to meet him. In my late teens through my mid-twenties I dated men too, exploring my bisexual nature. My father was not receptive in the least, if fact, he was rude and dismissive to these guys. Not the girls, just the guys. My dad lived his life from a place of fear, and I fed right into it in many ways. Boy, the memoir is going to be good! xo. Oh, and one other thing. Even though it did get better for years, it's seems we're on that downslope of hatred and othering again. Holding my breath.
Yes, sadly, your last point is all too true.
I had that thought about the therapist, and if we're right, I hope he found his way out.
Always a pleasure to learn more about you, Nan. Thanks!
Thank you for sharing this story, Nan. I wish you’d had the support you deserve. And I’m impressed with your ability to know yourself and hold to your truth.
Hey, Holly! I wish I'd had it too, but I did find people to talk to about all of it. It just took a little while. There's a much deeper story under this one that I'm writing. It's all about choices I made to help my dad feel less guilty about his life. It's going to take some time to write it, but there's so much more. Miss you, my friend! xo
Oh, I look forward to reading more.
Miss you too!
xx
MWAH!
of course , but it was a long time ago😭
Love that!
my mum was only worried that i would get face piercings when i told her i had a girlfriend. all about the image management
Did you get them???? 🤪
oh and my first mother didn't care because she was in a long term relationship with a nun. genetics hey !
LOVE! Oh, my goodness, you ARE fun! Go first mother, go!
Nan, another bold and searing post. You reach back and find the little girl who will always be you, and tell her story so wisely and gently. Those counselors and therapists were fools; the adults you loved betrayed you, and you were in a position where you saw it all but had no power. I’m sorry that this happened to you, and in awe of how you’ve taken care of the young Nan, protecting her as she needed and deserved. Big hugs. xoxo
Thanks, Mary. It was a messy and necessary transition for my father. He was in some ways brave, but a mostly fearful man. He didn't love himself they way others loved him. I totally relate to that. It's taken years of committed work to heal from the battle scars that we all receive just living life. I wish he had more of a connection to himself, to his beauty, and his talent. He was a casualty of his era. Not making excuses for him. Just extending him some grace. He could have done a lot of things better that he was capable of. I will say this, I am my father's daughter in so many ways. He gave me so much but he also took a lot. Sorting it out for myself through therapy, 12-step and writing has made me see more clearly than I've ever been able to in the past. xo
Oh, Nan. I just want to hug the girl you were and acknowledge the unnecessary confusion you lived as a child. Sending love and light.
So much confusion! I've only just begun to tell the tales. And amidst the confusion there were plenty of gifts. I'll take that hug, anytime! That girl still lives within me, and she can use all the hugs available, and she's damn good at giving them back! Thanks, Anne. xo
Oh Nan, it's so hard when we are braver than our parents. Your father clearly heard the invitation in your honesty. I bet he misses you too.
In some ways, I suppose I was braver...but I had it easier than my dad did. He was a young man in the 1950s and lived a gay life before (or while?) he was seeing my mother...not sure about that one right now. He came from a conservodox Jewish family, and expectations were firmly in place for a career as a doctor, lawyer, or CPA, so they balked when he said he wanted to be a fashion designer. Can you imagine what they would have said if he'd attempted to come out in that decade. People didn't do that. But I'm sure my grandparents always knew. He never came out formally to either of them. I think it was more of a non-secret secret. You know, a "wink, wink."
A difficult passage for youer whole family. It takes so much courage to swim against the current. You and your dad both have a lot of it. I'm glad you stayed close to him till the end. He must have been lonely.
I have a lot to say in response to your comment, but I won't for now. My father's hand was forced by my mother, thank god. I'm sure he was lonely during the marriage. He relied on our codependent relationship far too much. But when he came out, he started having fun. He had friends, he had lovers. He was never a happy man, but derived joy from things outside of himself for periods of time. He lived in a state of low-level depression. A lot of dissatisfaction with himself. He had so many gifts and so little confidence. And he was a lovely, smart, talented man, who loved me to the best of his ability. I never felt that he didn't love me.
Wait. Now that I’ve read your response to other comments I see that your mother had reached her limit and forced the issue.
