Lustful thoughts, wet dreams, masturbation—these things are just as integral to adolescents as pimples and bad haircuts. Many of us grew up in homes where sex wasn’t discussed, but there was an understanding that our compulsions were not wrong—they simply were.
Being gay is not like that. Being gay is painful. It is the belief that your sexuality must be repressed because acting on it would start a shit storm you’re not sure you’d live through. Being gay is the keen awareness that you are somehow breaking your parents’ hearts by being yourself. Budding sexuality can be embarrassing, but coming out can be downright devastating.
For some reason it took the recent rash of gay teen suicides to really send the point home: Being young and gay is incredibly difficult. Now, what if you had hyper-traditional Mexican parents who clung to their gender roles and embraced Catholicism as if their lives depended on it?
Traditional gender roles are alive and well in homes with immigrant parents and first-generation American children. Mama tends to the house and kids. Papa is macho and quiet—and what he says goes. Girls are raised to be subservient and polite, many having curfews well into their twenties. As long as they contribute, boys come and go as they please. The family attends church on Sundays, and often, adult children live at home, waiting until marriage to move out, despite being college educated and having steady jobs. It’s the typical nuclear family, Mexican style.
During adolescence, Lydia, Iveth, and Felix tried to convince themselves they were straight, but each eventually came to the realization that their homosexuality wasn’t something they could ignore. In high school, Lydia wasn’t aware there was a label for what she was, she just knew she was drawn to girls. Felix can distinctly remember watching Aladdin as an 8-year-old, and how the bronzed, buff cartoon character elicited the most delicious ache “down there.” At night, he’d dream of kissing the strong and handsome men featured on the novelas his mother watched during the day, waking up in the morning to find a sticky mess in his pants. In seventh grade, Iveth couldn’t control her roving eye in the girls’ locker room.
Growing up in an environment that so strongly emphasizes family and the roles each of us play in that family can make coming out feel like a betrayal. Just as these three Mexican American twentysomething’s instinctively knew that they were gay, they also knew in their bones that this would be a part of their life they could never fully share with their loved ones.
Being gay is not like that. Being gay is painful. It is the belief that your sexuality must be repressed because acting on it would start a shit storm you’re not sure you’d live through. Being gay is the keen awareness that you are somehow breaking your parents’ hearts by being yourself. Budding sexuality can be embarrassing, but coming out can be downright devastating.
For some reason it took the recent rash of gay teen suicides to really send the point home: Being young and gay is incredibly difficult. Now, what if you had hyper-traditional Mexican parents who clung to their gender roles and embraced Catholicism as if their lives depended on it?
Traditional gender roles are alive and well in homes with immigrant parents and first-generation American children. Mama tends to the house and kids. Papa is macho and quiet—and what he says goes. Girls are raised to be subservient and polite, many having curfews well into their twenties. As long as they contribute, boys come and go as they please. The family attends church on Sundays, and often, adult children live at home, waiting until marriage to move out, despite being college educated and having steady jobs. It’s the typical nuclear family, Mexican style.
During adolescence, Lydia, Iveth, and Felix tried to convince themselves they were straight, but each eventually came to the realization that their homosexuality wasn’t something they could ignore. In high school, Lydia wasn’t aware there was a label for what she was, she just knew she was drawn to girls. Felix can distinctly remember watching Aladdin as an 8-year-old, and how the bronzed, buff cartoon character elicited the most delicious ache “down there.” At night, he’d dream of kissing the strong and handsome men featured on the novelas his mother watched during the day, waking up in the morning to find a sticky mess in his pants. In seventh grade, Iveth couldn’t control her roving eye in the girls’ locker room.
Growing up in an environment that so strongly emphasizes family and the roles each of us play in that family can make coming out feel like a betrayal. Just as these three Mexican American twentysomething’s instinctively knew that they were gay, they also knew in their bones that this would be a part of their life they could never fully share with their loved ones.
I just returned from a trip to Mexico City where I stayed with two gay dads and their 18 year old son. They were a loving and wonderful family (though the boy was treated like a precious baby). I asked one of the boys friends if the boy was teased and he said yes. His take was that most people didn't understand and didn't like gays, but he himself was cool with it. I suppose that's not to different than how alternative families are treated here in the US. Thanks for the article!