The Gay Way

As Gaysians, Peter and I share a lot of experiences, especially those from our more formative years. It’s always been striking to us how similar our upbringings were. We also find that our gay Asian friends often share these formative experiences, even across different ethnicities. Interestingly, however, neither of us have made many Gaysian friends in our adulthood. This is most probably because we lack one of the biggest commonalities with the greater Gaysian community: raving.

In our combined lifetimes, Peter and I can count on one hand the collective total of our rave experiences. I personally only went to one, and at a much later age than the average rave goer. I attended a rave in San Diego at the end of my fellowship with my cousin (an experienced raver) and one of my dear friends. Intriguingly, as I’ve been told, many people adapt to and root much of their identities to raves. After that singular experience (n=1), I’d believe it.

Peter has had a similar experience with this particular intersection of homosexual Asians. Nevertheless, I don’t think that environment is for either of us homebodies. It’s loud, rambunctious, lively, and far too mind-altering for us. We’ve been told though that it’s an experience that even the most reclusive of introverts could enjoy. I’d believe that, having been myself—there’s a large enough crowd that one could just slink into the background and enjoy the event at their own pace.

One thing I particularly like about the idea of raves is what it represents for so many Asian Americans. Somehow, it’s become a gathering ground for people seeking escape from cultural backgrounds often emotionally stifling—especially when juxtaposed with its Western counterpart. This space for emotional expression acts as a respite from the stereotypical Asian societal expectations. Perhaps not so much for Peter, but there were definitely times I felt constricted by the imposed structures and unsaid expectations.

Becoming the quintessential Asian son was already a tall order. Being gay only seemed to compound that pressure. Growing up, and even into young adulthood, I would mentally offset my gayness with academic achievement. Surely, mom and dad would still love me, despite being gay, if I at least brought home good grades and had a good career? It was a loaded and still is a complex part of my identity. Peter, on the other hand, has never consciously faced this dilemma—he’s always been one to do what he wants on his own schedule. He always proudly reminds me that he owes no obligations to familial tradition.

Of course, coming out to my parents was one of the most emotionally taxing ordeals I’ve faced. Even when it came to dating, it was very difficult to break out of the preconditioned mold. I had to constantly remind myself that the person and the qualities I liked may not be the same as who my parents would necessarily like. It took consciously reinforcing that their express approval should take a backseat (very much a Westernized concept). Throughout much of my dating, there was still a very real and alive part of me that wondered if my parents would approve of the person sitting before me.

And yet, funnily enough, Peter ticked all their boxes anyway. How serendipitous that I found someone who exactly would meet both my and their preferences? Naturally, the curiosity that perhaps my parents’ preferences rubbed off on me would cross my mind. Perhaps I subconsciously am dating Peter because his qualities fulfill a latent desire to please my parents. Was this an inescapable fate as I sorted through my various dates?

When I first told my parents I was dating someone seriously, my mom bombarded me with a flurry of questions. I could sense the subtle panic rising in her as she interviewed me on his characteristics. Peter would be the first partner of mine that my parents would meet. They never had to contend with me bringing home a boy before. Again, perhaps I never thought a boy was worth bringing home before Peter?

Needless to say, they warmed up to him rather quickly. Though Peter’s parents were not as inquiring about me, he also noticed that they warmed up to me quickly. I have little to no idea of what qualities, if any, play into their consideration of me. In usual Peter fashion, he does not pay this any mind. He would default to this idea that they will think what they want, and do what they want independent of outside influence. For him, he is only concerned about that which is in his full control and his own defined set of values, wants, and desires. Still, I ponder the formative basis of his desires, if not for the introjection of parental influence. But that’s a separate discussion!

Fulfilling parental desires, whether consciously or subconsciously, is often tied to obligation. Though, how does one gauge whether we are doing something out of obligation or out of authenticity? For myself, there is a rather big overlap of the two. The strongest obligations often are also the most deeply authentic, simply because they carry so much meaning. I’ve grown up attaching notions of “positive” or “negative” to various emotions, thoughts, and behaviors. Is it a bad thing that I want to please my parents? Is it a bad thing that I’ve come to internalize my parents’ values and preference? Whereas I’ve long assigned emotional valence, Peter has always been very much neutral. When I pose these questions to Peter, I am met with eye rolls and the very characteristic “What does it matter?”

As we broach topics such as marriage and family rearing, we face new challenges. It’s one thing for their sons to be dating, but I don’t think our parents imagined what our union could truly entail in the greater picture. Interestingly, there was initially a nonchalance from them about these topics which we found out later was an affective cover for simmering emotions. My parents have warmed up to several of these ideas, though they still harbor some discomfort. I don’t blame them, as this would be completely foreign to their world: two men married and potentially with children. Even the different options of family rearing outside the traditional methods is challenging for them to imagine.

As for Peter’s parents, they understandably hold complex emotions around these topics as well. Regardless of what the emotions are, I find the actual holding and processing of emotions to be equally important. What are our parents actually doing with these emotions? The optimist in me says that our parents are leaning into them and growing toward true acceptance, even in the face of the most difficult emotions. The pragmatist in me wonders whether they hold steadfast to their cultural notions but are approaching our relationship with more internal negotiation. After all, we place them in a difficult situation where the only alternative to forcibly “accepting” our relationship (and it’s trajectory) is a risk of alienation. In other words, we’ve taken away their agency and choice in accepting our relationship.

Peter, again, in this instance asks whether it fundamentally matters if the outcome is unchanged (i.e. we are going to do what we want, when we want). I am curious solely because the way in which we navigate these issues could be done more tactfully. Through tact and thoughtfulness, perhaps we can bring them to a place closer to understanding and acceptance. In lieu of emotional vicissitudes, we can gently ease them into a world wholly unusual to them. This difference in mindset has actually been a big topic in our therapy together. Not only does it affect the way that we handle matters external to our relationship, but internally as well.

In the end, it seems like our internal struggles of identity are displaced upon our very parents. In our struggle to reconcile the tensions of various East-West cultural dynamics, we may be forcing our parents to undergo a parallel process. What it means to be “good” sons is forcing a reconsideration of what it means to be “good” parents.

Whereas it is an overplayed trope that the child of Asian immigrants internally dialogues themes of unworthiness amidst lofty expectations, I wonder if our parents ever experience similar. Do they ever inquire if they are fulfilling the role of a “good enough” parent? Would a cultural background steeped in filial piety be strictly prohibitive of such a thought?

We are uncertain about that. The only things we are certain about are the directions in which we are headed in various arenas of our lives. For now, we’ll continue trekking along these determined paths. In so doing, we can only honor our own wishes. But, I do hope this process brings about much fulfillment for our parents.