"Do You Do All the Grocery Shopping or Does Your Wife Usually Do It?"

I was in the check out line at the grocery store the other day having a lighthearted conversation with the check out clerk and the woman in line behind me, when suddenly, things took a drastic turn…

I was talking to Pauline, the check out clerk, about these blueberry breakfast bars I buy for PJ. They’re one of the only snacks he actually likes, so I try to remember to buy them whenever I go to the store. Pauline, however, hates them- she tried them once and thought they were gross. I laugh as she tells me this because our family quite enjoys them. I asked her if it was because she thought they tasted too processed since she also just let me know she cooks at home a lot and recently made Easter lunch for her son and his family. She said she doesn’t remember why, she just knows she doesn’t like them. Point made.

Meanwhile, the lady in line behind me points to my Blackbox of Chardonnay and inquisitively asks if that’s wine. I perk up and say yes, yes it is! And it’s so good! I tell her how you get four bottles in one box and it’s delicious and we’ve been doing boxed wine for the last year since it’s such a better buy money-wise. She tells me she has been wanting to try it for a while and she just may get some for herself.

She asks if I have a big family that I’m feeding with all the food and training pants that I’m buying. I proudly say that we have three foster kids at home who, even though they’re only ages five and under, eat so much all day every day, and that it’s been fun and challenging trying to come up with new things to cook when we don’t order takeout (which, sadly, has been more times than not lately). She asks me a bit about the kiddos and I gush to her about them, as anyone would.

Sometime during all of these exchanges I notice two younger girls in the line beside me paying attention to the different conversations we have going on. They’re probably in their late teens or early twenties. They don’t say anything, but I could tell they were interested and listening.

She gets to the end of ringing me up ($400 later), and I jokingly ask Pauline if she could tell I hadn’t been grocery shopping in a while and then I dramatically tell her I was grateful just to make it out of the store alive since I was already there for well over an hour. Pauline laughs and the lady behind me who asked about the wine laughs and then, with a smile on her face, she asks me a sincere, seemingly harmless question:

“Do you do all the grocery shopping or does your wife usually do it?” 

I don’t know if it was because I had already been at the store for over an hour and was tired and had to pee or if it was because I was only half-listening as I was inserting my card into the chip reader, but for some reason her use of the word “wife” didn’t register to me. I was so confused! My wife? Well, I don’t have a wife? I’m gay. 

So, I asked, “My wife?” And she replied, “Yes?” Pauline leaned in. “Oh, I don’t have a wife,” I matter-of-factly explained. “I have a husband, but I am the one who does all the grocery shopping and he will stay home with the kids or I’ll get my mom to watch them if he’s working. Honestly, though, I don’t mind because this is like my me time where I get to relax and be by myself and get away from all the noise for a while and kind of do my own thing, so I actually really enjoy it.” No one said a word.

The atmosphere drastically changed in a matter of seconds and suddenly it was a lot quieter as I took my card out of the chip reader. Pauline finished clearing all the bags and the girls beside us tilted their heads a little as they tried their best not to look like they were still listening. Finally, after a few seconds of silence (which can feel like eternity when it’s just you and a few others standing within a few feet of each other), the lady behind me exclaimed, “Oh okay! My daughter lives in Ohio and she and her husband just bought a million dollar house and I couldn’t believe it because the house they have now is so big that I sometimes get lost in it!”

I wasn’t sure what her daughter in Ohio buying a million dollar house had anything to do with the conversation we were having, but nonetheless, I smiled and said, “Good for her!” I assume she couldn’t find anything else to say after my revelation that she no doubt wasn’t expecting, and said the first thing that came to her mind. Maybe? Who knows. I didn’t mind either way. Pauline handed me my receipt with a smile on her face and we both told each other to have a nice day and that was that.

The thing no one tells you when you come out publicly for the first time is that you’re going to have to keep coming out for the rest of your life; to co-workers, to teachers, to classmates, to neighbors, to random people in line at the grocery store. For some, it never gets easier. It took a while for me to feel secure disclosing that I am gay and that I have a husband, not a wife, to strangers. It’s all about how comfortable and safe you feel in the situation. I now take pride in telling people I have a husband, especially here in the south, because it’s kind of a way for me to say, “Look! I’m an actual person that exists and that you can see and who has a life and who does the same things that everyone else does.” 

It’s a fine line deciding who you want to spend your time on explaining you don’t have a wife or a girlfriend when you use the word “we” in a sentence. The exterminator I was talking to on the phone last year, who I had already decided I wasn’t going to use for reasons unrelated to anything other than price, innocently misgendered PJ and said “wife”. I was in such a hurry to get off the phone at that point because the kids were yelling and I had already made up my mind that he was too expensive, that I didn’t even bother correcting him. But the lady in the check out line was different to me because we were already having an honest, fun conversation about nothing, and since she asked, I found no reason to lie to her. I lied about who I was to everyone I loved for half my life until I met PJ; until I came out.

While I don’t think heterosexual should be the assumed default sexual orientation, I understand why people, especially in the area of the country we live in, automatically think your spouse/partner is someone of the opposite sex. It’s just part of life and part of being a member of the LGBTQ+ community, and it’s something we’ll most likely always have to go through.

I’ve found, though, that when I am upfront with someone and confidently tell them I have a husband and/or we have three kiddos, they never say anything negative to me. Maybe it’s because they’re taken off guard or because they want to save face and not come across as rude, but whatever the reason, when I am honest with someone and politely correct them when they misgender my husband, they are respectful and almost always apologize and continue on with the conversation like nothing happened.

Also, a lot of times (again, especially in the area we live in) people don’t talk to an openly gay person, face to face every day, so I like to always think of these moments of “coming out” as education for others who might not be so familiar with the LGBTQ+ community or who might have preconceived ideas about us. When you act like it’s no big deal that you’re gay and married and have kids, then maybe they’ll, too, realize it’s no big deal that you’re gay and married and have kids. Is it our responsibility to educate others who might not accept us? Maybe not, but we have an opportunity to open their eyes and show them we’re here and we’re not going anywhere, nor should we have to.

At the end of the day, I can feel joy and take comfort in knowing that I am gay, that I am happy as an out individual and, of course, that I not only buy those blueberry breakfast bars for my husband since they’re one of the only snacks he actually likes, but that I in fact do all the grocery shopping in our family. Not my husband, and certainly not my wife.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.