On the art of coming out over Christmas dinner
How do you broach this? We’ve got no idea, but we've put together some perfectly useless scenarios for your #Queermas enjoyment...
HO HO... HOMO?
Ask anyone and they will probably tell you that Christmas is a time for food, festivity, and family.
Ask someone who isn’t straight and "festivity" can veer unpredictably between anything from stirring a hot pan of mulled wine to steering yourself away from the dog-whistle homophobia of an auntie or uncle. Mmm, cinnamon!
If you carry the mantle of being the gay cousin – holding its weight with your strong and capable shoulders like a queer Atlas – it can be difficult to take this identity into events which include extended family.
So, how do you broach this situation? It’s a tricky one. We’ve got no idea, but we have put together some perfectly useless scenarios for your enjoyment...
An older family member tries to strike up conversation. How’s school/university/work? Do you have a boyfriend?
“Well, Aunt Glynnis, thank you for putting those two questions together in a way which suggests that my relationship status is tied together with any academic or professional pursuits I have going on at the moment, all contributing to some overarching impression of my ‘success’. I love the 1950s it’s the best.
"No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Thank you for reminding me that I’m meant to be looking for one – I must have forgotten somewhere amongst frolicking in pools of glitter and praying to the murals of Kathleen Hannon and Karen O permanently plastered over the walls of my home.
"Could you please pass the brussel sprouts?”
You’re into the Arts, huh? I suppose you’ll have to find yourself a rich boyfriend!
“Why would I limit myself to finding a boyfriend to depend on financially when I could settle down with a woman and we could have two sets of the wage gap, several cats, and maybe a few plants?”
Bring along your own nut roast for yourself, and for any other enlightened family members to enjoy
Nothing says "black sheep" quite like taking along your own vegetarian meal to escape the carnivorous goings-on of the day. You won’t have to say anything, and to be honest it’s hardly coming out – they’ll probably just think you, quite rightly, care about the effect of meat consumption on the environment.
But lezbehonest, we all also know there’s queer coding in there if you want there to be...
You eat meat. A family member turns to you and asks: “Would you like leg or breast?”
You stare down awkwardly, suddenly taking in the stained carpet on the floor beneath you. You slowly rock your weight back and forward between the various legs of your chair. Very subtly, you lick the edges of your lips...
A family member turns to you and asks, again: “Would you like leg or breast?”
You turn to them, slightly wide-eyed, digging your nails firmly into your palms.
You take a breath, and compose yourself...
“BREAST. I want BREAST. Breast! Breast! Breast! There, I said it!”
Aunt Glynnis, begins to slowly carve out the meat, slightly tilting her head as she tries to work out what exactly just happened.
Merry Christmas, one and all.
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