Have you ever been called a gay slur by a family member?

Me'thinks your Papa touched his buddy's weiner when he was 10 and never got over it.

You should push him down a flight of stairs, OP

That’s terrible.

OP's Dad is a ginormous prick. What a disgusting thing to say to his own son.

No one in my family has spat homophobic comments at me. Heteronormative, yes.

OP, does your dad know you're gay now? How did he take that if so?

[quote] I'm just wondering if any of you have had any similar experiences? And if so, how did it affect your relationship with that person and/or the way you looked at them afterward? Did you forgive them or did you mentally write them off?

My mother asked me if I was gay once in a forceful and aggressive way. She told me that being gay is disgusting. I was pretty scared of her and stuck in the middle of nowhere (rural) so I denied it. The only time I've denied it. I haven't spoken to my parents in over 10 years. Not the only reason but one of them for sure.

When I was in eighth grade, I painted my fingernails black because death metal was all the rage and I wanted to look cool enough to score an invite to the skate park with the popular kids. On the way to lunch one weekend, my dad noticed my nails in the car and screamed at me that I looked like a transvestite and a freak. Once we got to the restaurant, he made me hide my hands under the table whenever the waitress came by.

He was a wonderful, loving father, but I can still feel the sting of his disapproval and the quiet weight of his disgust in that moment.

R6 Good. Those parents don’t deserve you. Fuck them.

My dad called my boyfriend "your blow buddy" one time. Good one, dad.

OP that is awful. Isn’t it amazing how words can do as much damage as physical punishment? You’re still hurting from your dad’s insults.

My dad often showed annoyance at me, called me and sissy a few times. When I came out my mom would see a camp gay and say, thank God you're not like that. But honestly I'd worked very hard not to be like that, trying my whole life to butch it up. I wonder why it's only recently parents are breaking the cycles their parents set . If a parent was bad theyd just use the excuse that their parent was bad. im still terrified of being seen as effeminate and it's been fucking exhausting.

My stepdad called me faggot or retard or idiot so much that no particular incident stands out, he insulted me every day

[quote]OP, does your dad know you're gay now? How did he take that if so?

Oh man, that's a whole other story I don't feel like reliving! When I was a senior in high school they discovered I'd been looking at gay porn on the family computer (who knew there was such thing as a cache back then!?) and the most awkward confrontation of my life ensued. At least I didn't get called a faggot that day. My mom was actually the lunatic in that situation. She was curled up in the chair next to the computer crying and said to me, "You're going to be spending a lot more time with your father from now on!" (She thinks males turn gay from not spending enough time with their fathers lol). Anyway, that never happened and I remain a raging homo to this day.

My dad is still alive and I often wonder if he recalls the whole designer imposter perfume blow-up. I have to imagine he does, but I would never dare ask. Whoever could've guessed that that stuff could be so triggering? The mind boggles.

R13 I think it was that your dad knew deep down that you were gay and both of your parents are homophobes which is why that perfume incident was so triggering. Since it's a stereotype for homophobes who view anything feminine as negative for men.

When I was moving into West Hollywood, many, many years ago, my stepfather made a comment about how I was moving into a town filled with nothing but faggots.

Today, he would deny ever having said that, but absolutely, 100%, he did say EXACTLY that.

It’s fascinating how bigots seem to easily and conveniently forget the shit they once said.

I didn’t forget.

OP, I’m not defending your dad’s behavior but behavior like that can stem from love and fear of what being gay would mean for a child, not necessarily a rejection of the child. In 1990, if your dad loved you and wasn’t already sure about your sexuality, any “evidence” of a future as a gay man would have been terrifying for him. Maybe you should talk to him about it.

R13 Now that there is still time: Bring it up. Tell your father how it made you feel, and how it impacts your relationship with him to this very day. He opened the door to a lot of hurt — now is your moment to close it.

Also, the fact that nothing ever came of it (in terms of immediate consequences, not its impact on you) makes me think he calmed down and realized what he was doing.

My brother was a psychopath, constantly inventing new ways of humiliating me. He is dead to me now.

R19, I’m so sorry you went through that. ❤️

No one ever called me that, even if they thought it. My mother had a deep-seated homophobia that I could never understand. She was absolutely disgusted by it. I remember how it saddened me to realize that. She and my stepdad were moving me into my first apartment in New York and she was pulling something out of the car when a gay guy kind of strutted by and, to my horror, she got into lockstep behind him and followed him down the sidewalk, looking over her shoulder at us and laughing. Ugh.

