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I thought about marrying a man and having children of my own for a full half-a-second before I shook my head. You’re GOING to want to and you WILL have kids.” It felt more like an order than a possibility. “But let’s face it, you’re gonna get married. “Ahhh, you say that now,” my most obnoxious aunt would cackle, giving me an elbow in my little ribs. How many of us young queers had to suffer through those cold-sweat inducing talks? Inevitably, conversations about normalcy would lead to mating habits, because it’s totally appropriate to talk to children under ten about making a life-commitment to a parter and popping out kids. I had to play games with my hormonal and sometimes sadistic older cousins when all I wanted to do was eat my face off, steal a glass of wine (Jewish, we start early, that’s my excuse) and enjoy the warmth of the house. This would be a pattern at every Thanksgiving: I would take shelter in the kitchen or in a corner and the adults would bully me out of my den with instruction on normalcy. Of course, the adults took it upon themselves to explain to me that it was ‘normal’ that a child should want to play with their peers. To my tender soul, hide and seek was a profoundly anxiety-inducing experience in which I identified more with the fox in a hunt than a child at play. It meant being eight years old with my nose in a book while my other cousins tried to play hide and seek. What does it mean to be The Gay Cousin? Well, let me tell you what it meant to me. But let’s focus on the gay, because whether you like it or not, if you’re a part of this beautiful rainbow at a family Thanksgiving table: you are the gay cousin. It had a lot to do with the fact that there’s one in every family that one was me. I mean, if that doesn’t cause a bit of resentment in you as well, perhaps Thanksgiving can be a day of reflection for you.īut that isn’t where my resentment began or ended. Sure, I could say this resentment stems from the fact that this holiday commemorates a bunch of white immigrants taking advantage of the Native Americans’ hospitality…which preluded genocide and colonizing them as a historical ‘thank you’ that we’re meant to re-enact annually (with pie included). I know, it sounds callous, it sounds hard-hearted, I sound like the Grinch that Stole Thanksgiving… and that might be the worst Grinch of all because Thanksgiving isn’t exactly about resentment. Thursday is a holiday and that means I have to see my family. A glimpse into the art of surviving being queer at your friendly family Thanksgiving. There’s one in every family… and it might be you.