"Welcome."

Story Sent in by Mia:

In my early 20s, Ruth contacted me online and we clicked on every level: food, movies, music, you name it. It didn't take long for us to meet in person, and we had a whirlwind first date, in which nine hours passed like nine minutes. I wasn't expecting to have as good a time with her as I did, yet there it was.

Over the following weeks, we saw each other often, but while I introduced her to just about every member of my family (and most of my friends) during that time, I barely met any of her friends, and none of her family. I didn't think it was my place to pry, but finally, one night, helped by a bottle of wine, I asked her if everything was okay on that end.

She told me that a few years prior, she had almost come out to her younger brother, Jacob, but when she had broached the topic, he had said something homophobic and she had shut up completely. Apparently, her family shared some conservative views. I wanted to be understanding, but in so short a time, our relationship had become (at least from my point of view) serious, and I wasn't sure how she wanted to proceed.

Not long afterward, I stopped hearing from Ruth completely. I tried to contact her, but she didn't respond to my emails or texts, and my phone calls went straight to voicemail. I assumed that our wine-enriched conversation had spooked her about continuing on with me, and so, at least partially blaming myself, I picked up the pieces and moved on.

A year and a half later, I was in a relationship with someone else, Erin. Ruth called me out of the blue and asked me if I wanted to meet over a drink.

We met, Ruth told me that indeed, she had developed a significant fear of spending more time with me, and had ended things as a result. She wanted my forgiveness. I told her that of course I forgave her, and I urged her to come out to her family, which she hadn't yet done. She had, however, gone on a string of really bad dates with some men. She even told me, "I felt like I was betraying you the entire time." Yeah, that was great to hear.

Anyway, I told Ruth about Erin, and Ruth said that she wished me well and that she wanted to keep lines of contact open. I agreed on that, and we stayed in touch over the ensuing months.

Not too long after that, my relationship with Erin ended amicably, and I turned my thoughts to dating around again. However, one evening, Ruth called me up in tears. She told me that she couldn't take it anymore and had come out to her family, consisting of her parents, Jacob, and her younger sister. Her younger sister had been supportive, but her parents had told her that they needed time to think things through, and implied (according to her) that they wanted her to leave the house as they did so. She was at a friend's apartment and begged me to come and see her, which of course I did.

When I made it there, she was a bit of a mess, and she asked me, "What if they tell me they never want to see me again?" and a dozen other "What ifs." I did my best to be reassuring, which all boiled down to me basically saying, "You showed them who you really are, and I'm sure they'll realize that they did the right thing, to raise someone with your honesty."

I also recommended that if she didn't hear from them by the following morning, that she should go to their house and speak with them. After all, I didn't see the point in waiting. What if it took them a week? Or a month? She was their daughter, after all.

She resisted the idea at first, but finally relented when I told her that I respected her no matter what she chose to do. We kissed that night, for the first time in a while, and it felt just as wonderful as the first time. We held each other all that night.

Around noon the next day, she returned to her parents' house.

Two hours later, she called me up as I sat in a coffee shop. She asked me if I'd come over to her parents' house.

A young man opened the door, who I (correctly) guessed was Jacob.

"Jacob?" I asked.

He didn't say a word. He gave me a huge hug and said, "Welcome."

I cried my eyes out.

Ruth and I are now married.


*

Everyone has bad dates. Everyone should have equality. A Bad Case of the Dates supports equal rights for same-sex couples.