R20 It was everyday, all day. I never realized how fucked up he was. I thought it was all me.

I think we've had it all wrong about using "born this way" as an excuse, it doesn't work. People with homophobic parents should forcefully blame their parents for their genes, all the fucked up things they did to you as a kid and obviously punishment from GOD. Use the bible as a weapon. " The commandment is, remember the sabbath and keep it holy, which doesn't mean sitting in front of the tv and drinking beer all day, dad. Maybe I wouldn't be this way if you had taken me to church once in awhile". Keep a notebook of their sins to use against them at the right time.

You know, shit like that. Judge/punish/manipulate/ask for money/ repeat.

I was getting excited as I read further, hoping the Brick Shithouse Troll was back… then I got to this :

[Quote] And then to make things even more confusing, nothing ever happened once I got out!

And my dreams of gingham dresses and public humiliation went out the window.

Fuck you OP.

R15- It’s called selective amnesia.

hope you cut off contact with him as soon as you could

My mother used to call me Sissy-Mary. Mostly whenever I cried. I was a crier.

My parents made it clear to me from a young age that being gay was wrong and deviant. They badgered me about it for years when I was growing up, asking repeatedly if I was gay. They trotted out all the stereotypes about gay men being promiscuous, and hanging around in toilets and parks. I played dumb because I had nowhere else to go. My eventual coming out was a gift to them. They could finally insult me with what they saw as justification, and it was vicious. I had to walk away.

^You're better off without them.

My brother angrily shouted that I was "a fucking dyke" when we were teens, not long after I came out. Our younger siblings witnessed it and when our dad found out, he told him "If you ever say that again, I will take you outside and shut your mouth for you in front of the neighborhood."

The whole thing was stupid. Our dad never would've made good on that threat and my brother didn't actually hate gay people, he was just being a jerk and thought he'd found a new area of vulnerability to attack. But motivations don't matter in the moment when it's your family, all you feel is the sting. I hope OP's father tries to lessen it one day by addressing the incident.

Yep. My dad once and my mom did once.

My siblings called me faggot and queer since I started walking and talking. I had no idea what those words meant as a small child; I assumed they were synonyms for nerd or dork. I knew I was a sissy and a bookworm, but had no concept of sexuality at that age. Once I hit puberty and started feeling attraction to guys I finally knew what they were saying to me.

My mother was pretty deeply homophobic, called me sissy on a couple of occasions, but always called out any "swishy" or effeminate behavior she saw in a TV show or movie. I came out to her when I was 21, when I had my first boyfriend, who is now my husband 42 years later. My mother didn't handle things well, after maybe a year my partner pulled her aside and told her not to make me choose, because she would lose me, so she did. We were never close going forward. I moved away, and made the obligatory monthly phone call, and visited for a long weekend once a year. I think she probably thought of herself as being accepting, but she was merely tolerant. Towards the end of her life she said to me "why didn't you and John have kids? ...you would have been a wonderful dad. I told her it was a very different world 40 years ago, and shot her a death stare. Parents were divorced, I was much closer to my dad, who was an easy going guy with a great sense of humor.

My mother did it passive-aggressively: "They're gonna call you (pantywaist/sissy/etc.)!". When it was actually her thoughts.

My mother did it passive-aggressively: "They're gonna call you (pantywaist/sissy/etc.)!". When it was actually her thoughts.

OP, did he laugh at your puny cocklet? Did he make you sing humiliating songs and perform degrading dances?

OP Your father was upset because you reeked of designer imposter fragrance. No son of his was going to be a tacky wannabe, he wanted a real Queen Bee for a son. I hope you dropped that Lara person.

My younger brother called me a "f*gg@t," when he was in a drug-fueled rage. I had gone with my mother to bail him out of jail in a local town. When he came down many hours later, he tearfully apologized. I accepted the apology, but it still stung bitterly.

Hello Op. Here is my 2 cents but first a disclaimer. I am not a doctor nor do I profess this is rooted in any understanding of advanced psychology. It is just based on my wits, and anecdotal and personal experience.

