Months later, something happened in our family that forced those conversations we (albeit unintentionally) repressed to come to the surface.
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Replying to @rdmcphee
Though I was closer to accepting myself, it felt as if I were coming out all over again. And this time, it was decidedly more painful.
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Replying to @rdmcphee
Neither of us were perfect during that time. It's still something that affects our dynamic, and neither of us are perfect now.
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Replying to @rdmcphee
But during that experience, he never once asked me to be someone I wasn't—or even let me question/second guess who I was.
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Replying to @rdmcphee
That encouragement evolved over time. He's enthusiastically met boyfriends. He's read up on issues that affect the queer community.
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Replying to @rdmcphee
He even brought up my Bernadette Peters obsession, adding "I've seen the pictures, Ryan." (If you have to ask, you don't deserve to know.)
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Replying to @rdmcphee
That mutual comfort has encouraged other topics, too, including my mental health and hardships he experienced in his own family.
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Replying to @rdmcphee
Two months ago, he came up to visit. We walked around the West Village, during which time we took a picture in front of Stonewall.pic.twitter.com/jBsedm7g5w
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Replying to @rdmcphee
(We followed that with seeing HELLO, DOLLY!, because I specialize in subtlety.)pic.twitter.com/gf6hp9kK0t
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Replying to @rdmcphee
Ten years ago, I didn't know how to be comfortable with myself. Now I can be myself as I give my dad a West Village walking tour.
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