An Acceptable Pear

OUR ADDICTION TO APPROVAL

One of the principles Peter and I agree upon is that you cannot really change people. Peter takes it one step further and does not even try to influence people. When it comes to our parents, both of us have similar backgrounds with coming out as gay. Neither of our parents were initially supportive or accepting of our sexuality. Both of us maintained good relationships with our respective parents throughout the years despite the lack of acceptance.

Learning this about Peter’s background made me nervous on two levels: (1) I would eventually want for him to meet my parents and (2) I would eventually want to meet his. And ideally, for all parties to get along, hopefully beyond just cordialities. I’ve long held tightly onto the idea of being accepted into my partner’s family. Though for Peter, he is a little more pragmatic. He does not share the same level of sentiment for this dream or desire for families to get along. Naturally, he would prefer if everybody got along, but he also would not be as torn if things did not work out.

Even years after I came out to my parents, my mom would repeatedly ask if I’d at least try dating a girl—just to see if I’d like the experience. I felt very uncomfortable even discussing my dating life with her. Peter was the first guy I seriously told my parents about. Soon thereafter, he would be the first guy I introduced to my parents.

Peter, on the other hand, has introduced several past boyfriends to his family. He did this despite knowing that his family was not particularly comfortable with the idea of gay relationships. This difference in approach is reflective of our respective feelings around the subject.

My trepidation mirrored the anxiety and fear of rejection of my choice of partner, which on a deeper level translated into an ultimate rejection of my self by my very own parents. This anxiety lingered despite years prior, I had already told them I would continue living my life dating men. It would be their prerogative whether they wanted to be part of it.

Peter’s nonchalance toward the situation stemmed simply from not overthinking the situation—if his folks disapproved, then so be it. There was nothing more, in his opinion, that he could do to convince them otherwise, so why fret?

Just over three months into dating, I was encouraged by Peter to attend Thanksgiving dinner with his family. Panic set in—I barely knew anything about his family at this point, and wasn’t it a little early to be inviting me to such an event? Peter thought little of it, as he indicated we’d just have dinner then play board games with his siblings.

Though apprehensive at the time, I accepted the invitation and hurriedly consulted my friends on what to do. Being raised in an Asian immigrant household myself, I knew that at the very least, I needed to come bearing fruit—err, gifts. After some deliberation, I decided to bring a whole dozen of Korean pears. Peter called it excessive, but I considered it a safe move.

Despite the precautionary overabundance of fruit, I was not destined for deliverance from an awkward first encounter. I fumbled and mumbled nervously as I handed the pears off to Peter’s mom who was clearly busy cleaning the kitchen. I quickly scuttled out of the kitchen and into Peter’s room for some fresh air, dizzied from butchering my first impression. Peter and his younger sister watched all of this unfold as bystanders.

Dinner commenced shortly after my arrival, and much to my relief, went much more smoothly. His father was very warm and eased me into much conversation. His mom also slowly warmed up as well. We were able to enjoy some of the pears at the end of dinner together—a sweet close to a nerve-wracking evening.

By the end of the evening, as I was leaving, his mom saw me out and we said our goodbyes. On my drive back to my apartment, Peter called me to let me know that this was the first time he’s noticed her drop what she was doing (cleaning) to walk a stranger out and personally say goodbye. Peter was happy with the outcome. So, despite my catastrophizations, I sighed a sigh of relief and slept easy that night.

I would see them again on Christmas day where I brought over Taiwanese pineapple cakes this time. That time went much more smoothly, though as fate would have it, his family just bought the same box of pineapple cakes while on vacation in Texas.

My subsequent encounters with his parents have become easier and they now greet me very warmly. I’ve even cooked and prepared dinner with Peter for them on a few occasions. Though I am hopeful their perspective of me is a positive one, I take solace in knowing that I am putting my best effort forward in getting to know them.

It took awhile longer for me to introduce Peter to my own family, partly due to anxieties and partly due to scheduling difficulties. About six months in by this time, I had already told them about Peter. My mom in particular had already asked a flurry of questions about him, though consistently shied away from any proposal to have them meet him. It was almost like my mom wanted (or needed) to accustom herself mentally to him before meeting him in person.

I had them meet over lunch along with my brother who was visiting from out of state. Peter was not nearly as nervous as I was when meeting his parents, but still wanted to make a good impression. He asked me to help him put together a few gifts for my parents. I helped him acquire a Labubu (which my mom has now dressed up in designer clothes), a Mofusand sweater, and a box of taro cakes—all things that I knew my mom would love.

Peter found my mom to be very warm and talkative during lunch. My dad is not much of a talker, but I noticed him making more of an effort to engage with Peter. In fact, my mom usually is quite shy around people she is not familiar with.

Shortly after this lunch, my parents went to Spain and Portugal, only to come back with matching espresso cups and hats for me and Peter. Was this their first step toward acceptance?

Since then, Peter has been over for dinner on multiple occasions. My parents now set a table for four whenever they invite me home for dinner. My mom even sees us off with homemade food every time, and is always sure to text me on the side to inquire if Peter is enjoying the food. They make sure to pack extra home-grown fruits as well, a true testament of filial devotion. My dad has also been active in our lives, volunteering his handy skills around our apartment and helping us with plant care.

We’ve been very pleased with how things are going with our parents. Peter has always preferred to date guys who are openly out to their families. His most successful relationships have been with people who are fully out and he admires this authenticity.

Though, whether his partner has a working relationship with their parents due to misaligned views on sexuality is not of great concern to him. Rather, he makes an effort to get along with my parents because he knows my parents are important to me. He knows that I will be caring for my parents in their old age, and if he’s to be part of my journey, he will form a lasting relationship with them early on.

Growing up and seeing how my parents meshed well with their respective in-laws, I dreamed of something similar for myself. I wanted to expand the circle of those I love and care for in my life. And of course, like Peter, if my partner’s family is important to them, then they are also important to me. It only makes sense that I put in the work to build relationships with them as well. Reception has been positive on both sides thus far.

As Peter and I progress in our relationship, we are happy to have our parents slowly join and celebrate our journey despite any initial reticence. Coincidentally, our parents share similar cultural backgrounds, so next on our radar was having them meet and hopefully get along!

XOXO,

Howard and Peter