Yes. Exactly. My mom was only 37 and my dad was 40 when they separated. Babies. I was ultimately very glad that she got an opportunity to be in some relationships with straight men, but those weren't very good either. She had issues choosing good partners. There's a deep dive to do there, too, if I choose to take it on. And my dad got to be true to himself for the last 35 years of his life and stop hiding, and that in the end, is a blessing. Life is hard. Being human is hard. But we move forward.
Wow. I get that it was the 1970s, but the guidance counselor and therapist were nonetheless an embarrassment to their respective professions. As for your father, am I right to get the impression that your direct question about his sexuality helped to propel him to come out?
Nah, it didn't propel him to come out. I think it did the opposite. I think it scared the shit out of him. I was 14 when I asked him. I was 16 when my mother initiated the split. FINALLY. It was heartbreaking on one level or another for each of us. And yes, those so-called professionals were ridiculous. Really a joke. At least I was savvy enough to know what jerks they were. I stopped seeing the shrink after that visit with my father. I should have stopped sooner.
I'd be interested to hear the conversations that followed his coming out, as you'd asked him before and he denied it. It must have been really interesting, each of you finding your way at the same time, separately but connected....that's a book, right there.
I would have liked to have heard the conversation between my parents when it all finally hit the fan. I always perceived them as good friends, kind and loving toward each other for the most part. I don't know too much about what it was like for them privately. My feeling about the relationship was that it was killing both of them emotionally. My mom isn't the best source for information, though. I think as the years go by her version of many of these stories has been colored by her hurt, her resentments, and her anger at herself for making the choices she did. And yes. There's at least one book about my life with my dad. My mother paid a high price and I did too, but I didn't know that until I began deeper work after he died. I miss him.
I don't know whether you meant for there to be humor in this essay, which I love, but I found humor. And "horror" in how people responded to your efforts to share what had to be shared. Between the guidance counselor and your therapist...
Oh, there was definitely humor. The interactions with the two unprofessional professionals was hilarious to me even at 14. Limited idiots. It all goes so much deeper than this brief excerpt from my life and how I made the choices I made then and the way those choices impacted the rest of my life. More to come! xo
Speaking as a therapist, I cannot even imagine giving that kind of response. Good grief.
Horrendous. Good grief is right. Dr. Fein. What an ass.
"Dr. Fein told me I could bring Dad in with me, and we could talk about it. I said I wanted to do that, and when my dad picked me up, I asked him to join us at my next appointment."
I have to admit I was really afraid about that joint session with Dr. Fein, afraid that Dr. Fein was going to raise the topic (which would have been wrong in so many ways, but reading along, that was my "oh no" feeling). After all, boundaries were already a real issue.
I'm really sorry, Nan, for all of these failed attempts to talk to someone, to find acceptance along the way. I know it isn't unusual, but your early attempts to reach out to an adult that should have been in a supportive role are heartbreaking.
The timing of your Dad's coming out seems (at least to a reader) to be so linked to your own mention to him of being interested in a girl. You say it was a few months later, but I can imagine how your comment might have released him from things (along the lines of keeping up a facade for his child's sake). There is something really tragic in this story.
(He sounds like such a wonderful and interesting guy.)
Hey, Amy. There's so much more to this story, and this is just a snippet from a lifetime of impressions, and "decisions" I made about myself based on my extremely enmeshed relationship with him. I think on some level I was bisexual, though that was influenced greatly by my need to make my father feel better about himself. I don't feel that way about myself anymore, mostly because men have become less and less appealing as a group to me as I've lived and aged. It's complicated and a longer story than I've told here. But I will tell that story at some point. The memoir, most likely. My dad came out because my mother forced his hand. She was tired of living in a marriage that wasn't honest. Neither of them were honest with each other or themselves. I'm not blaming them, its a very hard thing to live in a time and culture that was so shaming of sexuality that didn't fit someone else's idea of normal. I was lucky in some respects. By the time I got to my junior year of high school, I was able to talk with a health ed teacher who divulged her own bisexuality to me. It was a huge gift.
And yes, he was a wonderful and very interesting guy. I loved him with all my heart, and still do. And there was lots of damage done by both of my parents...and a lot of good as well. We humans are complicated, aren't we?
It must have been so hard for your Dad to live in secret. It was probably harder for his generation. I have no doubt that your courage gave him his.
Yes, it was. I don’t know if that’s true, necessarily. I think it had more to do with my mother finally confronting him about the issues in their marriage. I think it was very brave of her and quite overdue. But we can only do these things when we’re ready. xo