Your dad knew you were gay. He doesn’t seem like a wholly bad person. His actions were rooted in love driven by fear. He knew you were gay in 1990 and this was a catalyst that really made the realization fully come to fruition. Let’s review what you stated. He did not immediately call you a faggot. He was upset and just wanted to cleanse you of the girlyness. I think on a subconscious level that is what the shower represents. Think about it. Do you really need to shower off perfume? No, you could wipe it off or simply spray another fragrance over it. Your refusal to shower put him over the edge. It was like you refusing to be straight, to accept heteronormativity. Good people can make mistakes and say some awful things. He didn’t want you to be ostracized, ridiculed, hell maybe even murdered once you reached adulthood. Thank God society progressed. That is why I believe your dad reacted that way.

Interesting take, R39! I never thought of it in that exact way. So basically he was bothered by the fact that I *wasn't* bothered by smelling like a female (whatever the hell that even means). The whole notion of some scents being considered masculine and some being considered feminine is so silly to me whenever I think about it. But yes, he would've definitely suspected I was gay even at 10 years old because I'd been pretty gender nonconforming my entire childhood. He always tried so hard to get me to play sports and I just wasn't having it. In the first ever baby photo my parents had taken of me, they had me holding a fucking football which tells you everything you need to know about what kind of son my parents wanted. And that isn't what they got. I cringe every time I see that photo!

I was called faggot so often by family, friends and navy shipmates that I thought it was my middle name. I’d go out of my way to butch up because I wanted approval so bad. But there was always someone, somewhere who’d call me a fag or gay. Too many arguments and fights over it. Funny thing is that a couple of my tormentors were outed for being gay and lesbian. Some folks have even tried to friend me on Facebook. But the scars are still there.

[quote] My mom was actually the lunatic in that situation. She was curled up in the chair next to the computer crying and said to me, "You're going to be spending a lot more time with your father from now on!"

OMG! She's as overwrought and hysterical as MY mother. They could be sisters.

He was bothered by the idea of you getting AIDS and dying a long, painful death.

Does "Datalounger" count as a gay slur?

People are so fucking awful to each other.

Some shitty comment can really fuck someone up for a long time.

I’m sorry for everyone who had to endure this shit growing up.

I'm sorry that happened. Obviously there was something there that got stirred up but spraying perfume on people who don't want it, especially males, is not okay.

When I did come out to my mom when I was 26, she didn’t eat anything I cooked for over two years.

Funny thing was that she was a licensed hairdresser who was exposed to gays and my dad’s younger brother was very gay and she’d always hang out with him whenever we’d go visit my paternal grandmother (whom I never really liked). She would be smiling in these men’s faces and she’d call them faggots and dykes behind their back AND in front of her children. So many mixed emotions about it all. I’m sixty now and I don’t think I will ever get over this.

Mom was pretty nasty- til I got my tits cut off. Now we're besties.

Sometimes inaction can be worse.

My brother cried at the drop of a hat. Stepbrother called him a “big fag” at the table an argument with my father. That was unwise. While my father and stepmother sat there and said nothing, my brother, with tears running down his face, knocked that loser’s lights out. It happened very fast. But it had been building for years.

My father flipped out, stepmother tried to kick him out of the house. My brother was home from basic training. He fine, gathered his stuff and went to stay at a friend’s place. And yes, my brother was gay. He just snapped.

He never forgave Dad for doing nothing. The stepbrother (now an unemployed pothead evading child support payments) was scared of him after that. My brother later said his first instinct was to hit him over the head with a chair.

Have any of you ever called your dad a cocksucker? Is it actually true?

My dad, who was very accepting of me (in contrast to my mom who wasn't) confided in me that when he was young he had a relationship with a neighborhood boy and that he was the bottom in that pairing (!!). Quite surprising but typical of my Dad's love of oversharing. He just loved sex, fucked every available woman in our town, and never passed judgment on anyone for having a different life.

Not to my face or to anyone they were afraid might tell me. But I'm more than sure my late father, older brother and sister probably did at some point. They also would have never said it in front of my mother or my maternal grandparents, as they would not be alive today if they had.

Russell Tovey approves of your family members and their homophobia

My cousin had prepared baked vegetables. she asked if anyone wanted white sauce and my brother said I liked white sauce. It took me a minute to get the innuendo.

