What I Wish I Had Said
(and how I manage my mind around that)
We’ve all had these moments: we’re caught off guard by a conversation or comment but later think of the perfect thing to say. Sometimes it’s possible to revisit the topic and say your piece, but often doing so seems petty and vengeful, especially if it was a heated interchange.
I’ve had four of these moments in the last few years with some relatives I’ll call Joe and Nancy. We live close to these relatives and see them often. There are many benefits to this arrangement, but from time to time, issues arise where we have a profound difference of opinion.
I am not a “convincer.” This is something I learned about myself long ago and just have to accept. I wish I was better at verbal discussions, but I get exceedingly nervous in any sort of confrontation (even if it doesn’t remotely involve me). I don’t think well on my feet, I can’t think of anything to say, and even if I could, I’d be too flustered to actually say it. I much prefer to write, where I can contemplate my words and arrange them just so.
Because of my lack of ability to articulate my thoughts in the moment, I’ve gathered up many instances of regret when it comes to Joe and Nancy. These situations live rent free in my mind, as they say. I go over and over them, outlining exactly what I should have said. So, I’ve decided to write out the circumstances of these remorseful experiences, and then I can answer in the way I wish I would have.
As a bit of background, my husband and I have been a part of a high demand conservative Christian religion for most of our lives. In the last few years, we have deconstructed the teachings of our youth and parted ways with the church. Joe and Nancy are still members, although they are what we call “nuanced” or progressive members. They have always believed gay people should have the right to marry, for instance, even when our church lobbied against that in every state where it came up before it was legal nationwide. In general, Joe and Nancy are more loving and accepting of differences in people than is typical in our religion.
Being in the same church was a point of cohesion between us for many years. Even though we lived in separate states while raising our kids, we enjoyed seeing each other every summer and often discussed what roles we held in our church congregations and what religious activities our kids were participating in. When my husband and I left the church, Joe and Nancy were quite disappointed, and our relationship has never been the same.
All four of the incidents I wish I could return to have to do with religious attitudes, directly or indirectly. Before we left the church, we were mostly on the same page with Joe and Nancy about issues of LGBTQ rights or women’s roles. This was partly because I was tamping down my true beliefs to conform with and stay in the church. Now that I am free to be my authentic self and lean into my liberal opinions, we have more skirmishes with Joe and Nancy.
Here are the four situations and what I wish I had said in the moment.
1. Wearing a beard and a dress?
Transgender people and their right to live freely in society has become a hot topic in recent years. The first instance I want to write about happened somewhere in 2021. Nancy and I were in the lobby of a restaurant, waiting for some friends to join us for a girls’ night. I must have mentioned something in recent news about trans rights. At first, she agreed with me that trans people should be given basic human rights. But then she brought up this point, “I see this guy walking around campus,” (she is an adjunct professor at a local university), “He has a beard and wears a dress!” She did a little scoff like, ‘Can you believe that?’ She might have even added, “I mean, pick one or the other!” This implied that being transgender was okay (in her estimation), but it’s not okay to be something in between the two genders — something that doesn’t conform to our current gender norms.
I didn’t know how to respond. There was a pause for a minute, and then I kind of shook my head and said simply, “Huh.”
I wish I would have interrogated her opinions further. I could have said, “Why is that a big deal?” I would be interested to know what she would have answered.
I would have loved to also give this speech:
“You know that the idea that women wear skirts or dresses and men don’t or shouldn’t is all made up, right? In Roman times, men wore togas; in eighteenth-century France high heels were fashionable for men. The rules about gender fashion choices are manufactured by different cultures and generations. There is nothing wrong with a man wearing a dress — nothing amoral about it (even though your church teaches that people need to stick to and “act like” the gender that was assigned them at birth to be righteous).”
I would continue: “Have you ever wondered why men find other men dressing like women so repulsive? Maybe you think it isn’t ‘natural’ or that their repulsion is just human instinct. It isn’t. it is ingrained in them and all of us by centuries of repressive and sexist societal views. Have you ever considered why it is a sign of regression (negative) for men to dress like women, but a sign of emancipation (positive) for women to dress like men?
“Our culture’s belief that men shouldn’t wear dresses or do anything feminine is rooted in misogyny. We live and participate in a patriarchal society, whether we realize it or not. We are given constant messages that white males are the best and that anything associated with them is better than anything associated with their opposites. White men have societal power and are disgusted by the idea that another man would relinquish that power by looking or acting like a woman.
