Dispatches from Left Field: Prayers for Mommy

This week, Matt reflects upon the new made-for-TV-movie, Prayers for Bobby and his own experiences with coming out.

In 1983, Bobby Griffith jumped to his death from a freeway overpass. For four years he had been struggling with his sexual orientation--and his family's reaction to it. While tragic, his death inspired his mother to become a strong advocate of gay rights.

Bobby's life and his mother's reaction to his death were the subject of a 1996 book by Leroy Aarons, called, "Prayers for Bobby: A Mother's Coming to Terms With the Suicide of Her Gay Son." Saturday, Lifetime Television aired a film adaptation of the book. Called simply, "Prayers for Bobby," the movie was a sad, yet inspiring.

When Bobby is outed to his conservative, evangelical family, it starts a harrowing part of his life. Desperate to find his mother's acceptance yet be true to himself, his self-esteem continued to fall until his soul was beyond repair. Believing that his mother would never love him for who he was, he took his own life.

Yet that act shocked his mother into questioning her own beliefs. Eventually, she found herself an advocate for gay sons and daughters. Her transformation is heartwarming, but is tragic because of her loss.

Bobby's struggle with his family somewhat reminded me of my own. I came out to my parents over three years ago, but I don't feel like I've made very much progress beyond the few baby steps made in the first few months. And I can't for the life of me figure out why it bothers me so much.

I can still remember when I came out to them--like it was yesterday. I made a trip home from college, which was only about 50 miles, but was fairly rare, so they knew something was up. I suppose I really surprised them. My dad said "Bullshit" and my mom said "Why do you think that?" Despite my best efforts to explain to them that I was gay and that there was nothing wrong with me, I went back to Atlanta disappointed and stressed more than ever.

I hadn't really been ready to come out to my parents, but I'd had little choice in the matter. I'd been coming out to friends at college for a couple of weeks, and while I hadn't come out to my (conservative, fundamentalist) roommate, I knew he'd figure it out eventually. And his mother knew my mother. And my roommate, always eager to help, would have seen it as his duty to help me by making sure my parents found out. He would have intended for them to get me "help." So I headed him off and did it myself. I didn't want my parents to hear it from someone else.

Over the next few months I had to deal with a lot of the same issues that came up in the film. My dad wanted to know how I could be sure I was gay if I'd never been with a man. My mom thought I just hadn't met the right woman yet. At least originally, my father was convinced that all gay people eventually died of AIDS. All the gay people he'd ever known (like three) had died in the early 1980s of that disease, and I suppose he feared his only son would too.

Even today, three years later, my mom thinks it's "just a phase." Of course that's an improvement from her original belief that I was just confused. Both of my parents still refer to me as their son, "who thinks he's gay," not their gay son. Of course, they don't discuss it much.

Like Mary Griffith, my mother grew up in a fundamentalist church, and that has shaped her views. She thinks it's a sin, and she thinks it's unnatural. But unlike Bobby's mother, she doesn't condemn me for it. Neither of my parents has disowned me or mistreated me because of my orientation. But they haven't accepted it either.

Originally, I was loathe to discuss any relationships I was having. I was afraid that when one failed, it would only prove to them that they were right--that I was a confused straight male and that gay people were doomed to miserable lives. I still think that they believe that last bit. They seem to think that all my life, I will be denied jobs and be at risk for homophobia. They don't think I will be happy as long as I masquerade as a fruit.

But despite the lack of my parents' acceptance, I am happy. I have a good life, and other than this recession, I have few complaints. I have tried to show them that I am happy, but it doesn't seem to have made much difference. In May, my boyfriend and I flew down from Washington to go to a wedding in Atlanta. We stayed at my parents' house. In separate rooms, as my mom insisted. Still, I hoped that introducing my boyfriend would prove something. It doesn't seem to have done so.

They met him again in July and for Thanksgiving here in Washington, and yes, it was the same boyfriend. I've been with the same man for over a year now, but my mom still thinks my orientation is a phase.

When I saw that the film was debuting, I had my parents watch it. I haven't yet heard their reflections of it, but it would surprise me if it has made much of a difference in their attitudes.

I have no intention on giving up (either on life or on my parents), but I'm at wit's end as far as what I can do to get acceptance from my parents. I'm also at a loss to understand why it's so important to me. If I've not had to face any negative consequences, why do I find it so important for my parents to start thinking of me as their gay son, and not accepting any apologies for it?

I don't think my own mother will ever stand at the front of the PFLAG delegation at the Pride Parade, but I do hope for some improvement. I've encouraged her to go to PFLAG meetings amongst other things, but the best I can get out of her is for her to talk to her minister. And trust me, that's bad. He's not the gay-friendly type of minister.

I hope that in time, things will work out. But I'm impatient. Three years is a long time to wait, and I wonder how many more are yet to come. Regardless, I'll continue to struggle. And someday, I pray I'll be successful.