Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here. (It’s anonymous!)
Dear Prudence,
I’m a 28-year-old gay man recently married to a wonderful guy. We had a small wedding with close friends and his family in attendance. No one from my family was invited or informed about the wedding until after the event. When my parents found out about my boyfriend when I was 15, they disowned me and kicked me out the house. I lived with my boyfriend’s family until we broke up, when I then ended up on the streets and in a youth homeless shelter. I tried asking my Aunt “Kat” and Uncle “Colin” if I could stay with them, but they said no because they didn’t want to “pick sides” in mine and my parents’ “fight,” and Kat said it would hurt her sister’s (my mom’s) feelings if she “replaced” her as a mother. I was devastated, as I’d always been close to their family and they had vocally claimed to be supportive of gay rights for as long as I could remember. My cousin was instructed to stop speaking to me and act like she didn’t recognize me when they passed where I was sleeping on a park bench on more than one occasion.
It was painful, but I adjusted to the idea of myself as someone without a family and managed, through huge effort and the dedication of some social workers, to get back on my feet and make a life for myself.
Last year, my cousin reached out to me over social media with an apology and some very kind words. She and I reconnected somewhat, and she persuaded me to attend a couple of family events where she insisted I would be welcome and that others would want to apologize and “make things right” with me. I went, and found that what this meant was that my parents and I ignored one another while Kat and Colin enthusiastically chatted to me and acted as though we’d just randomly lost contact and nothing weird had happened. I was polite but quickly stopped attending events and shifted to occasional friendly exchanges online with them.
It never occurred to me to invite these people to my wedding, and they only learned of it when I shared photos online.
Now here is the problem. I have been bombarded with calls, texts, and messages from my cousin and her parents, all expressing how hurt they are that they received no invite. “How could you pretend to have reconnected with us but disown us as your family like this?” is a genuine message I received from my aunt, along with, “Who are these strangers you refer to as your ‘parents’? Your real parents are so humiliated!” (I referred to my mother-in-law and father-in-law as my family in a post, not as my parents.) These messages and their anger have opened up so much hurt for me, and also led me to wonder if I have been somehow callous in not inviting them after we reconnected. My cousin thinks I cut my nose off to spite my face by not inviting them. Can you please give me an outside perspective on 1) whether I’ve actually been nasty to or humiliated them, and 2) what I should say in response to their messages other than “It genuinely didn’t occur to me you’d want to go”? My husband and his family have nothing but hatred for mine and definitely don’t have objective advice on this!
— I’ve Disowned Them, Apparently
Dear I’ve Disowned Them, Apparently,
You have not been nasty, and if they feel humiliation, it comes from their own abhorrent behavior. Your cousin, aunt, and uncle seem to have made a partial amends, but they clearly haven’t finished the work of acknowledging the harm they allowed and, in some cases, actively caused. Nor have they done enough to try to make things right. No one is owed an invite to any wedding. This is ridiculous. And this intense, over-the-top reaction they’re having shows that they still aren’t prepared to be in a healthy relationship with you. What I’m not seeing here is any introspection on their part, any empathy, or much remorse. Making demands and bombarding you with recriminations only furthers the harm they’ve been causing for much of your life.
I suspect that going back and forth with them will only further hurt you and you will end up being cast as the “bad guy,” as often happens when in conflict with abusive people. They’re going to keep making you responsible for the guilt they feel. My first thought is that you should simply cut off all contact and never respond again. Mail to the junk folder; calls blocked, etc. Definitely block them on social media. If that’s too severe an option for you, then write back something simple but final like “You and I are still rebuilding our relationship, and it’s going to take time to get to know each other again. But I hope you understand that I didn’t intend to hurt you. However, if we’re going to be in each other’s lives going forward, you need to stop messaging me about this and be happy for me. If that’s not something you can do, we may not be ready to reunite yet.”
