Abstract
Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer (LGBTQ+) people in the United States have achieved several important legal and social gains in the recent past. These achievements can be seen in the legalizing of same-sex marriage, nationwide access to adoption, and more Gay–Straight Alliances. It is also the case that more LGBTQ+ people are maintaining relationships with their parents after coming out. However, these advances often obscure the reality of greater discrimination and violence against queer people compared to heterosexuals. This has led some commentators to suggest that the contemporary U.S. queer rights movement is incomplete. In this paper, we show how heterosexism and homophobia continue to operate in relationships between parents and their lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) children in the United States. We argue that preserving parent–LGB child relationships involves managing the meaning attached to time. More specifically, LGBs and their parents use “remedial emotion work,” a form of emotion work that involves diminishing, transforming, and thwarting noxious feelings—on behalf of oneself and others—by envisioning a future where the strained relationship is improved. Through remedial emotion work, LGBs and their parents are able to preserve their familial relationships, but at a cost: placing the emotional well-being of parents above those of LGBs and bolstering heterosexism.
Introduction
The recent past has been marked by structural advances for lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) rights in the United States. This can be seen in the legalization of same-sex marriage (Obergefell v. Hodges 2015), nationwide access to adoption for LGB-adoptive parents (see Barbash 2016; DeMillo 2017), and increases in Gay–Straight Alliances in schools (see Toomey et al. 2011). This maps onto increases in public support for LGB rights and acceptance. Although rates vary across the globe, approximately 72 percent of Americans say homosexuality should be accepted in society (Poushter and Kent 2020). 1 This is a drastic increase from 52 percent in 2002. The more widespread acceptance of LGB people is reflected in the higher number of LGBs who are choosing to come out to, and maintain relationships with, their families of origin. As of 2019, 75 percent of lesbian and gay people report being out to their family and close friends—though the number is lower for bisexuals (at 19 percent) (Brown 2019). This is in stark contrast to LGBs who came out to their parents in the 1980s and 1990s. At this time, LGBs were more likely to fear negative reactions upon coming out to their parents (Patterson 2000; Willoughby, Dotty, and Malik 2008), and many chose not to come out to family at all (Savin-Williams and Dube 1998) or saw very little of them once their sexual identity was disclosed (Seidman 2002).
Being out to and seeing parents on a regular basis do not reveal much about the quality of parent–LGB child relationships. Many of these relationships continue to be characterized by heterosexism and homophobia—simply put, the relationship is preserved but may be strained (see Flockhart 2022; Flockhart and Elliott 2020; Reczek and Bosley-Smith 2021; Van Bergen et al. 2021).
The continued discrimination and tension in these family relationships despite being “out” reflects the current historical moment in which LGBs and their families of origin live—one where LGBs are more frequently accepted, but with conditions. For example, Jessica Fields (2001) found that parents accept their LGB children to the extent that they are gender normative and committed to heteronormative ritual, 2 thereby making them non-threatening to the supremacy of heterosexuality. Similarly, Kristin Scherrer, Emily Kazyak, and Rachel Schmitz (2015) found that many parents of bisexual people serve as “gatekeepers” to their child’s sexuality, controlling how and when their child’s sexual identity is revealed to other family members. This underscores the reality that coming out is a process that plays out within family systems, always embedded within the broader cultural context, made up of interdependent family members with differently situated relational power.
Despite the increased acceptance of LGBs in the United States, then, the contemporary lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer (LGBTQ+) Rights Movement is “incomplete” (Flockhart 2022; Flockhart and Elliott 2020; Seidman 2002). Parent and LGB child relationships are more likely to be preserved today than 20 years ago, but there are also conditions to such acceptance (e.g., gender- and heteronormativity, parental control over identity disclosure, etc.). A growing body of scholarship has begun exploring how parent–LGB child relationships are preserved under these conditions of incomplete acceptance (Flockhart 2022; Flockhart and Elliott 2020; Reczek and Bosley-Smith 2021). Recently, Rin Reczek and Emma Bosley-Smith (2021) contributed to this discussion, arguing that these relationships are preserved through “conflict work”—engaging in conflict directly but avoiding confrontations. This involves managing conflict by educating parents on LGB identities, not talking about LGB identities altogether, accepting conflict, or setting up boundaries with parents regarding LGB identities. Similarly, Amy Stone (2020) argues that LGBs do “comfort work” to reduce heterosexual parents’ discomfort when their parents are in queer spaces (in Stone’s research, this was an LGBTQ+ Carnival event).