“Be careful not to get sauce on your buns. Oh wait you did on Saturday…..”

Nope. But my dad once sent a Bible-y relative fleeing by responding to some nosy questions about my dating life with "What about [relative's stepson who was a more obvious homo]?" I was impressed that Dad was perceptive enough to suss out that situation and use it to forever shut down a line of inquiry that wasn't coming with positive intent. (Though if it had been, I'm sure he'd have been happy enough to bond over raising their gay kids.)

[quote]Sometimes inaction can be worse.

So true! When I was in 7th grade one of my classmates humiliated me in front of the entire class (for being gay) and what almost bothers me the most about the entire thing whenever I think about it is the fact that my teacher was sitting right there at her desk and didn't do a fucking thing. She just sat there silent and let it happen as the entire classroom had a good belly laugh at my expense. When I look at my 7th grade yearbook now, as an adult, I realize that my tormentors were just young kids so I can almost forgive them for being savage little animals. But my teacher was an adult. It's sad to say, but growing up not one adult ever stood up for me when I needed it. And then people wonder why gays can be so "self-centered"? (My sister asked me once why gay people are so "selfish and self-centered"). Maybe that's why? Because growing up we had to be self-reliant, self-protective and our own best friend. It creates a "me against the world" mentality--at least it did for me back when I was growing up. I'm envious of how gay kids get to come up today...I have to imagine they'll grow into much more well-adjusted, well-rounded adults as a result of the societal changes that have occurred. I'm still shocked by the fact that a gay-straight alliance now exists in the school district I attended. Such a thing would've been unfathomable back in the '90s.

Like R41 it seemed to be something that followed me all through growing up. Somehow somewhere there was always someone who called me a fag or gay. It gets less the older you get but there is at least a time or two a year where someone says something terrible to me but I no longer take any issue. I'm not effeminate and I don't deny who or what I am so it makes no difference to me if someone acts like a shit. The worst my mom once said to was when I was waiting outside my childhood home for like 30 mins waiting to get picked up my friend's mom to go to the movies and when I went back in because I got tired of waiting she asked me what I was doing outside standing around waiting like a faggot. I had no idea what she meant by it until later in life when I realized she was probably meaning that I looked like I was cruising or something. I was 11. I had no idea what that even was.

My mom used to use the word "weirdo" in place of the F word. If I was watching a (gloriously trashy '90s) talk show and there were gay people on it, she'd say "Turn those weirdos off!" Then when I graduated high school I considered moving to Toronto for a summer and she said, "There are a lot of weirdos in Toronto. Are you a weirdo?" Oh and then once it became pretty clear that I was one, she asked me if I'd ever consider being celibate.

Some people really shouldn't have had children if they couldn't stomach the risk of said children turning out to be anything other than little Mini-Me narcissistic clones of themselves.

Yes, if God was real lots of people would be born sterile.

On of my male cousins is gay and his sister told me that when she found out she went and bought the most expensive dress she could find to buy to make herself feel better.

My only brother was nine years older than me, therefore I never knew him very well. When I was 11 years old he was drafted in the Army. At 13 he cam home just before he went to Viet Nam. I just started looking at men and caught me looking at him while he was getting dressed. He said, "What's the matter with you? Are you a fag?" This was in 1967 and I was devastated. A year later he was killed in action and my parents were crying in the living room. I felt no emotion and just walked into the room and asked, "can I have his clothes?" The bastard. I was in therapy for a long time because of him, but now at 70 I am so over it.

I was in the 4th grade in 1995, and while discussing my new music teacher at the dinner table, my Mom said that most gay men are pedophiles. I love my Mom, but I have never been able to tell her just how much these selfish asinine comments *wrecked* how I saw myself in the many difficult years that followed. I'm not ashamed to say that I am jealous of any gay man who didn't have hateful crap like that put in their heads by someone they love and trusted. It must've been wonderful.

Also, my late Father would always "tease me" (accuse me) in front of his brothers about me wanting to be a girl. And my little brother blackmailed teenaged me about me being gay, pretty much forced me out of the closet in a traumatic family scene in a parking lot, and then he would call me a faggot whenever I'd get angry at him in the years that followed. Sometimes I imagine him choking to death and I laugh.

And to think that some dumb cunt with an account here once accused me of not really being gay.

