Are you having problems with your sexuality?

I came out to my 80 year old grandmother a couple of weeks ago and it did not go down awfully well. I tell a small lie here, I actually came out to my granddad who did not seem to mind and was kind enough to tell my grandma for me. Anyway, the night she was told I had a phone call, “are you having problems with your sexuality?” she asked, sounding very concerned. “No” I replied, “I am not having problems with my sexuality, this is just the way I am”.

“Oh. Well I’m sorry to hear that”.

I, along with the rest of my family (who have known for years), had assumed that she was going to blame my parents or my older sister or my intrinsic amorality (no-one ever entertained the idea that she was going to take it well, she thinks Nick Griffin has ‘some good ideas’) but instead she is rather desperately groping for an external source of blame, so far:

• My partner
• My job (experimental psychologists are known for their wicked ways)
• Stress
• Loneliness
• My university education
• The friends I made whilst getting my university education
• The drugs the friends I made whilst getting my university education made me take

She has also entered a new phase, the ‘it’s just a phase’ phase. She writes me letters, about one a fortnight, and in the most recent one she told me the heart-warming tale of her friend who managed to find love at the grand old age of 37. Of course it was prefixed by ‘friendships are all very well and good but Mr Right has to come along at some point’.

She also seems to have gone into denial. My grandma has a history of changing details of a story to suit what she thinks is best and then palms it off as a memory lapse if said details don’t change to her liking. I’ve told her 3 times now that I’m spending Christmas day with the in-laws and still I am asked what my plans are.

It could be so much worse. She could have stopped speaking to me, she could be ringing me up and calling me every name under the sun, she could have sent me a highlighted bible. I think the problem is that I had answers to all those things, nice, firm, self-righteous ‘how dare you call me a XXXXX’ answers whereas I seem to be limited to ‘it’s just the way I am. It’s just the way I am’. If I don’t come up with something more original soon I’m going to accidentally start rapping the next time I’m on the phone to her.