In this article, we argue that the work of maintaining parent–LGB child relationships draws, specifically, on emotion work—changing the degree or quality of feelings in oneself and others (Hochschild 1983). More specifically, we develop here the concept of “remedial emotion work” to highlight the temporality of emotion work. By identifying progress being made in a parent–child relationship currently compared to the past, and imagining a future where their parent–child relationship will be improved, parents and LGBs are able to diminish some of the noxious feelings that threaten their relationship in the present. While this emotion work allows the relationship to be preserved, it comes at a cost: bolstering and protecting the system of heterosexism and homophobia that requires LGBs and their parents to use remedial emotion work in the first place.
Time Work and the Temporality of Emotion Work
Time is socially defined and reflects culture (Sorokin and Merton 1937; Zerubavel 1982). In the United States, cultural ideas about self-sufficiency, financial independence, and expectations of occupational achievement shape how a person feels about what they have or have not yet accomplished. “Time work,” then, is a strategy that people use to manage their experiences of time (Flaherty 2003; Flaherty and Fine 2001). For example, if a person feels that they need to be married by the age of 30, and are now 29, they may transform how they think about their expectation of age and marriage by telling themselves that 35 is a much more reasonable expectation for when someone should be married. Here, time work is used to manage the unpleasant feelings of being “off time”—when a person’s ideas about when a certain life event should be achieved are incongruent with what they have achieved at the current moment (McKelvey 2020). Here, we expand on the conceptual use of time work by considering how time can be manipulated to preserve strained familial relationships. Emotion work is central to this process.
Emotion work is often done with consciousness of time. For example, emotional pasts are used as the foundation for our behaviors in the present, as well as how we think and feel about ourselves vis-à-vis others (Maines, Sugrue, and Katovich 1983; Mattley 2002; Mead 1932). This is apparent in David Snow and Leon Anderson’s (1987) discussion of “fictive storytelling” among people experiencing homelessness. By embellishing things they did in the past (e.g., being heroic)—a practice Snow and Anderson call “identity talk”—people can signify a positive image of themselves in the present. Invoking the past, even creative or imagined versions of it, can be a way to manage feelings and identity in the here and now.
Manipulating feelings in the present is also central to our behaviors and relationships with others in the present. Arlie Hochschild (1989), in her research with heterosexual married couples, shows how rethinking feelings and expectations about the domestic division of labor allows women to manage the anger that the uneven domestic division of labor creates in their life. Constructing “family myths” is central to this process. By convincing themselves that the housework is distributed equitably (even when it is not) women can diminish some of the resentment they feel toward their partner—a solution that may not have a lasting effect.
Less attention has been given to the role that emotional futures play in shaping our behaviors, thinking, and feelings in the present (Barsic, Van Der Linden, and Argembeau 2016; Beckert 2016). Hazel Markus and Paula Nurius’s (1986) research on “possible selves” is an important exception. Possible selves serve two functions for people’s current behavior. First and foremost, possible selves serve as motivation. For example, fear that one may be financially insecure in the future may serve as motivation for working harder and taking less financial risk in the present. Possible selves can also be symbols of hope. Imagining a promising career allows an unemployed person to maintain positive self-regard in the present. Catherine Barsic et al. (2016) extend this idea in their discussion of “emotional future thinking” (EmoFT). Instead of self-concept, they consider how focusing on the future can regulate emotion in the present. For instance, by thinking about one’s future in a positive light, one can maintain a positive mood (especially happiness) in the present.
In this article, we show how emotional futures and emotional pasts are useful beyond regulating self-concept and mood and need not only be used to shape one’s own feelings. Focusing on the future and the past can also facilitate relationship management—and rationalize maintaining relationships—that cause emotional pain in oneself and one’s family. This is accomplished through remedial emotion work.