Dear Prudence,
I just got engaged to the sweetest, most unique, most amazing man in the world! We’re both pretty shy, so plan to elope, rather than dragging our families together in a huge cringy circus of a wedding. My parents have never liked “Gray” for me, solely because he’s a talented but fairly niche musician who doesn’t make much money from it. They’re always after me to either dump him, or pressure him to get a “real job.” They have no idea Gray is the only child of a high-level executive and stands to inherit gazillions. He had a rocky relationship with his parents when he was younger, but now that he’s with someone they like and we hope to give them grandchildren, that’s all in the past.
Should I tell my parents the truth? My concern is that it will get out to the rest of my family, who range from middle-class to struggling, and we’ll be plagued with pleas for money. Gray has a trust fund that allows us to live comfortably, but can’t subsidize my whole extended family. Or should I just continue to let my parents complain about him? When I quit my job to raise our kids, what do I say when they suspect he’s selling drugs or something?
— Not Gazillionaires Yet
Dear Not Gazillionaires Yet,
Your parents need to accept your fiancé because you love him, full stop. They may not like your relationship, they may have concerns about your financial stability, they may be doing all of this for your own good; but at a certain point they need to keep their opinions to themselves. And that point is now. Have a conversation with them where you assert a boundary. Perhaps use the occasion of your engagement as a restarting point. You have chosen to be with Gray and while you appreciate their concern, you need them to stop encouraging you to break up with him and commenting on his job. Tell them that they need to trust that you have your own finances well in hand. Revealing Gray’s trust fund isn’t necessary here because you and your parents first need to establish your own trust.
Dear Prudence,
I’m an artist with a physical disability that makes some dexterous tasks difficult (things like writing, sealing envelopes, peeling stamps, etc.). I have a relatively new online store where I sell prints of my work, which is at once exciting and a little exhausting—it’s performing well, but it can be hard to keep up with packaging and shipping off work when the process is so hands-on. I have a tough time writing out addresses and packaging the art.
A few weeks ago, a close friend offered to come over and help me package my prints. I hesitantly said yes—I love this friend very much and needed the help, but she’s the kind of person who does things her way. She rolled her eyes as I tried to explain the process of packaging artwork and fulfilling orders, acting as though I was being too nervous and not trusting enough. I backed off, telling myself she was right: I was being far too controlling, and should trust my friends when they offer help. I’m a pretty anxious and anal person, and she kept reminding me that I shouldn’t worry—she was there for me, and she knew what she was doing.
This was a few weeks ago. Since then, a handful of people have emailed me upset because they received the wrong item in the mail. On one hand, I’m grateful my friend offered to help me knowing I was struggling disability-wise. On the other, I’m extremely annoyed: She was so flippant that her mistakes have cost me about $150 (on top of the embarrassment of people paying money and receiving the wrong artwork). I’ve also had to repackage all of the wrong orders to send people the right ones, so her “help” just created more anxiety and physical labor for me.
I’m just struggling with what happens from here. Do I tell my friend? Do I pretend no issues ever came up? $150 is a meaningful amount of money for me, so I’m just struggling with what to do. I feel more anxious than I ever have as I push myself to fix mistakes I never would have made myself.
— Tired
Dear Tired,
While your friend may still dismiss your concerns (a troubling personality trait), you should let her know. It doesn’t need to take on a scolding tone, unless you want it to. But by not respecting you and your business, she’s created more work and cost you money. If you don’t let her know, it will likely fester, and you should tell her that, too. You need to clear the air and telling her will also give her an opportunity to make amends, maybe by apologizing or even by paying you back. Pointing out that you do things a certain way for a reason and that when they don’t get done that way it creates complication, stress, and financial strain for you will, hopefully, set a boundary that she’ll respect if she ever decides to be “helpful” in the future.
Catch up on this week’s Prudie.
More Advice From How to Do It
I am a 24-year-old woman with a master’s degree who grew up in modest circumstances. I have a job that I do online, but the hours are part-time and I don’t make very much money. To supplement my income, I’ve made forays into various forms of sex work—I briefly served drinks at a strip club, I’ve dirty chatted with people sans photos, I’ve dirty chatted with select people with photos, I’ve had sugar daddies, and more recently, I’ve used a camgirl-type sexting site, though only conversations so far and no photos. When (if ever) I get a job in my field, what is the likelihood of sex work coming back to haunt me?
