I was 28, living with my parents and going to grad music school, after having gone to a Pentecostal undergrad school. I was spending a lot of time with my first ever bf, and my father confronted me one day about it, and it wasn't pretty: he said the most horrible things one can say. And my mother just sat there and cried. I moved out shortly afterward. It was awful. Painful. And makes my heart ache when I think about it.
It took a long time for things to settle. Years really. And it is still a process. I married my current partner about 8 years ago (we've been together 15 years), and no one came from my family to the ceremony. And that hurt. Oh...my parents sent a card, and my sister said she didn't believe two men should get married, and not a word from the rest of my 3 siblings.
It's ignorance, and religious training that keep people acting stupidly. And the hard thing is this: treating those who treat you badly with consideration and kindness. One has to be a (insert expletive) saint!
Now that I am older, I don't let anyone wipe their feet on me, or suffer fools gladly. Sometimes you really do have to Act-Up. The AID's crisis taught me that, which I worry younger gay people are only dimly aware of now.
I now have a much better relationship with my siblings and parents. Still. I think about the wasted years. The unsaid (to this day) conversations. The doors not opened.
Religious oppression is real. But love is greater.
Be the love you seek.