“Allowing men to present however they choose is an important step to everyone having freedom to be who they want to be and pursue whatever path they prefer. Breaking down the strict gender norms of our current culture is crucial to women being seen as equal and to an ability for everyone in the citizenry to flourish.”
2. “You have to make sure everyone is comfortable.”
A few months after the beard and a dress conversation, my husband and I went to dinner with Joe and Nancy. We had recently watched the movie Everybody’s Talking about Jamie and loved it. In the film, Jamie is a teenage boy in England who dreams of being a drag queen. He experiments with wearing elements of women’s clothing or makeup to school, with some acceptance and some rejection and harassment.
Jamie wants to wear a dress to the prom, but some of the teachers and administrators are reluctant to give him permission, especially because another boy, the school jock, is vocal about his opposition to this idea. As we talked about the movie, I expressed how unfair it is that this one boy’s opinion had so much sway with the decision-makers, partly because he conformed to the heteronormative expectations of the adults.
It didn’t take very long to see that Joe and Nancy were not in agreement with my summation. There was an awkward pause (I believe the term is “crickets”). They squirmed and moved their heads in noncommittal ways. Nancy finally said, “Well…it depends on if all the other students are comfortable with him wearing that. Do you know what I mean? The administrators should see how everyone feels about it before making a decision.”
I knew that arguing with them wouldn’t change their mind. As usual, I wasn’t formulating any great retorts anyway because I was becoming nervous and agitated. So, I shrugged my shoulders, and we moved on to a different (more neutral) topic of conversation.
It only took a few days to come up with the zinger of a response that I wish I had thought of at the time: “Do you think they should’ve waited for the white kids (and parents) to feel comfortable before allowing black students to integrate schools and universities?”
The longer version of this argument goes like this:
“The white government leaders, parents, and students of the South in the 1960s were never going to be comfortable having black students in their schools. They had too many biases and too much bigotry for them to put that aside and say, ‘This is the right thing to do.’ So someone above them (the federal government) had to force them to do it. They had to compel them into an uncomfortable situation in order for change to happen. It was the correct course of action because it was the only way to create and maintain an equitable and just society. When one group is kept out, the whole population suffers.
“This same dynamic is happening for LGBTQ people. We didn’t feel comfortable with gays having the right to marry until the leadership of the nation forced us to accept it. And then we got used to it (pretty quickly, I might add).
“People are not going to get comfortable with transgender or gender nonconforming people until our government insures their rights. It’s the right thing to do because it creates a more equitable and just society. Every person in our country should be able to dress how they want, act masculine or feminine, and identify how they want without fear of intimidation, harassment, and discrimination. We as a culture are biased and bigoted about LGBTQ people like we have been about so many other minority groups. Our leaders must intervene to make it right.”
3. Can gay people go to heaven?
Joe and Nancy moved to our city, to our street even, in 2020. There were many reasons for their move, but being close to us and our family was definitely one of them. At this time, we were all in the church together, and I’m sure they hoped things would stay that way and that we’d be a good example to their adolescent children who were questioning some of the church’s teachings.
By early 2021, my church attendance was sporadic, and I’m sure they wondered if I would stay. Because of the high demand nature of our denomination, you’re either in or you’re out. for the most part, people either believe all of it and do all the tasks and responsibilities required to get to heaven, or they leave the whole thing behind.
In June of 2021, I made the decision to leave the whole thing behind. I had numerous frustrations with church teachings and culture that had been brewing in my mind and bothering my psyche. And then some of our kids came out as LGBTQ. Our church teaches without question that only straight, cis individuals we be “exalted” or go to the highest degree of heaven, a doctrine that deeply disturbed me and all of our children, LGBTQ or not.
It came down to choosing my kids or my church, and I chose my kids.
Because Joe and Nancy would notice my absence in our congregation, I felt I should explain to them that I would no longer be attending. Of course, I was very nervous about this conversation. I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I also wanted them to understand my viewpoint. It didn’t help that our church teaches that those who leave are deceived by Satan and should be pitied or shunned or both.
(I have to acknowledge this cringe-inducing moment. I am speaking of the church’s beliefs about LGBTQ issues and ideas about those who step away as if these teachings are so unbelievable. But alas, just a few years ago I was a participating member of this church. Even though I never fully embraced all their teachings, I did pay tithing money and dedicate hours upon hours to doing what they said needed to be done to reach heaven in the next life. I have to have patience and humility when dealing with those who are still under the spell of the church.)