Emotion Work and Remedial Emotion Work
The concept of emotion work has evolved since it was first proposed by Arlie Hochschild (1979) nearly 50 years ago. In its original conception, emotion work was the act of trying to change the degree or quality of a feeling in oneself. This was done through three strategies: “cognitive emotion work,” changing images, ideas, or thoughts to change the feelings they provoke; “bodily emotion work,” attempts to change the somatic or physical symptoms of emotion; and, “expressive emotion work,” changing expressive gestures in an attempt to change inner feelings. Arlie Hochschild (1983) expanded the analytic utility of emotion work in her discussion of bill collectors who used emotional management techniques to obtain compliance from debtors. 3 Here, the focus turns to how the feelings of others are manipulated. 4 Peggy Thoits (1996) calls this “interpersonal emotion management”—the work people do to change the feeling of others (see, also, Francis 1994).
In this study, we include analysis of emotion work aimed at changing the degree or quality of a feeling both in oneself and in others. Additionally, we expand the utility of the concept of emotion work by highlighting how conceptions of time shape how emotion work is done. More specifically, we show how LGBs and parents of LGB children identify improvements in their strained relationship compared to the past (e.g., when they first came out to a parent), and the possibility of their strained familial relationships being better in the future, to diminish or transform harmful feelings that strain the relationship in the present. We call this “remedial emotion work”—a short-term strategy of relationship management used under the assumption that one’s familial relationship, though strained now, will improve in time. Remedial emotion work is a short-term strategy because it is used with the assumption that any strain in a familial relationship will not last forever. In this way, envisioning a better relationship in the future facilitates the use of remedial emotion work. If the parent–child relationship was permanently strained, imagining improvements compared to the past, or a future where the relationship is improved, would not have the same effect at lessening or transforming unpleasant feelings that strain the relationship in the present (Flockhart and Ezzell, 2025).
We identify two strategies of remedial emotion work that adult LGB people and their parents use to preserve strained relationships: focusing on progress and anticipating the future. The first transforms unwanted feelings that strain the parent–child relationship into a temporary nuisance by focusing on progress being made in the relationship. The second similarly diminishes and transforms unpleasant feelings by emphasizing the possible stabilizing effect of future heteronormative ritual (e.g., getting married and having children) and affirming the “naturalness” of love between parent and child. Both strategies aim to lessen the effect of anger, anxiety, and discomfort that strain the adult LGB–parent relationship in the present. The first suggests that while things are not ideal they have gotten better over time, and the second projects a future wherein the achievement of heteronormative milestones has dissolved lingering relationship strain.
In the conclusion, we first analyze how remedial emotion work among LGBs and their parents, while managing or alleviating unpleasant feelings in the present for self and/or other, can also contribute to the reproduction of heterosexism and homophobia. Next, we discuss how remedial emotion work contributes to a larger discussion of discrimination in the United States. Unlike more blatant forms of discrimination in the past, and alongside the recent increase in anti-LGBTQ+ legislative discrimination (see American Civil Liberties Union [ACLU] 2025) and, specifically, recent upticks in interpersonal discrimination and harassment (slurs, threats, and poor treatment in healthcare and employment areas) targeting transgender and nonbinary individuals (Minkin et al. 2025), anti-LGB discrimination in the current era can often be more subtle—a form of “everyday discrimination” which can, we argue, make inequality more challenging to overcome. In closing, we highlight the utility of remedial emotion work as a “generic process” that can contribute to our understanding of inequality reproduction in a variety of interpersonal relationships.
Methods and Analysis
Data from this study come from in-depth interviews with 32 LGB people and 15 parents of LGB children (N = 47) conducted by the first author. Most interviews took place in coffee shops or on the campus of a large research institution in the South between spring of 2016 and the fall of 2019. In comprising the sample, the first author sought diversity in age, sexual identity, education level, and racial identification. The parent-sample was comprised of a wide age range (45–77 years old), with children who were 18 to 42 years old. Eleven of the parents were white, 5 two were Black, and two identified as multiracial. Six of the parents had a bachelor’s degree, one had a graduate degree, four had some college (but did not graduate), and four ended their formal education after receiving a high school diploma. Ten of the parents were women and five men. All 15 parents identified as heterosexual. In contrast, the LGB sample was 18 to 77 years old and identified as white (21), Black (3), Asian American (1), Indian American (1), Latinx (4), and multiracial (2). Six of the LGB participants had a graduate degree, 8 had bachelor’s degrees, 10 were current college students, 6 had some college, and 2 achieved a high school diploma. Nineteen of the LGB participants identified as women and 13 as men. Finally, 14 participants identified as bisexual, 9 as lesbian, and 9 as gay.