I help take care of my 30 year old half-brother, he thinks hes the shit but in reality hes a big autist with a personality disorder, he fell out of the bed multiple times as an infant due to my mothers idiocy.

He has called me a faggot multiple times especially when we argue about his incompetence...sometimes I wonder if its all an act but something aint right with him like I said fell out of the bed multiple times because my mother wanted to sleep next to him.

To this day she takes no responsibility and unfortunately I am stuck with both of them cause I wanted to be the bigger person and help my family out, big mistake! Now I feel stuck and feel like I have to take care of both of them, my brother hasn't worked an 8hr day ever at a job.

r64, How old are you? maybe it's time for you to move on and let mom deal with him.

Yes.

Of course.

A long time ago, I was talking to a dear female friend on the phone; who was drinking. She had missed work for a few days and her boss called me. I finally got hold of her to fins if she was ok and she told me I wouldn’t understand because I was a queer. I hung up and we never spoke again. Now that I am old and have few friends, I realize I should have let more s—t go over the years.

No. I was called wild. That's cool.

So sorry for you, OP. Kidos to you for being the stronger person that you are by virtue of being here and where you are today. Even as a kid, had my dad said that to me I think I’d have literally tried to reach for the nearest object and hit him over the head with it!

^kudos

r54, I had an in-law give me a mug with pink parrots. I beat them to the punch when I said, " How sweet, you know I always love a cockatoo"

I sometimes have gotten annoyed by the assumptions of straights about being gay. A cousin recently asked me if the home decor of a gay couple we know was "minimalist." It was a seemingly innocent question, but her tone when asking sounded a bit off -- somewhat snide as if I answered yes it would confirm a conviction that gay men had a certain style. Stuff like that bothers me at times.

My oldest sister called me a faggot out of left field in a moment of anger. It still hurts when I think about it. She is the only one in my family to use a slur against me and whenever we argue I always remind her if it.

My father often called me a sissy. One of his favorite lines was, “Why can’t you be more like [random neighbor boy]?”

We had a very contentious relationship. According to him, much of what was wrong in his life was my fault.

We did eventually come to some kind of peace, especially towards the end of his life.

Though I’ve had a lot of therapy and I’m old now, I don’t believe that type of damage, that kind of hurt, ever entirely leaves your psyche. It becomes a part of you.

When I was 11 or 12 I told my mom I didn’t want to go to my tennis lesson because it was really hot that day, and she said to me “you’re such a pansy”. Forty-five years gone by and I still remember that. I got relentlessly bullied in school and called fag and sissy daily and eventually I found out my two chief tormentors were gay too (one now a batshit right wing rad trad Catholic convert, but gay). Mom had a hard time with me when I came out at 23, but eventually she came around and is very supportive of me, my partner and LGBT folks in general. They damage from the school bullying scared me for life though, and I’ve never had much self confidence as a result.

Scarred, not scared. And pansies are tough little flowers. They survive cold temperatures better than most others.

In 1985 we watched the Marlo Thomas t.v. movie "Consenting Adult" as a family. At the end my mother pointed her finger at me and said, "Don't you ever be gay." A few years later my actual coming out was like a scene from an Edward Albee play. To my mother's credit she did come around and truly grew to love my husband and was happy we were together. She often apologized for her fear and lack of understanding during the 80's and early 90's. Mother and husband are both dead now. Even though I don't really believe I like to imagine them sitting together in a big banquette, gossiping and waiting for me to join them.

If the OP has not addressed this with his father by now, he's a fool.

I endured less-violent challenges until my father realized I actually was gay. Then it became more covert. At 14 he sent me to a farm to "see life as it really is." The hunky, tall and feral farmboy with whom I shared a bed tried repeatedly to fuck me, something I knew nothing about. It was bad.

Years later a told my father his attempt to turn my straight involved multiple assaults. (The kid was unsuccessful.) My father laughed.

And I quit visiting for a long time.

R79

I am embarrassed that a situation resulting in trauma for you has always been a fantasy of mine.

I'm sorry that happened to you.

Fantasies rarely equal reality.

And this is why we have chosen families...

R80 Yeah, there's that tricky aspect of that you actually have to be attracted to the person or have a connection for the 'fantasy' to work.