Anyway…I needed to tell Joe and Nancy my decision. One Sunday afternoon I walked down to their house with my husband. As we came in, we told them we wanted to talk to them about something, and we all sat down at their kitchen table. (My stomach gets butterflies and my heart beats faster just remembering this moment!)
I fidgeted with my hands and glanced from Joe to Nancy to my husband as I said, “I just wanted you to know that I have asked to be excused from my responsibilities at church and that I won’t be attending anymore.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Joe said, “Okay,” and Susan nodded her head slightly. They didn’t ask me to explain why; they weren’t interested in hearing more about my experiences or reasons. But I wanted to say more.
“I have a few different reasons for leaving,” I began, “but the main thing is the church’s doctrines about LGBTQ people. I don’t think it’s right or fair that they won’t allow them to go to heaven, that they teach these individuals that they are wrong and sinful.”
At this point, Nancy said, “Well, they can go to heaven…” She was referring to the church’s teaching that if a gay person is celibate all their life, if they don’t “act on it,” as the church puts it, they will be allowed in heaven.
What I wish I had said:
“That policy is repulsive and ridiculous. Gay people are expected to push aside their whole identity, to force themselves to be something they are not, for all the years of their lives. In addition, they are to never have intimacy: not emotional intimacy with a beloved partner, not share their day-to-day life with someone, and certainly not sexual intimacy. And if that weren’t enough, they get the pleasure of sitting through church every week where it is implicitly and often explicitly taught that ‘their kind’ are evil, wrong, and gross.”
And here’s what I most wish I would have said: “I would like to see you explain that to your son if he were gay.”
I am still disappointed that I didn’t say something like this, or anything to refute her attempt to make her religion ok. My memories are a little fuzzy because I was so nervous and agitated, but basically, I just said, “Hmm…” and wrapped up the conversation.
When people leave the church, it is common that their still-believing family members don’t ask much about why they left. Imagine if you announced that you were leaving college or your career, the people closest to you would be full of questions: what led up to this, why are you leaving now, what are you doing to do after you leave? That seems normal, right? But believing churchgoers don’t want to hear the answer to any of those questions. On some level, they know that that conversation will bring up questions inside themselves and weaken their “testimony.”
So, I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t desire a longer, more fleshed-out conversation, but of course it was disappointing. And Nancy’s insistence that the church’s LGBTQ doctrines are okay (which is what she was saying in essence) was and is infuriating.
4. A controversial sweatshirt
One of my reasons for leaving the church (not that Joe or Nancy wanted to know) was the sexism and misogyny embedded within its teachings. In our religion, “patriarchy” is actually a positive term. It refers to the Old Testament patriarchs — Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph; the current male leaders of the church (who are to be revered and sustained without question); and the role of the male or husband in the family. It implies the “natural order of things” in which males have the ultimate authority and make all the decisions, and women stay at home raising the children and attending to household concerns. These sexist ideals are not as openly stated any longer, but everyone in the church knows that if you are truly righteous, you believe this is the best way and you arrange your life accordingly.
After I left the church, I learned more about The Patriarchy — the paradigm that all things male are inherently better and all things female are inferior or deficient. I came to see how our society maintains this system, often unknowingly. It took a conscious effort to interrogate all my default attitudes and beliefs and see the inequities lurking behind them.
My children have been instrumental in helping me understand these issues. They grew up in the age of social media, and while that can have its downsides, they were able to learn about the complexities of racism, capitalism, colonialism, and patriarchy and how they all work together. I’m thankful for their knowledge and example and now I try to educate myself so we can have mutually beneficial interchanges.
Our youngest child (Sydney, 16 years old) has a sweatshirt that from afar looks like it says, “I LOVE MEN” but when you get up close and see all the words, it actually says, “I LOVE when MEN shut the fuck up.” It’s meant to be comical but also to convey a serious message: men have dominated conversations (and politics, scientific research, religion, any major decisions, etc.) for millennia. It’s time for them to take a back seat and let women participate fully in the dialogue.
