The Wedding: A Family's Coming Out Story by Doug Wythe, Andrew Merling, Roslyn Merling, Sheldon Merling Page B
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which we
paced half the length of Bloomingdale’s, losing the salesman somewhere between
bedding and china, I stopped suddenly, and stared him down. “I’m not leaving
this store without those sofas. Every furniture salesperson in Manhattan knows
us by name. This is it. I’m not looking anyplace else. If we can’t agree on
this now, we’ll be stuck with those two crappy old couches till we’re ready for
retirement! You were happy with this set, in sea foam green , then you
got cold feet. If we can’t compromise now - how can we ever do it?”
No reaction. I’d have to get tough.
“You leave with a couch , or you
leave with out me .”
Nothing. So turning on the drama wasn’t going to
do it. I had one last idea that I hoped would demonstrate how ludicrous this
struggle was. “So why don’t we flip a coin?”
To my dismay, his eyes lit up.
“Forget it,” I snapped. “If we’re ever going to
make us work, we’ve got to be able to make this work. We’re
making a decision, and sticking with it, and leaving this store with a new set
of living room furniture.”
We stood, locked eye to eye, stock still.
He blinked.
And two months later, we took shipment of the
furniture that graces our living room to this day. Two lovely Bloomingdale’s
couches.
ANDREW And yes, they were
sea-foam green. So don’t let Doug tell you I can’t compromise.
After that, it became apparent that everything
would work itself out. And eventually, it did. With counseling and mutual
understanding, we both made it through a frightening time. And we had a new,
stronger connection. It was as if, having weathered the tempest of our first
months, we were survivors of the same catastrophe, sharing the bond of
veterans.
DOUG Our small circle of two was
much stronger, but there was a subtext that I began to sense lurking almost
imperceptibly around the edges of our familial dynamic. On the surface, Sheldon
and Roslyn were uncommonly open and accepting of Andrew, and me, and our
relationship. Speaking for myself, I never felt Sheldon and Roslyn treated me
like a lesser person, or somehow different because of my sexuality. And yet I
began to recognize an undercurrent that suggested that Andrew and I, as a
couple, were indeed seen as different.
At least they saw us as some kind of couple.
Until our engagement, the independence I’d long had from my own parents - and
the communication we’d never had - allowed key truths to remain veiled, and
pushed Sheldon and Roslyn to the center of our increasingly pressurized
extended family, placing a great unspoken burden on them.
As it would for so many things, the wedding
eventually exposed many of the unexplored issues that had quietly chipped away
at the foundations of our familial relationships. It would force new awareness
on many fronts, from the distance built up between me and my parents, to the
conflict spurred by my moving in with Andrew.
ROSLYN The
conflict Doug sensed in our family had been brewing for a long time; although I
did my best to smooth over any potential problems, trying to keep everyone
happy and comfortable. One night, however, so much that had been below the
surface bubbled up.
Sheldon’s 60th birthday party had been in the
planning stages for months. I had gone all-out in an effort to make it unique,
to personalize it for Sheldon, reserving one of our favorite restaurants,
putting together a menu with all the food he liked, creating a multi-tiered
sports-themed birthday cake (one layer was a basketball court, another a tennis
court), laboring for weeks on a video I planned to show that night. By the
evening of the event I was on overload, from the basic logistics to the menu,
seating, video, music, and the comfort of our guests.
From the minute we began getting dressed,
Sheldon became another person, harsh, overbearing, overreacting to anything and
everything. By the time we arrived at dinner and sat down at the head table
with our
paced half the length of Bloomingdale’s, losing the salesman somewhere between
bedding and china, I stopped suddenly, and stared him down. “I’m not leaving
this store without those sofas. Every furniture salesperson in Manhattan knows
us by name. This is it. I’m not looking anyplace else. If we can’t agree on
this now, we’ll be stuck with those two crappy old couches till we’re ready for
retirement! You were happy with this set, in sea foam green , then you
got cold feet. If we can’t compromise now - how can we ever do it?”
No reaction. I’d have to get tough.
“You leave with a couch , or you
leave with out me .”
Nothing. So turning on the drama wasn’t going to
do it. I had one last idea that I hoped would demonstrate how ludicrous this
struggle was. “So why don’t we flip a coin?”
To my dismay, his eyes lit up.
“Forget it,” I snapped. “If we’re ever going to
make us work, we’ve got to be able to make this work. We’re
making a decision, and sticking with it, and leaving this store with a new set
of living room furniture.”
We stood, locked eye to eye, stock still.
He blinked.
And two months later, we took shipment of the
furniture that graces our living room to this day. Two lovely Bloomingdale’s
couches.
ANDREW And yes, they were
sea-foam green. So don’t let Doug tell you I can’t compromise.
After that, it became apparent that everything
would work itself out. And eventually, it did. With counseling and mutual
understanding, we both made it through a frightening time. And we had a new,
stronger connection. It was as if, having weathered the tempest of our first
months, we were survivors of the same catastrophe, sharing the bond of
veterans.
DOUG Our small circle of two was
much stronger, but there was a subtext that I began to sense lurking almost
imperceptibly around the edges of our familial dynamic. On the surface, Sheldon
and Roslyn were uncommonly open and accepting of Andrew, and me, and our
relationship. Speaking for myself, I never felt Sheldon and Roslyn treated me
like a lesser person, or somehow different because of my sexuality. And yet I
began to recognize an undercurrent that suggested that Andrew and I, as a
couple, were indeed seen as different.
At least they saw us as some kind of couple.
Until our engagement, the independence I’d long had from my own parents - and
the communication we’d never had - allowed key truths to remain veiled, and
pushed Sheldon and Roslyn to the center of our increasingly pressurized
extended family, placing a great unspoken burden on them.
As it would for so many things, the wedding
eventually exposed many of the unexplored issues that had quietly chipped away
at the foundations of our familial relationships. It would force new awareness
on many fronts, from the distance built up between me and my parents, to the
conflict spurred by my moving in with Andrew.
ROSLYN The
conflict Doug sensed in our family had been brewing for a long time; although I
did my best to smooth over any potential problems, trying to keep everyone
happy and comfortable. One night, however, so much that had been below the
surface bubbled up.
Sheldon’s 60th birthday party had been in the
planning stages for months. I had gone all-out in an effort to make it unique,
to personalize it for Sheldon, reserving one of our favorite restaurants,
putting together a menu with all the food he liked, creating a multi-tiered
sports-themed birthday cake (one layer was a basketball court, another a tennis
court), laboring for weeks on a video I planned to show that night. By the
evening of the event I was on overload, from the basic logistics to the menu,
seating, video, music, and the comfort of our guests.
From the minute we began getting dressed,
Sheldon became another person, harsh, overbearing, overreacting to anything and
everything. By the time we arrived at dinner and sat down at the head table
with our
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