Similar to many here, I endured constant abuse, bullying and name calling in school. Even teachers hate little gay boys. And you figure it out, you figure how to adapt and protect yourself, and usually for me my home was a respite and my family loving. One time I was playing with one of my sisters dolls, which my mom always let me do, and my dad told her she shouldn't let me do that as she is raising a little faggot. I got up and went to my room crying (I think I was about 10?). I was lying on the bed and my mom came into my room to see if I was OK. My father was behind her, only I didn't see him. I asked my mother if Dad still loved me, she turned around to my father and said "see what' you've done?" - then my father sat on my bed and hugged and kissed me and said he was very sorry, and loved me very much and would never say anything like that again....and he never did. I've told this before on here - it's just that so many of these stories make me so sad and mad. So many of us had our (what could have been) happy childhoods taken away. If only adults stopped the bullying, which they could, all I asked for was civility - no one had to like me, I was OK with that. Oh well - it looks like they never grow up. Sometimes I think the only clear thinkers are the marginalized and hated people.

I'd be interested in seeing how many comments here are from Boomers and Xers and how many are from Milleannials and Zoomers. My understanding is that things got a lot better after my generation (X).

One time I was doing a choreographic dance with my sister. I had learned the entire choreography of a popular 90s female singer and video. I was actually teaching my older sister the choreography. I guess I was about 11. My dad came from work and told me I was joining the football team next year. I bitched and moaned but I ended up having a blast. Another time my mom was babying me, I can’t remember exactly. I was younger here, and my dad told my mom “you see…when he ends up like your brother”, who was a flamboyantly gay black man. That’s the extent of my dad’s homophobia.

R80, it was a matter of timing. In a year my reaction would have been different, and I would have recognized some of the things he did as reflecting his being a spoiled, horny kid who didn't know how to approach me. It was clear he had experience with his school friends, but he grew up with them. He came across as a threatening, big teen (and he was), and if I were a year older like he was I could have addressed things as a peer. He was a foot taller than I, and I was a thin, small boy whose cock happened to be bigger than his. (Nude river swimming was encouraged by the culture.)

I went on to have sex when I was 16, but was caught in a grooming relationship with a family friend who was much older, more cunning, and a classic ephebophile. He was a local celebrity and my family admired him. I told my parents about the abuse many years later. My mother threw up and my father looked at the floor.

I see my farm experience as traumatic but also as a missed opportunity. If I had a positive experience with someone my own age I don't think I would have ended up with my years of hell with the perp. The man was a drunk and would do things like beg me to strangle him because of what he did to me.

Anyway, I also remember how, after I told the kid off for being so mean and rough, I woke up in the middle of the night to his gently patting my hair. I wasn't ready and didn't trust him by then, and pretended to sleep until he stopped.

R86 All of that sounds hot. Just kidding.

r74, Good for you. It's important to nurture our childhood resentments like a bonsai tree.

R84 I think you are correct. I spend a lot of time with young people from middle school through high school in my volunteer work, and they really seem to not care about sexuality or gender at all - to them it's all the same. Unfortunately, we are moving backwards and raising another generation of small minded bigots.

I have to laugh at R78. I too had a conversation with my mother after she watched Consenting Adult. I gingerly asked how she would feel having a gay son and she replied she could never accept it. Closet door slammed. I didn't come out until after my mother died.

I may have been that dumb cunt, r63. I remember saying that to someone on DL once and the person got really mad at me. If it was me then I'm sorry.

My aunt started calling me names (sissy, faggot, etc.) when I was 8 or 9, and continued to until I went off to college. I saw her once a year at my grandmother’s house but ignored her. Fast forward to a few years ago, when she sent me a message of Facebook, wanted to “catch up.” I ignored her. When I was home last summer visiting my elderly parents, I saw two of her grandsons on Grindr, sons of two of her sons, my first cousins.

I planted the seed in my dad’s mind by reminding him how vicious his sister was to me and how ironic it is that two of her three grandsons are gay. I showed him their profiles on Grindr and we had a good laugh. Naturally he asked her about it at church the following Sunday. I was back home by then, but he related her vehemently denials. I hope she feels like shit.

No, I don't think so. My siblings are much older and were out of the family house by the time I started school. One was the jackass brother, very vain, a motorhead who would fly into a rage if a leaf landed on his precious car. He spent the majority of his life resenting other people or being sharply critical of them.

