My Aunt's Confusion Over My Sexuality in 11 Questions

When you grow up in a traditional Asian family, your every step into adulthood is often met with an amusing mix of advice, cautionary tales, and, inevitably, a flurry of questions. While the journey of self-discovery is a universal rite of passage, adding a unique factor like my sexuality into the mix makes it a much more memorable adventure.

Particularly when you have a character like Aunt Li in your family.

My Aunt Li is the quintessential Asian aunt - a mix of motherly love, old-world wisdom, and a delightfully innocent misunderstanding of everything modern. So, when I came out to her as gay, it was like introducing a child to a complex puzzle. The result was a series of hilarious, bewildering, and downright heartwarming questions and assumptions about my sexuality. So, let's jump into the top 11 whacky misunderstandings my aunt had about my life as a gay man.

"Does this mean you're going to start wearing dresses now?"

This was Aunt Li's first reaction when I came out to her. In her mind, being gay was somehow synonymous with crossdressing. I was baffled for a moment, but her honest mistake was endearing in its innocence.

I explained that while some people in the LGBTQ+ community enjoy crossdressing, being gay doesn't inherently mean that I want to start wearing dresses. I could see the gears turning in her head as she processed the information. Her subsequent chuckle and warm, accepting nod told me that she was beginning to understand.

"Are you going to start speaking in a high-pitched voice?"

Aunt Li's image of a gay man, largely influenced by portrayals in media and pop culture, often involved flamboyance, including a high-pitched voice. I couldn't help but laugh at her earnest curiosity.

I assured her that my voice wouldn't change. I told her that the stereotype of gay men always speaking in high-pitched voices is just that - a stereotype. People's voices, like their personalities, are individual to each person and don't necessarily correspond with their sexuality.

"But won't you miss women?"

When I told Aunt Li that I was gay, she assumed this meant I'd never interact with women again. I had to explain to her that being gay didn't mean I was abandoning the entire female gender.

"Yes, Aunt Li," I said, trying to hold back my laughter. "I can still have meaningful relationships with women, even if they aren't romantic. I still value female friendships and enjoy their company." She seemed relieved and promised to introduce me to her knitting group, a testament to her acceptance and her wonderful, off-beat thought process.

"You're not going to become a hairdresser, are you?"

In Aunt Li's world, there were certain professions "reserved" for gay men. When I revealed my sexuality to her, she immediately asked if I was planning to switch careers to become a hairdresser or a fashion designer.

"Actually, Aunt Li," I replied, amused at her question. "I'm quite content with my job as a hotel manager. Being gay doesn't mean I have to change my career path." Her face conveyed a mix of confusion and relief, but she took my word for it.

"Does this mean you'll start hanging out at those 'gay bars' I've heard about?"

This question was probably my favorite. Aunt Li was worried that I would suddenly abandon my usual haunts and start spending my nights at "those gay bars". She seemed genuinely concerned that my my social life would drastically change and that I'd immerse myself in a foreign scene she heard stories about but didn't fully understand.

With a smile, I explained to her that while some gay people do enjoy going to gay bars, it's not a prerequisite for being gay. "Aunt Li," I said, "just like anyone else, I'll hang out at places where I feel comfortable, and where I can have a good time with friends. Gay bars can be fun, but they don't define my social life."

She heaved a sigh of relief and immediately invited me for a round of mahjong with her friends at her house, ensuring that I still had "proper places" to spend my time. This innocent yet touching concern only brought us closer and added another amusing anecdote to our growing collection.

"Will you join a choir now?"

For reasons unknown, Aunt Li had linked being gay to having a proclivity for choir music. The absurdity of her assumption caught me off guard, and I burst into laughter. I assured her that my singing abilities, or lack thereof, had no correlation with my sexual orientation and that her eardrums were safe from my questionable rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody."

"Are you planning to get a small, fluffy dog?"

Aunt Li's idea of a gay man seemed to include a mandatory accessory - a small, fluffy dog. While I absolutely adore animals, I found her assumption both hilarious and oddly specific. I informed her that my pet choices would continue to depend on my lifestyle and preferences and not on my sexuality.

"Will you start cooking fancy French food?"

Somehow, in Aunt Li's mind, being gay and cooking elaborate French cuisine were inextricably linked. This was particularly entertaining since my culinary skills were limited to whipping up decent ramen and the occasional stir-fry. I explained to her that while I admired the art of French cooking, my being gay wouldn't suddenly imbue me with the spirit of Julia Child.

"Does this mean you'll start watching romantic movies and cry at the end?"

In Aunt Li's cinematic universe, being gay meant having an affinity for tear-jerking romantic films. I grinned and told her that my movie preferences spanned multiple genres and that my being gay wouldn't necessarily make me a fan of romantic dramas or suddenly make me more emotional (Even though I have shed a lot of tears during my reruns of 'The Notebook' but Aunt Li didn't need to know that).

"Are you going to decorate your apartment with rainbow flags?"

Upon learning about my sexuality, Aunt Li had the notion that my living space would undergo a radical transformation, with rainbow flags as the primary decor element. While I do appreciate the symbolism of the rainbow flag, I explained that my home decor would continue to reflect my personal style, which leans more towards minimalism than vibrant colors.

"Do you have to go to parades now?"

Aunt Li's perception of a gay lifestyle included mandatory participation in pride parades. While I absolutely support these events and their message of love and acceptance, I explained to her that attendance isn't a requirement. I did promise, though, that if I ever participated in one, she'd be the first to know.

Navigating through Aunt Li's series of misconceptions about my sexuality was like walking through a minefield of cultural stereotypes, media influences, and traditional beliefs. It was a journey full of laughter, absurdity, and a series of "Aha!" moments. But beneath the surface of each hilarious misunderstanding, there was an underlying thread of unconditional love and a genuine attempt to understand my truth.

Aunt Li's innocent questions and her readiness to accept the answers showed me the power of open dialogue. It reminded me that while coming out can be a daunting task, especially in a traditional family, it also presents an opportunity to educate, enlighten, and grow closer as a family.

So, to anyone embarking on their own journey of coming out - brace yourself for some truly memorable conversations. Remember to approach each misunderstanding with patience, love, and a good sense of humor. And who knows, you might end up with an aunt as cool as mine, ready to march in a pride parade or knit a rainbow scarf for your nonexistent fluffy dog.