II grew up in a nurturing household with a foundation of love. My family had dinner together every night, my dad worked hard to provide for us, and my other dad stayed at home to raise me. So imagine my disbelief when my dads sat me down recently and came out as gay.
Look, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being gay. Nearly 10 percent of the population is homosexual, and that’s absolutely reasonable. But my parents account for two of 7 billion people — do you know what that number looks like if you put it in a calculator? You’re trying to tell me that it’s LIKELY that two human beings would be gay AND my parents? Any two people have a higher chance of being attacked by sharks while collaborating with the Wu Tang Clan than being my gay dads.
I guess I’m just a little shocked that I didn’t see the signs. Sure, Dad would always kiss Dad goodbye before work every day, but I guess I always thought that was more of a friendly kiss. And when they snuggled on the couch together, I always just thought that was friendly snuggling. And one time I walked in on them having what I assumed was FRIENDLY sex, but I guess that was just regular sex between two consenting adults who love each other. This really changes the way I view the relationship between my fathers and it’s a lot to take in.
Related: I Wouldn’t Suck a Dick for a Million Dollars or a Chance at Being Happy
Paul (my dad) always struck me as maybe being in the closet, but it seemed rude to ask. However, Dave (my dad) seemed like such a ladies man! He had so many female friends. In high school, I would come to him with my girl problems and he would offer insightful, amazing advice. I always thought of my dad as somebody who was just drowning in naked women. It seems like one hell of a twist for him to have had romantic feelings for my dad and ONLY my dad this whole time.
I need to accept my dads for who they are. The love that they apparently share is beautiful, and it’s not my place to judge them for their lifestyles. Being gay and also a dad isn’t for me, and that’s OK. They love each other and they love me, and that’s what matters. But they better tell my moms before Christmas because I do NOT do well with secrets.