He was obsessed that everyone in his family walk right, look right, talk right, hold a fork the right way, drive correctly, have the right kind of pet... For anything, there was a right way and a wrong. Any little transgression of his standards set him off and he was critical of me for years. I would put it past him to have called me a little faggot. It would be totally in character and expected, even, but I don't think he did though I'm sure the idea crossed his mind.

I taught myself to write as well with one hand as with the other. I recall he would erupt because I would reach for something he was passing to me with my "wrong" hand. Instead of just saying, "weird kid", he couldn't fucking let anything rest. Unsurprisingly, his two kids are nervous wrecks.

[quote] And my little brother blackmailed teenaged me about me being gay, pretty much forced me out of the closet in a traumatic family scene in a parking lot, and then he would call me a faggot whenever I'd get angry at him in the years that followed. Sometimes I imagine him choking to death and I laugh

The ONLY thing that nips this in the bud is equal aggression in response, be you verbally ripping him to pieces, or smacking him one.

OP: Give your father a bottle of the designer imposter perfume for this coming Father's Day.

No but my shrink once said I wasn't FLAMING which is I guess a backhanded compliment.

Was your shrink gay or straight, r96?

R97- Straight woman

I feel the same way as so many of you did in these stories when DL turns its scorn on fatties. My own people. Thanks.

Obesity is a choice, R99. Not really the same thing, at all.

My grandmother would barge into my room while I was playing and call me sissy or creampuff and then mock me for sucking my thumb.When I was a teenager i was in the basement putting clothes in the dryer and told my stepdad I was going back up to watch Hairspray or Polyester? He grumbled and said "movies for fags."

My entire family attempted to “straighten” me out from the age of three. I do believe my mother fell in love with a closeted homosexual. Her reactions to anything slightly effeminate in mens’ behavior were visually extreme - eyes staring daggers with fixed grin.

Right, R100. So's unkindness.

To add, I hope the Trump years are particularly painful for you, R100. You're the kind deserves it.

[quote]When I was a teenager i was in the basement putting clothes in the dryer and told my stepdad I was going back up to watch Hairspray or Polyester? He grumbled and said "movies for fags."

OMG, OP here and you just reminded me! Right after my family got our first VCR, my dad (the same dad who was so virulently anti-designer imposter perfume) rented Hairspray, and as we were watching it together he told me that Edna (Divine) was actually a man. And just like that, a new lifelong obsession was born! I was either eight or nine at this time. So thanks, dad!

[quote]To add, I hope the Trump years are particularly painful for you

I don’t live in the states and also am trying to lose weight. Get a grip.

R21 You mother is cruel.

“Your.” ^

I’m just so sorry, to all of you. The cruelty is so damaging and so unnecessary.

r106 Sure you are.

Bump for more sad/funny/ridiculous stories compliments of the straights!

No, but when my dad kind of made me kind of uncloset myself to the family he knew that my mother would be a problem. We were unloading the car when my female neighbour in my grade came by and asked me to prom. I mumbled something about talking about it tomorrow.

When my dad and got inside, he asked [insert name of the boy I had a (obviously not secret like I assumed) crush on] was going. He very casually remarked that he thought we could go together. I carefully replied that he was going with some other girl. My dad said “his loss”, and I looked at him and smiled. He kissed my forehead and that was it.

When I came out for dinner, my mother had obviously been crying. She refused to make eye contact with me until one point when she gave me a hard and furious look. Later on I heard loudly weeping and then her and my father yelling at each other.

Later on my dad came into my room and to nominally ask something and gave me a shoulder squeeze. Throughout that evening siblings paraded into my room and various points and to nominally ask about something and they all gave me a hug.

My mother couldn’t look at me for at least 2 months without getting emotional or cringing when I touched her. We have both made a big effort to get along now and we do but if I’m honest I still haven’t forgiven her for her hysterics. But I’m doubly glad for the low-key kindness of my father and siblings.

No and I often wonder why. I was raised in the late 80s/early 90s and my parents were Catholics that went to church every week (my mother still does). When I told them I was gay my dad was completely fine with it - he actually tried to give me a hug (which was very rare for my dad) and I pushed him away because I was embarrassed. He's no longer with us and I still sometimes feel bad for that.