Joe, predictably, does not like this sweatshirt. He saw Sydney wearing it (at our house) one day, and later told my husband that he doesn’t like it. (He tends to tell my husband what he and Nancy do and do not like or approve of regarding all of our children. So fascinating). We were annoyed by his opinion and his willingness to share it but didn’t think much of it. Until one Sunday…
We had been invited to dinner at Joe and Nancy’s house, with their kids and our kids. My husband, Bryan, and my daughter Sydney had already gone down to their home, and I was the last one to arrive. When I got there, I started chatting with Joe and Nancy, and then out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Sydney was wearing the sweatshirt. I had a feeling it was going to be an issue.
Sure enough, within the first five minutes of the evening, Joe called her out. “Sydney, I do not like that sweatshirt. I’ve seen you wear it at your house, and I didn’t like it then, and I would appreciate if you didn’t wear it to our house in the future.”
Everyone was quiet. My heart was thudding in my chest and my stomach was doing backflips. After a few tense moments, Joe added, “I don’t like it on two levels.” He didn’t go on to explain. No one knew what to say. I didn’t know if Sydney wanted to talk about it or defend her choice. The silence was too awkward for me, so I asked, “What are the two levels?”
He was more than happy to elaborate. “First, it says the F-word, which I find offensive. And second, it slights all men, and I take that personally. You don’t have to be so angry and aggressive. It doesn’t help anything to insult the whole group; they didn’t all do something wrong.”
I wanted to defend Sydney, and of course I also wanted to change Joe’s mind or show him another perspective. I said, “Sometimes you have to say things in a strong way to get the message across.”
Nancy jumped on this one, “You can make just as much of a difference from kindness and peace — just look at Martin Luther King.” Joe made eye contact with her and nodded. It was clear they had discussed this previously.
That one line I had spoken was all I had in me. I didn’t have any more courage to speak up, and even if I did, my jumbled brain was not offering me any good arguments. My strongest feeling was a compulsion to flee. That’s how I deal with confrontation. I looked at the time on the oven and contemplated how many minutes I had to stay in order to not seem too rude. I told myself 5:45, just forty more minutes and then I could escape, and if I didn’t want to, I never had to interact with them again.
Joe started on a diatribe about environmental protestors in California stopping traffic on a major thoroughfare and how unnecessary that was. We all kind of nodded and mumbled quasi-agreement and then the conversation turned to something else.
Somehow, we made it through the rest of the dinner. As the three of us walked home, we looked at each other with widened eyes. Bryan asked Sydney if she was upset by the interchange. She said no, not really. She told us she had anticipated this moment and even planned out and rehearsed what she might say. But when the time came, she panicked and chose to remain silent.
Bryan suggested that maybe Joe should’ve asked Sydney about the sweatshirt instead of simply criticizing it and shutting her down. Sydney laughed nervously and said, “No, I wouldn’t want him to ask me to explain. That’s too much pressure.”
Bryan also pointed out the irony of the situation, considering Joe uses the F-word more than any member of the family. He not infrequently uses it in anger — when frustrated with his kids, other drivers, or his golf performance.
I didn’t say much on the walk home because I wanted to move on. I regretted not being able to formulate a better response. I was annoyed at myself for my lack of ability to think in the moment and construct helpful, meaningful arguments. My body betrays me when it sends up that intense fight-or-flight mode that hinders logical thought.
However, scrolling through social media later that night, I came across an article entitled, “Rude Comments and Bottom Slaps: The Things Female Doctors Put Up with.” My blood started to boil all over again. This is why we have to take an aggressive stance!! I wanted to forward the article to Joe with a text that said, “I’m sorry but situations like these aren’t going to be changed with kindness and love. Those are condescending platitudes. It’s true that you are a decent guy, but systemic patriarchy and oppression of women is in the air we breathe. It’s not going to be fixed easily. It requires extreme measures to wake people up to it. People who work to change our sexist misogynistic world don’t have the luxury of worrying about if men are comfortable.”
Of course, I didn’t send it.
Later that night, I was still thinking about the situation, and I came up with this reply:
“Of course, this sweatshirt offends you. You’re a white male who hasn’t taken the time to learn about and understand women’s experience in the world. You’re used to being centered and feeling comfortable. To someone with privilege, equality feels like oppression.
“This sweatshirt is doing just what it’s supposed to do: get your attention, create tension, and generate discomfort in you so you know a slight bit of what women have felt for millennia. We’ll never have change without people feeling uncomfortable. ”
In my mind, I would have delivered this line calmly, like I always expected this, and with an air of “not to worry, I understand what is happening here.”
