Mom, Dad, there's something we have to talk about. I've been wanting to tell you this for some time, and I want you to know that while I'm fully aware this might be difficult for you to hear, remember, I am still your son, and I love you very much: Mom, Dad, I'm gay, and so help me God, I am stronger than the both of you, and I won't hesitate to beat you back to the Stone Age if you give me any shit about this.
I know this must be tough for you. I understand this isn't how you expected your son to turn out, and I know you might be disappointed, but just remember that I go to the gym seven days a week and can bench-press 275 pounds easy. I take excellent care of my body, so while you can be upset, you better be careful and watch how you handle yourselves here, because if you so much as make a sarcastic remark or do anything to take advantage of how vulnerable I am right now, this will end ugly for the both of you.
Bottom line: I was born this way. It wasn't a choice. It was, however, a choice to develop huge biceps like this, so take a good long look at them before you think of uttering a hurtful or bigoted remark.
Look, I'm not naïve. I know how you feel about homosexuality, because you've been very clear on that subject in the past. That's why it took me so long to tell you. Dad, you've said some very hateful things, not considering for a second that I might be gay, and it hurt. Not nearly as much as it will hurt when I throw you across the room if you ever say any of those shitty things again, but it still stung.
I'm a gay man, and I'm proud of it. I'm also super fast and can lift you both over my head and slam you into the ground, no problem. I've recently incorporated kettlebells into my workout routine, and while I don't expect you to understand the physical impact they've had on my body, I can tell you I've put on at least 15 pounds of sheer muscle since the last time you saw me—certainly enough to take out two homophobic parents in their 60s. Mom, what do you weigh? One hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet? Well, it's going to take a lot more than that to bring me down, I'll tell you that much. I'm 2 percent body fat, have washboard abs, and can do 50 pull-ups in a row easy. Just remember that as we continue this conversation.
You want me to be happy, right? Because I can assure you, you don't want to see me unhappy.
Look, I think both of you have known in your heart of hearts that I was gay. You can deny it all you want, but if you try to do something stupid like convince me that I'm not a homosexual and that this is all somehow in my head, I'll put you in a Jujitsu hold where I can dislocate your shoulder with one little tug. I've been taking mixed martial arts classes at this place in the city, and I'm getting pretty good. I'm actually thinking about competing in a tournament in a few months. The point is, if I can make my opponents submit in less than a minute, imagine what I could do to two arthritic senior citizens. Dad, I love you. I've always craved your approval, but you don't move as fast as you used to. You know it and I know it.
You're probably wondering when this all started. Well, I think I've always known I was different, but in college, when I began to get pretty heavy into weight training and sculpting my hulking physique, I also began experimenting with my sexuality. Does this make you uncomfortable? Well, so will your ribs cracking in half and making it impossible to breathe right for three months, so just sit there and listen, because there's more.
I have been in a relationship with another man for the past two years. You've met him. His name is Tony, and he's not my roommate, he's my boyfriend. We're in love, and if I so much as see a pained expression cross your faces because you're imagining Tony and I together, or because you thought I would marry Jennifer—which was always a completely ridiculous notion—Mom, Dad, I'll literally take you down and start kneeing you in the stomach. I seriously will. Over and over again. Also, Tony is a little stronger than me so I definitely wouldn't mess with him, either.
Tony and I are probably going to get married. Dad? What was that? Were you about to say something? Were you about to open your stupid mouth and say something that could absolutely destroy me emotionally? I didn't think so. That's why I'm going to put you back on the ground now instead of throwing you into the china cabinet. And Mom, stop crying. It's just making me angrier.
Tony and I are going to adopt children. We're going to raise a family. You are going to have grandchildren, and you're going to love them. Dad, you're going to teach them all the things you taught me, and Mom, they're going to call you Grandma, and you are going to be so thrilled to be a major part of their lives that my being gay will be the last thing on your mind.
So come here right now and give me a hug or I'll knock your fucking heads off.
I know this must be tough for you. I understand this isn't how you expected your son to turn out, and I know you might be disappointed, but just remember that I go to the gym seven days a week and can bench-press 275 pounds easy. I take excellent care of my body, so while you can be upset, you better be careful and watch how you handle yourselves here, because if you so much as make a sarcastic remark or do anything to take advantage of how vulnerable I am right now, this will end ugly for the both of you.
Bottom line: I was born this way. It wasn't a choice. It was, however, a choice to develop huge biceps like this, so take a good long look at them before you think of uttering a hurtful or bigoted remark.
Look, I'm not naïve. I know how you feel about homosexuality, because you've been very clear on that subject in the past. That's why it took me so long to tell you. Dad, you've said some very hateful things, not considering for a second that I might be gay, and it hurt. Not nearly as much as it will hurt when I throw you across the room if you ever say any of those shitty things again, but it still stung.
I'm a gay man, and I'm proud of it. I'm also super fast and can lift you both over my head and slam you into the ground, no problem. I've recently incorporated kettlebells into my workout routine, and while I don't expect you to understand the physical impact they've had on my body, I can tell you I've put on at least 15 pounds of sheer muscle since the last time you saw me—certainly enough to take out two homophobic parents in their 60s. Mom, what do you weigh? One hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet? Well, it's going to take a lot more than that to bring me down, I'll tell you that much. I'm 2 percent body fat, have washboard abs, and can do 50 pull-ups in a row easy. Just remember that as we continue this conversation.
You want me to be happy, right? Because I can assure you, you don't want to see me unhappy.
Look, I think both of you have known in your heart of hearts that I was gay. You can deny it all you want, but if you try to do something stupid like convince me that I'm not a homosexual and that this is all somehow in my head, I'll put you in a Jujitsu hold where I can dislocate your shoulder with one little tug. I've been taking mixed martial arts classes at this place in the city, and I'm getting pretty good. I'm actually thinking about competing in a tournament in a few months. The point is, if I can make my opponents submit in less than a minute, imagine what I could do to two arthritic senior citizens. Dad, I love you. I've always craved your approval, but you don't move as fast as you used to. You know it and I know it.
You're probably wondering when this all started. Well, I think I've always known I was different, but in college, when I began to get pretty heavy into weight training and sculpting my hulking physique, I also began experimenting with my sexuality. Does this make you uncomfortable? Well, so will your ribs cracking in half and making it impossible to breathe right for three months, so just sit there and listen, because there's more.
I have been in a relationship with another man for the past two years. You've met him. His name is Tony, and he's not my roommate, he's my boyfriend. We're in love, and if I so much as see a pained expression cross your faces because you're imagining Tony and I together, or because you thought I would marry Jennifer—which was always a completely ridiculous notion—Mom, Dad, I'll literally take you down and start kneeing you in the stomach. I seriously will. Over and over again. Also, Tony is a little stronger than me so I definitely wouldn't mess with him, either.
Tony and I are probably going to get married. Dad? What was that? Were you about to say something? Were you about to open your stupid mouth and say something that could absolutely destroy me emotionally? I didn't think so. That's why I'm going to put you back on the ground now instead of throwing you into the china cabinet. And Mom, stop crying. It's just making me angrier.
Tony and I are going to adopt children. We're going to raise a family. You are going to have grandchildren, and you're going to love them. Dad, you're going to teach them all the things you taught me, and Mom, they're going to call you Grandma, and you are going to be so thrilled to be a major part of their lives that my being gay will be the last thing on your mind.
So come here right now and give me a hug or I'll knock your fucking heads off.
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