My mum was a bit upset but only because she was worried for me having a lonely life, rather than because she didn't like the idea of me being gay. She quickly got over that, though.

My parents never said anything bad or good about gay people when I was growing up. It was just never mentioned at all. Ever. But I guess that was typical of the times.

Yes, one of my nephews. He’s on the spectrum and life is hard for him. Part of his problem just frustration and anger which manifests in bad behavior. He’s very hard to like.

My nephew had a pal call me and then call me a faggot. This caught me by surprise (I was grown up)--and I wish I'd had the presence of mind to say "Tell me, did my nephew suck your dick to get you to make this call?"

Yes!

By my lovely older brother. To add insult to injury he added the sobriquet ‘fat’.

Naturally, he lied blatantly to my parents about it.

Are you a fat whore R115?

No, but before I came out some of them would use anti-gay language in my presence

I was called sissy, people constantly asked, Are You a GIRL ir a boy. (im a boy). I believe, even if my sexuality wasn't gay, I was what you'd call 'a Nice boy'. I was always found in some neighbours house having tea with elderly ladies, who's company i loved. They were all so accepting. In school and in my neighbourhood(rough place), I just stood out. I talked more posh, had interests way beyond other boys ways of thinking and had way more charm and personality. The one compliment my mom paid me was, as an adult who had moved away; my mom once said "all the neighbours ask for you, I don't think they know ur sister existed". Id a rough ride growing up gay. Totally ostracised at school; sat by myself at break. And if I was called on to answer a question in class, the class wud chant Gay Gay Gay in an awful effeminate, mocking accent.... i wud sit there extremely mortified. Once I thought about fake fainting , it was so awful. School wasn't about studies, it was survival. Im now very successful and I get some satisfaction that they all know just how successful I am. When I left school I was almost mute; terrified of people hearing my 'gay voice'. Im sure i have PTSD from this. And for 20 years I've put enormous pressure on myself to be attractive in case I bump into anyone from my childhood; so they know im a success. It all sucks really. And tyen youve idiots in positions of power telling us we Chose this. I feel sorry for that little boy..but im really glad im gay, it suits me.

Don't listen to most of the immature queens on this board giving you advice. You stated that your father was generally a loving and wonderful dad. Remember that he too, is a product of his generation. We cannot always apply a "present-mindedness" to events that have happened in the far past and think that they should be handled with a current understanding. Yes, what your father did was painful and brutal. But forgive him. Odds are you did many if not more things to hurt your parents in other ways. Forgiveness needs to rule in our hearts as we age, or else we are going to be miserable. I do understand your hurt for sure. My father did not call me a gay slur once, he did it frequently. I did however forgive him, and we had a very close relationship in my adult years until he passed. But I am sorry that happened to you. It does hurt terribly.

[quote] OP Your father was upset because you reeked of designer imposter fragrance. No son of his was going to be a tacky wannabe, he wanted a real Queen Bee for a son. I hope you dropped that Lara person.

"I'd rather die than have my son come home smelling of cheap designer knock-off products! From now on, it's only Chanel No. 5 for you, missy!"

{((((((HUGS))))))}

He’s fatter than me now, r116.

And needed both ACLs operated on.

When the shit hit the fan in my house, my mother said, "You're better off raising animals in the backyard. At least you can kill them for food". Dad told me to get out of the house, so I did.

I was called a whore and a hussy. Does that count?

My grandmother said I have arms like a girl. Does that count?

Never to my face but all my siblings have snitched on each other to me at one time or another.

My life experience taught me to save forgiveness for people who are genuinely sorry for what they did and are making a sincere effort to do better. And it should be a one-time thing.

how recent was this, r123?

Not a family memeber. at least not to my face. Someone I thought was a good friend. I had moved to LA after college and called my friends back home newyears eve. They were passing the phone around but none of them seemed to even want to talk to me when I heard one of them say 'I don't want to talk to that faggot." Yeah needless to say not my friends anymore.

I love the Uncle Bottoms on this thread demanding that OP and others forgive their family members for calling them by gay slurs.

No one has asked for your opinion on this as to what the OP should do. You're just insisting he do this because of your OWN anxieties and hang-ups and problems forgiving.

I will tell a story later; I'm in too good of a mood to go back to my dark childhood in East Falls& all the stuff that happened with foster care.