In most cases, LGBs and parents of LGBs who were interviewed were not matched (i.e., we did not interview specific pairs of LGBs and their parents). There were, however, some exceptions to this. Three of the LGB participants also recruited their parents to participate. In total, there were three parent and LGB child pairs that were interviewed. In all three cases, both parents were interviewed, in addition to their adult LGB child.
Participants were recruited through three channels. Some were recruited through personal contacts, then through snowball sampling. Others were recruited through fliers placed in various LGBTQ+ centers in and near a campus in a medium-sized city in the southeastern United States. Finally, the remaining participants were recruited with the help of “Parents, Families, and Friends, of Lesbians and Gays” (PFLAG) offices (in the same medium-sized southeastern city).
Most interviews took place in coffee shops or a university campus building in a medium-sized city in the southeastern United States. Eight interviews were conducted using Skype. Participant anonymity was protected by the removal of any identifying features (names, background information, and places) mentioned in the interview, and these potential identifiers were replaced with pseudonyms during transcription. Interviews were recorded and transcribed soon thereafter so that emergent themes could inform subsequent interviews (Charmaz 2014; Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw 2011).
Data analysis proceeded inductively. Themes, patterns, and conceptual categories were identified as they emerged (Esterberg 2002); therefore, findings were grounded in the empirical data and developed throughout the course of data collection (Glaser and Strauss 1967; Strauss 1987). An inductive coding process was used to analyze the data (Charmaz 2014). Data were coded to organize the strategies of emotion work that LGBs and parents of LGBs used to navigate relationships with each other as well as other family members. Semi-structured interviews revealed two different strategies of relationship management: focusing on progress and focusing on the future. As we will show, both strategies of remedial emotion work require managing one’s subjective understanding of time. While focusing on progress involves transcending the past, focusing on the future involves anticipating a better familial relationship to come.
Transcending the Past: Focusing on Progress
When discussing their relationships, the participants often focused on the progress they had made to diminish or transform destructive feelings. This occurred in two ways. One way involved emphasizing problematic behaviors that had been overcome. The other highlighted new, more positive behaviors. In both cases, accentuating progress relied heavily on making comparisons to the past. This was accomplished by identifying changes in behavior or talk and by accentuating any evidence of positive changes in familial relationships.
At Least They Don’t Do That Anymore
LGBs and their parents were sometimes hurt by each other’s comments or behaviors. For LGB participants, discomfort, annoyance, anger, and frustration frequently resulted from something a parent said about their sexuality or about LGB people as a group. Even when annoyance or hurt feelings resulted from something said in the present, focusing on progress made over time was a way to diminish the sting of these comments. This was done, in part, by making comparisons to the past and highlighting the hurtful things parents no longer said or did. Marco, a 21-year-old Latino gay man, spoke of how his father had changed:
I think my dad is more accepting now, though by no means is he, like, ok with it [Marco being gay] . . . which, you know, makes me frustrated. But yeah, he is not as harsh as he was, though. I can remember there was a time that whenever anything came on the news [about gay people] he would say something negative . . . which made me so angry, and, like, at least he doesn’t do that anymore which makes me hopeful . . . Like, now I feel like if something comes on about gay people he is more likely to question it. Like, “Is that really true? Marco, have you heard about this?” Like, stuff like that. So, I think he wants to educate himself about LGBT people which, you know, is nice, it feels good to know he is questioning that.
It is as if he is saying, “This stings, but we’ve still come a long way from where we were,” to lessen the sting. Connor, a 23-year-old white gay man, further illustrated:
I feel like, with the Orlando shooting, 6 my family took that a lot better than they would have in the past.
How so?
So, my grandma said, “That man [the shooter] was crazy and it was awful what happened. But he shouldn’t have taken matters into his own hands even though those people weren’t walking with Jesus.” She said, “They [LGB people] will be judged in the end, but it is not man’s place to do the judging; it is God’s place.” So, like, I fully recognize that is an awful thing to say . . . and it made me like super sad and angry to hear it . . . But, also, she just left it at that. So, honestly, the fact that she did not condemn them [the survivors] all to hell and say they got what they deserved, is actually an improvement. Which, like, is awful. I am not justifying it . . . You have to understand them [Connor’s family] to understand that is actually progress . . . My grandma may get there slower than the rest [of my family] but, I mean, I try to be hopeful that they will [become more accepting].
