This summer I’ll more than likely finally have to face the inevitable. I may have to come out to my nieces. I blame the lure of Mickey Mouse.
I’m not ashamed of who I am or who I love. But my nieces have been sheltered from their uncle’s over their entire lives. When my older niece was born nearly 12 years ago, I had already relocated from Missouri to Florida. Since then, I’ve seen her and her younger sister sporadically over their lifetimes, usually during quick weekend visits home or at a family wedding. Two years before my eldest niece was born, a phone call from my sister led to me coming out to her. She was supportive for about 30 minutes literally until her husband convinced her that I shouldn’t be around their future children. A day later, my sister amended the rule to say that I was indeed always welcome around her children whomever was with would not be.
Fourteen years later it doesn’t seem to matter that the whomever she referred to has been a part of my life longer than her children have been a part of hers, but that’s beside the point at least in her mind.
I’d like to think my nieces see me as a fun uncle, always willing to build forts out of couch cushions or to have an imaginary tea party on the floor of the playroom. But they don’t know the real me and when they visit Disney World with their parents (and both sets of grandparents) this June, it will be the first time I’ve seen them in more than three years.
It’s not because I haven’t tried. The last trip home for me was in 2009 and I took my partner with me. It was a test, of sorts, to see how my parents could handle having their gay son and his partner in their home. It went well, overall. While we opted to sleep at the home of my best friend’s family, we spent a large amount of time in the house I used to call home and ate several meals with my parents over that week-long visit to St. Louis. My sister, who lives 15 minutes away from the house we used to share knew we were at our parents’ house, but couldn’t seem to get away long enough to bring her daughters to see me. She blamed the snowy weather the same weather my partner and I navigated daily so we could see my parents. The roads weren’t that bad.
I’ve driven to the Panhandle several times to see my vacationing family nieces included over the past 12 years. This time, however, my family will be in my own back yard and my nieces are now old enough to ask their uncle specific questions.
Why aren’t you married?and Do you have a girlfriend? will probably be on the top of their lists for Uncle Steve. This means I have to find the right, honest answers that avoid an asterisk in our collective memory denoting this summer as the one where Uncle Steve told the girls he’s gay.
This is also an opportunity, however, for my nieces to learn that LGBTs aren’t bad people which is what they’ve learned in church. By answering their questions honestly I am married, but not to a woman I finally give them a chance to put a face to an issue they will encounter throughout their lives. We know those who personally know a member of the LGBT community are far less likely to work against laws granting protections to us and my nieces are the next generation of voters and lawmakers.
As you’re reading this, I guarantee those two adorable girls are thinking about the flight to Florida, their scheduled dinner with the Disney princesses (okay, only one is excited about that, but that’s a whole different column), the fun rides awaiting them in Central Florida’s theme parks and seeing their Florida Uncle.
I’m sure their parents and grandparents are excited as well.
But for me, this vacation could be a major turning point in my relationship with my family and a real test of that Disney magic.
