Anmol is hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse
and has suggested we speak on the subject
of Pride. I've chosen to relate a personal
experience, which addresses the issue quite
well, I think.
Submitted to dVerse
June 17, 2020
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I’m reminded of an event long, long ago. An employee had asked me to join her for dinner. It was obvious she was in quite an emotional state. I knew she had just lost a dear friend, and I thought that to be the cause of her tumultuous emotions. After idle conversation, with trembling voice, at last with great effort she said “I have to tell you something. I am gay”. I looked at this intelligent, caring woman with a wonderful spirit and sense of humor, and admirable work ethic, whom I‘d come to genuinely like and treasure as an employee. I was moved that sharing that information was obviously so traumatic for her. I reached across the table, took her hand, and replied, “Well, I’m Methodist. If that doesn’t bother you, your being gay doesn’t bother me!” She later moved to another state, but we remained friends, and in contact for the next 45 years until her death last year. She never did mind that I was a Methodist!
A blog for the midnight epiphanies and idle thoughts of a hopeless wordaholic.
I believe there is nothing more beautiful than knowing the person we are confiding in understands and accepts us completely!💝
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful answer. It is still hard in this world to know how someone will react to such a revelation.
ReplyDeleteI love that answer... and yes I have faced similar situations, and it has always worked out well. I remember the joy of being at a gay wedding.
ReplyDelete;o) Love it..I was a Methodist as well and reassured that your friend wouldn't hold it against me.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing. I've had similar conversations, and though it never mattered to me, I understood how scary it was for the person telling me. Great answer from you. 😀
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteA perfect response, breaking the ice, but the fact that she shared her truth with you, says a lot about you, dear lady.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mish. I'm told my employees called me "Old Iron Pants", but they invite me for their "old times luncheons", so I take it as a term of affection and respect....
DeleteGreat true story, Bev!
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