Identifying changes in behavior or comments—a decline in homophobic remarks or actions from their parents or grandparents—allowed LGBs to forgive some of the hurtful things family members said and did and thereby dimmish the hurt and sadness such remarks fostered. Mary Gray (2009) reports similar findings among queer youth living in the rural South. These teenagers and young adults regularly stood up for townsfolk who made homophobic comments directed at LGBs as a group, and, at times, at them specifically. Their shared connection to the South was used to justify this defense. Because they shared many of the same hobbies and interests and went to the same schools and churches, it was easier to forgive homophobic remarks and actions. LGBs in this study similarly worked to diminish the anger and discomfort stemming from homophobic remarks made by their family. For them, it was not a shared attachment to region that served as the fulcrum about which emotion work turned, but evidence of “improvements” in their parents’ and other family members’ treatment of LGB people. By highlighting such progress, LGBs were able to be hopeful that the relationship would continue to improve, thus placing an expiration date on the negative feelings the relationship created.
Parents of LGB children also made comparisons to the past to diminish unwanted feelings. The feelings they aimed to change, however, were their own and their child’s. Michelle (white, 45 years old), the mother of a 22-year-old bisexual, Reese (white), provides an example:
My mother has always loved Reese. But when Reese came out, it was really hard for her [Michelle’s mother/Reese’s grandmother]. She was just heartbroken, honestly . . . So, there was some tension there for a while . . . Reese felt very betrayed and angry with her [Reese’s grandmother]. But, six years later, my mom is more accepting of it . . . For example, she attended Reese’s college graduation, and Reese and her girlfriend were there together holding hands and everything. My mom didn’t make a stink about it. So, to me, and I told Reese this, like, that is progress. And there continues to be progress, so that feels really good for me . . . I also try to, you know, explain to Reese that she [Grandma] is getting there . . . it won’t always be so tense, you know . . . Hopefully it eases some of her frustration to know that [her grandmother is becoming more accepting].
Parents also worked to restore relationships between their LGB children and other family members. They did this by comparing other family members’ past and present behaviors. For example, Cynthia (multiracial, 63 years old), the mother of a 31-year-old multiracial gay son, Collin, pointed to this:
Collin was devastated when he came out because his father, who I was married to at the time, basically he [Collin’s father] said something akin to “you are not my son.” And, you know, he [Collin’s father] has gotten better. I mean, they have a relationship now. And it isn’t perfect . . . and he [Collin’s father] still says things about gay people that make Collin super angry . . . But, like, I say to Collin, there is only so much you can expect from people. You cannot control them. So, he may not be entirely on board, which, for a mother, that is hard to see. But, you know, he is also improving. They love each other . . . which I try to convey to Collin to sort of encourage him to drop the hurt and start rebuilding what they [Collin and his father] lost.
As Cynthia noted, her ex-husband acting homophobically toward Collin was hard for Collin, but it was also hard for her. Cynthia perceived an experience of betrayal and anger in Collin that she wanted to diminish. By focusing on the progress of these other family members, even if limited, parents such as Cynthia hoped to diminish their own and their child’s unpleasant feelings.
Citing a decrease in homophobic comments and behaviors was only one of the ways that participants used narratives of progress. LGBs and their parents also highlighted new supportive and accepting comments and behaviors that were interpreted as signs of progress. Focusing on these changes served a similar purpose: diminishing pernicious feelings that threaten familial relationships in the present.
Small Signs of Progress as Evidence of Big Changes
Parents and their LGB children interpreted certain comments and behaviors as evidence of major progress. This involved exaggerating minor improvements in others’ behavior to fend off anger, resentment, and frustration. David, a 20-year-old Latino gay man, used this strategy with his mother:
She [David’s mom] is taking baby steps. We both have, actually . . . She has voiced how she can’t understand how I was born gay . . . and that is always so infuriating to hear . . . She doesn’t really cite verses in the Bible, but she refers to it. So, she’s like, “The Bible says you can’t be with a guy.” And I am like, “I could tell you otherwise.” For the most part, though, I don’t really bring it up and she ignores talking about it [David’s sexuality] . . . which continues to be frustrating . . . but I am hopeful, though, because she has made some baby steps. Like, even her acknowledging it [David being gay] is a major improvement (laughs) . . . so I am hopeful [things will continue to improve].