If only we could go back in time…if only I could be a different person, one who stays calm in confrontation…should’ve, would’ve, could’ve.
It took two days to think of the best response of all, though. Yes, I was still thinking about the interaction two days later. I was equal parts irritated with Joe and with myself and my shortcomings. I wanted to redeem the situation somehow.
The next response hit me like a blow: he was tone policing!
According to Dictionary.com, “tone policing is a conversational tactic that dismisses the ideas being communicated when they are perceived to be delivered in an angry, frustrated, sad, fearful, or otherwise emotionally charged manner” The example sentence they use is instructive: “It’s condescending to shut down an argument through tone policing. Tone policing can silence the narratives of oppressed populations.”
Many people don’t realize when they are tone policing, or that it is even a thing. I’m sure Joe falls into that category. He needs to learn the concept before he can see it in himself. I’m sure he doesn’t realize that tone policing is an oppression tactic — it systemically keeps oppressed people and the issues they raise silenced. He is likely unaware that there is a long history of racist and misogynistic tone policing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to enlighten him! Of course, I’m too timid to talk to him directly, so I thought of printing out the definition and leaving it casually on the counter the next time he came over.
An article on PureWow.com called “You Might Be Guilty of Tone Policing. Here’s How to Spot and Stop It” explains that “tone policing works so well as a defense mechanism because it renders a perfectly legitimate complaint irrational, especially when the offending individual maintains his or her own saintly calm. If you can successfully shut another person down based on her anger or frustration, then you don’t ever have to answer for your own…conduct. And, bonus, by remaining cool as a cucumber, you appear to be in the right to those around you, especially in comparison to the irate person you just insulted…”
So, yes, how awesome would it have been if I thought of that on the spot and explained it serenely and coherently? But…that is not the world I live in. I did feel validated, however, by articulating what exactly bothered me (and Bryan and Sydney) about his critique.
During this time of contemplation, it occurred to me that I am not sure how “patriarchal” Joe is. As I’ve mentioned, he and Nancy are religious, but have more progressive personal beliefs than most in their (what used to be our) church. I know he and Nancy don’t subscribe to the belief that “a woman’s place is in the home.” They believe women should have equal rights in general. But I’m not sure what they think when you delve into particulars, specifically when it comes to the church’s teachings about women’s morality.
I would sincerely like to ask Joe the following questions:
Do you think women and girls should dress “modestly”?
Do you recognize the harm that the purity culture in most Christian churches perpetuates?
Do you think women should have the priesthood authority in the church?
Do you think the government should restore women’s right to bodily autonomy?
Do you trust women to make moral and ethical decisions about their reproductive lives?
I would love to know Joe’s answers to these, but alas, we will never have that conversation. It would be impossible to broach any of these subjects without tension and confrontation because Joe knows we view things differently now (different from him and different from how we used to think). He would see it as an aggression to even bring up any of these topics.
So, I will have to conciliate myself by writing about them. In writing, I can go back in time and say the things I wish I could have said in the moment. I can be perfectly poised and knowledgeable.
I do have compassion for Joe and Nancy. I know they are doing the best they can with the knowledge and experience they have. Everyone has reasons for how they behave, and I try to by sympathetic to that. But still, part of me wants to say just the right thing to help them see my side of the argument. Part of me wants to be validated in my beliefs.
It is up to me to manage my mind around any frustration I have with them. They haven’t done anything wrong; they’re just being humans. And I haven’t done anything wrong either. It’s okay to disagree. One of my go-to phrases that helps me see things clearly is “They don’t need to understand right now.” Fighting against reality (the fact that they don’t see things the way I do) only causes me suffering.
Since this is a pattern in our relationship, I remind myself to not be surprised when it comes up. Of course, he’s going to act like that, and of course, I’m going to get annoyed. Nothing has gone wrong here. I don’t judge myself when I get irritated or frustrated with them. That is me being a human; that is my reality. It’s okay to feel those emotions. I know that I am creating them with my thoughts, and I know that Joe and Nancy don’t need to change in order for me to feel better. I allow the feelings while keeping the ownership of them.
When I do feel annoyed, I direct my mind to the thoughts, “This is how he’s supposed to be right now, even though I don’t understand why.” Compassion and curiosity always feel better than judgment and disapproval. I remind myself that he’s doing his best. I’ll just love him. No need to cause myself extra suffering.
