2020 made me realise I still love my homophobic parents – and I hate it

Lockdowns in 2020 forced me back to live at home with my homophobic parents. 

To my surprise, it’s made me love them more than I have in years. And that can be awful for my mental health.

When I came out as bisexual to my parents three years ago and broke the news of a boyfriend it’s fair to say it didn’t go very well. 

A few pretty gross homophobic remarks and the banning of my boyfriend from the house later, it’s now become the elephant in the room.

I’ve never felt the need for an all-guns-blazing showdown with them over their views.

Neither have I wanted to pose an ‘are you in or are you out?’ referendum to them over their involvement in my life. 

I just limited my time at home and, when with the family, we settled for the unspoken agreement to not mention it.

With the outbreak of COVID-19 this year, the country went into national lockdown. Instead of living alone, I decided it was best to return home

At the time of making that decision I, like most others, thought it wouldn’t be for much more than a month.

Clearly, it went on longer. My family got into the spirit and hunkered down into lockdown lifestyle. Every evening would be a new activity. There were frequent movie nights, long board games with glasses of wine and a weekly Friday takeaway night.

I was forced to spend more bonding time with the family than I had since coming out in 2017. At first, I was hesitant but, little by little, I found myself enjoying it.

I was reminded just how similar I am to my mum, our academic and sporting interests almost identical. Likewise, I found myself laughing again at my dad’s quirks which I hadn’t found funny in a long time.

Despite all that was going on in the world, I was happy to be at home – that is until that elephant in the room would catch my eye again.

Being made re-aware of my parents’ homophobia would happen in a few ways. 

Most frequently would be when I’d start to tell a story from my life at university. 

The conversation would flow naturally and I’d have an anecdote to interject with. Just as I began to open my mouth, I’d realise that my boyfriend, Chris, was involved. 

I’d have to double back on myself, close my mouth and stop the story. The awkward silence when I mentioned his name to my parents just wasn’t worth it.

At other times, the two of them would stay at the dinner table as me and my sister kicked back in the lounge after another day of nothing. Mum and dad would have a couple of glasses of wine and start their tipsy musings over their children’s’ lives.

Every now and again, that would centre on my future and my relationship which they would label various hateful things. Clearly, they thought I couldn’t hear being in another room.

However, their boozy misjudgement of sound and not-so-thick walls had me turning up the TV just to drown it out.

As a result, the very progress I was making with my parents became a source of anxiety. As our relationship stands, I have no idea whether my mum and dad will be in my future or not.

There’s been no sign of progress in their views since 2017, so I have no reason to think they’ll suddenly come round if and when I do marry another man.

That’s the realisation that would follow just as I bit my tongue on a story involving Chris. I’d go from feeling excited about getting on with my parents again to thinking – what’s the point in all of this if they won’t want anything to do with me in years to come? 

It’s had a great impact on my mental health. It was almost worse than feeling constantly down as I kept falling from emotional highs to emotional lows. I’d have a taste of the relationship I could have if I wasn’t bisexual, then have it pulled from my feet when I remembered my parents’ homophobia.

Dealing with that is an ongoing process. Overall, after spending so much time in lockdown with them this year, my parents and I are closer than we have been in years. That is a good thing. I’m keener to spend time at home and I do enjoy the time I spend with mum and dad.

For my mental health, I try not to think too much about the future. If they do come round to accepting me, it’s their own journey to make. There’s nothing that I can do, so stressing about whether it will or will not happen is a waste of time – although, admittedly, accepting that is the epicentre of the battle.

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