Exaggerating minor improvements in a parent’s feelings and behaviors toward LGB people allowed LGBs to feel better about incomplete acceptance from parents in the form of hurtful comments or pressure to fully or partially conceal their sexuality when around their parents.
People with a stigmatized identity may similarly exaggerate the positive. Gay men, for example, may “compensate” for a perceived and stigmatized transgression of hegemonic manhood (see Schrock and Schwalbe 2009; Schwalbe 2014) by highlighting their interest in traditionally masculine pursuits, such as sport (Coleman-Fountain 2014; Connell 1995; Hennen 2008; Whitesel 2014). But, for LGBs in this study, it was not stigmatized attributes associated with a discredited identity they were trying to fend off. Instead, they were trying to lesson and manage the negative feelings that came from hurtful and stigmatizing comments and lack of full acceptance from their families. Even small measures of “improvement” could be marshaled toward that end. For Karah, a white 43-year-old lesbian, the mere mention of her partner in conversation with her mother was interpreted as comforting progress:
My mom and I did recently have a conversation about the engagement [Karah’s engagement to her partner] and it was really respectful. She asked questions and used Renee’s name and everything, and I think that was really positive. And recently she came and had lunch with me at work one day. And she asked to see my ring. Which, I didn’t think she would care about that at all. Also, another thing is that Renee and I have never spent holidays together. So, I told my mom we are coming to Christmas together or I am not coming at all. And then Christmas came around and she asked about our plans, and, like, she used to always be careful to only invite me. . . which was just gut wrenching and, like, made me feel like our relationship [Karah and Renee’s] was invisible or unworthy in her eyes . . . But, she really surprised me and said, “What are y’all’s plans?” And she invited us both to her house. So there have been a lot of really great first steps that are encouraging . . . I try to focus on that.
Past sexuality-related discussions with parents had, in some cases, felt “gut wrenching” and invalidating to Karah. But she could point to even subtle shifts in language (“What are y’all’s plans?”) as efforts from her mother to widen the door toward full(er) acceptance, thus lessoning or making more palatable the lingering feelings of hurt and strain.
Sexual identity is important to LGBs. The LGB participants in this study wanted to have a relationship with their parents that allowed them to be open and honest about their sexuality and romantic relationships. Past experiences, however, had demonstrated to them that their parents were not accepting. This created a great deal of strain as our participants still counted their connections with their parents as among the most important relationships in their life. Exaggerating small signs of their parents’ progress, then, was a way to alleviate some of the bad feelings and, thus, to maintain the relationship despite its strain. Some progress—however small—was better than no progress.
The parents in our study also exaggerated positive comments and behaviors as a strategy of remedial emotion work. But there are two important differences. Unlike LGBs, parents’ exaggeration of positive comments/behaviors had an interpersonal effect. Parents generally tried to diminish their child’s anger, sadness, or frustration by exaggerating positive behaviors or comments made by other family members, whereas the LGBs in our study were more often managing their own emotions. Another important difference concerned the evidence parents used to make these exaggerations. While LGBs focused on their parents’ past behaviors, parents relied heavily on other family members’ past behaviors as a way to accentuate the progress being made. Theresa, the white 57-year-old mother of a 19-year-old bisexual, Fiona (white), used this strategy to diminish some of the anger she and her daughter had toward Fiona’s father and Theresa’s ex-husband:
Any talk for them at all is a major improvement (laughs) . . . Like I said, she [Fiona] has a lot of anger [toward him] . . . and given all the stuff that has happened, and his sort of constant cruel comments I don’t blame her [Fiona]. I mean, I have my own frustrations with him and not just for his issues with Fiona’s sexuality. . . But, I just try to tell her, you know, “Honey, this man is broken. It is nothing you did. He has an emotional disorder; it is just the way that he is.” So, I try to kind of explain that, you know, he has his own stuff, and [his] own past that has nothing to do with you . . . not sure if it helps [Fiona] at all, but I try.
