An Ode to My In-laws

Three years ago, if you told me that my husband and I would wed in front of our parents, nervously awaiting the birth of our first child, and preparing to cohabitate with my husband’s parents, I would have said you are out of your mind.

Three years ago, my then-boyfriend (now husband) came out to his parents. I embraced him the moment he got back to our house, knowing it didn’t go well. His parents ignored the tell-tale signs that both of their children were gay, as many parents do, and upon being faced with reality, had a dramatic outburst, along with hurtful words.

His parents were born and raised in Guangzhou, China, immigrating separately to the U.S. around 1980. They met in San Francisco, got married, and by 1985, they had two beautiful children. Growing up in Oakland’s Chinatown, surrounded by native speakers and cross-generational family members, they were insulated from the American mainstream—a common story in many cities across the U.S., regardless of the country of origin.

Their family established themselves, looking out for each other along the way to ensure the whole family was achieving success through hard work, dedication, and perseverance. They did whatever it took to set their children up for success. It’s one of the most important and honorable things they can do: ensuring the next generation has it better than they did, sacrificing nothing to ensure that is the case.

Over the course of years, they acquired multiple rental homes, doing a large majority of the work themselves to save money. To provide an income for themselves but mainly set up their son and daughter for an easier life. They were focused on the future, expecting my husband, Johnny, to marry a woman and produce grandchildren. It’s all they knew and expected.

In June 2021, it all came crashing down when they were faced with the news that both of their children were queer. Their instincts went to fear the shame within their Chinese circles, and their hopes of having grandchildren shattered in an instant. They outwardly expressed that their years of hard work were for nothing.

Due to the insulation of their networks, they knew nothing of LGBTQ culture, only a little bit of information they may have picked up from Chinese news or hearsay within the community. This was similar to my own parent’s situation at the time. I didn’t realize it then, but it took us years to figure out who we were, come to terms with what it meant to be LGBTQ, relearn our identities, and find our footing in the world. We bestowed this information upon our parents with an unrealistic expectation that they’d accept it immediately and we’d move on.

That isn’t how it worked out.

When he got home that night, he was visibly upset, angry, and confused. He told me what was said that night, and it broke my heart. I knew we had a long way to go but all we could do was give them time to process everything. Since I had come out to my parents years before Johnny, we were armed with patience as we endured a rough patch while their relationship reconfigured. They too had to cope with the retooling of their expectations, hopes, and dreams for their kids. I was resolute that we’d get through this process on his terms and at his comfort level.

The next couple of years showed gradual signs of improvement, as we sought to normalize our relationship for them by offering help to an evicted tenant, giving gifts to each other on Lunar New Year, and showing them our home that we had purchased and that our relationship was no different than anyone else’s, but that it just happened to be two men. They were protective of their son, so it was also incumbent on me to show them I loved and cared for him.

We got engaged during a trip to Maui in 2022, and it wasn’t until we were expecting in late 2023 that we knew we needed to fill them in on our plans to marry and that they were going to be grandparents. We’d begun having occasional dinners together by that point, so their acceptance had already come a long way. I surmised that having grandchildren was the highest priority for them, and though I don’t speak Cantonese, things became a lot more comfortable once they knew it was becoming a reality.

As we went about planning the wedding, we didn’t know if members of his family would attend. There was still ambiguity surrounding their fears but we set about it and left the ball in their court regarding if they’d attend and who from their family would attend. As the date neared, Johnny’s mom became more involved in the wedding planning: the guest list, Chinese traditions, table arrangement, etc. I loved seeing her engaged in planning our wedding. It signaled acceptance.

A couple weeks before the wedding after dinner at their house, they handed us a red envelope with Chinese wedding symbolism on it. It was moving and we knew we were in the clear: they were accepting of and blessing our wedding.

On our wedding day, Johnny’s family turned out in full force. They had three full tables of family members in attendance, along with members from my family and lots of close friends from over the years, all there to witness us wed. It was something we didn’t think would be possible just three short years ago. To exchange our vows, to cry, dance, and share our love, with them in the front row seats.

The night was magical, with moments of laughter together and we made a plan to to involve them in the big day. Before my family left town, my new father-in-law asked if we could have dinner with my parents. There we were, our new blended family in a Mexican restaurant near our home. It was surreal to witness.

Following the wedding, we had dim sum with other members of Johnny’s family who couldn’t attend the wedding, which was the first time Johnny’s parents and their siblings had been together since before the pandemic. To know we were the reason for the reunion is beautiful.

As we await the birth of our son, my in-laws are preparing their home (a large home with two separate living areas) for us to move into in the fall. There’s a comfort that exists now and even if most of the talking is in Cantonese, the body language, gestures, and smiles tell me all I need to know.

My in-laws have not had an easy path since immigrating, as is the case with most immigrants. All I can do is learn as much as I can about them, their culture, and their history, and ensure we impart that knowledge and respect to our children. I owe them a debt of gratitude for accepting me into their family, for accepting us for who we are, and for their willingness to learn and adapt.

To them, I say thank you and I can’t wait for what’s ahead.

Cory Allen grew up in rural western Pennsylvania before a divorce moved the family to a conservative suburb of Richmond, Virginia. He ended up in the U.S. Air Force, which led to a career in local law enforcement. In 2019 at the pinnacle of his career, he left the Secret Service and everything he knew on the east coast to restart his life in California and begin the process of finally being his own person. Cory continues to work in law enforcement, now leading the next generation of Special Agents, and he resides in California with his partner, where they are plotting their way into parenthood.