Highlighting events or emotional hardships in a family member’s past was a way to rationalize some of the hurt they caused in the present and exaggerate the small improvements being made. Sympathy biographies serve a similar end (Clark 1987). Here, people use characteristics such as age, gender, or class, to determine whether sympathy is warranted (Kolb 2011; Ponticelli 1999). For parents of LGBs, it was not a specific characteristic of a family member that was used to encourage their child to have sympathy, but rather, the family member’s “emotional past” (Mattley 2002). When Theresa said, “Honey, this man is broken,” to Fiona, she offered a projected excuse in the form of a “fatalistic” appeal to biological drive (Scott and Lyman 1968)—her ex-husband’s behavior was in some ways beyond his or Fiona’s control. Importantly, this was not done to engender sympathy for her ex-husband, but to support the emotional management strategies of Fiona with the goal of relationship maintenance (“Any talk for them at all is a major improvement”). For parents of LGBs, by encouraging their child to change the way they felt about and made sense of the family member who caused them emotional pain—by, for example, citing past emotional hardships the family member went through—parents hoped to lessen some of their child’s anger toward the family member who had hurt their child, and exaggerate the significance of small improvements.
Exaggerating small improvements or drawing attention to the decline in homophobic comments/behaviors among other family members allowed parents and LGBs to diminish hurtful feelings, and by extension, preserve familial relationships they deemed important. Significantly, it was the belief that these strategies were necessary only in the short-term that made them so successful. Focusing on progress a parent or other family member had made incited hope that progress would continue in the future. Focusing on progress, however, relied heavily on making comparisons to the past in order to demonstrate improvements (e.g., highlighting comments a parent no longer said or did, or emphasizing emotional pasts to explain hurt caused by other family members). In the end, though, the onus of change was placed on LGBs, not those who possessed homophobic attitudes and behaviors. In the next section, we show how LGBs and their parents also focused on the future as a way to diminish and transform noxious feelings in the present.
Anticipating the Future
LGBs and their parents lessened, and in some cases transformed, hurtful feelings by focusing on the future. This was done in two ways, both of which projected the inevitability of a better future. First, both groups reasoned that the love they felt for each other would overcome anger, frustration, and discomfort. Current emotional states were thus defined as temporary. Second, parents and LGBs highlighted LGBs’ plan to marry or have children. Participating in these heteronormative rituals, they reasoned, would normalize LGBs and diminish any remaining anger, discomfort, or disappointment.
The Inevitability of a Better Future: Love Conquers All
Parents and their LGB children had been hurt by comments and behaviors by each other, as well as those made by siblings and extended family. The belief that underlying love between a parent and child would eventually heal strained relationships aided them in diminishing and transforming the pain they felt. Christopher, a 29-year-old Black gay man, demonstrated the utility of focusing on the future to lessen and transform noxious feelings:
How do you feel about the relationship you have with your mom now?
I’m just, like, ok. I mean, you can’t waste your time dwelling on the anger and pain. I mean, I know she still loves me regardless of the things she has said. I don’t have any doubt about that. I do know that eventually she will just tire of being so spiteful. But if she wants to hold on [to the spite] for now and be nasty or whatever, that is fine. It is not doing me any harm . . . well [not] too much at least (laughs) . . . and it is not going to do our relationship any harm . . . She loves me, and eventually she will tire of it [being angry about Christopher being a gay]. Things will be better. We love each other, and I feel like it is that simple.
The certainty of a better parent–child relationship in the future framed current anger, sadness, and other unwanted feelings into a temporary irritation. The success of this strategy was rooted in the belief that love between parent and child was natural and would therefore, in time, overcome hurt feelings. David, a 20-year-old Latino gay man explained further:
She [David’s mom] sees me being gay as a bad mark on our family. She didn’t want me to tell people . . . That was sort of hard to hear and, I mean, just sad and frustrating . . . I also know that my mom will eventually just accept it. It might take some time, but she will [accept it]. And my dad, like there will be some more awkward conversations, but he will [accept me too]. They love me . . . That is what parents do . . . at some point, things will get better.
Believing that the power of love between parent and child would heal all wounds reflects what Steven Gordon (1989) calls an “emotional culture”—belief and certainty about the nature, causes, distributions, value, and dynamics of emotions for a specific group of people. In the U.S. cultural context, children are taught to expect unconditional love and selflessness from their parents, while parents are expected to provide it (Hays 1996; Kaufman 2013; Lareau 2011). LGB children, then, viewed their relationship with their parents through a lens of unconditional love. Though there may be strain, tension, and arguments in the present, it is only a temporary inconvenience. Over time, they reasoned, their parent–child relationship would improve. The love between parent and child would eventually overcome anger, frustration, annoyance, and sadness. As David stated, “They love me . . . That is what parents do . . . at some point things will get better.”
Parents of LGBs also believed that unconditional love would repair strained relationships and relieve unpleasant feelings. For them, the logic extended beyond parent–child relationships to include other family members. Eliza (white, 54 years old) went through a period where she and her daughter, Miranda (white, 22 years old), did not talk to some of their extended family (grandparents, aunts, and cousins). Eliza’s decision to avoid these family members was meant to keep Miranda, especially, from getting upset due to their extended family’s homophobia. Belief in the healing power of love between family members helped Eliza deal with some of the anger and loss she felt as a result of cutting ties with family:
It was a hard time . . . Miranda just felt really rejected and unloved by them . . . But, like I said [to my extended family], either you are with us or you are not. I will always side with her [Miranda]. I mean, she is my daughter . . . I sort of figured it would be better at some point. Like they [extended family] would get over it . . . And I told Miranda that over and over to sort of soothe her anger and (pause) sense of loss from losing them, which was always really bad around like any sort of holiday that we had historically spent together.
Eliza did not think the strain between her, Miranda, and their extended family would last indefinitely. The promise that things would be better in the future transformed her loss into something temporary, thus lessening its intensity. Connie (white, 53 years old) similarly diminished some of the initial concern she experienced when her son Grant (white), who is now 30, came out as gay:
When he told me I may have been a little bit surprised. Gosh, I am trying to remember. It feels like so long ago [that Grant came out]! I think some of my initial concerns were more about his future and safety, and, like, is he going to be accepted? Is he going to get this, is he going to get that? . . . I also worried about there being strife between him and his siblings; which never happened, by the way. And, you know, that is just the thing. We love each other. Our family is close, so I just knew, like, he is my child and we all love each other. So I knew it would ultimately be a non-issue even if it was [an issue], like, initially, you know?
Parents used their belief in the healing power of love between family as a way to diminish initial concern about their child’s sexuality (Connie) or cutting ties with family members (Eliza). Michelle Wolkomir (2001) refers to this as an “emotional promise”—the promise of some emotional reward if one behaves a certain way (see Broad 2011). In the case of parents and LGBs, it was not behavior that needed to change in order to transform harmful feelings. By focusing on the belief that love between family members would repair strained relationships, parents and LGBs placed an expiration date (albeit one that was unknown) on anger, sadness, loss, and strain. Believing that these feelings would not last forever diminished some of their sting in the present.
Emphasizing the “naturalness” of love between family allowed participant to embrace hope that strained familial relationships—and the unwanted feelings they created—would diminish. However, this strategy did not specify a time by which one could expect these feelings to lessen. In the next section, we show how the belief that LGBs would eventually get married or have children gave LGBs and their parents a more specific estimate for when they could expect emotional pain and familial strain to lessen.
The Inevitability of a Better Future: Participation in Heteronormativity
LGBs and parents also emphasized the healing power of “sameness” and heteronormative ritual (e.g., marriage, having children, etc.; see Pollitt et al. 2021) as a way to both lessen unpleasant feelings in the present and promote hope for a good relationship in the future. An emotional promise came into play here, as well; both groups diminished anger, anxiety, and discomfort by telling themselves that future marriage and childbearing/childrearing among LGBs would resolve strain in their parent–child relationship. Marriage, especially, symbolizes normality and sameness to heterosexuals (Bryant 2008; Fields 2001; Kimport 2013; Seidman 2002, 2014). For Marco (Latino, 21 years old, gay), the lack of a future marked by marriage to a woman was a source of pain for his mother. Yet Marco still drew on the notion of “sameness” as the basis for resolved parent–child tensions in his imagined life to come:
Deep down I know they [Marco’s parents] just want me to be happy. But, for them, ideally, that would mean me getting married to a woman, and more specifically, a Hispanic woman . . . But I feel like over time she [Marco’s mom] is going to change to where she just wants me to be happy and drop the marrying a woman or Hispanic woman altogether. Like, once she sees that I am in a relationship with a man and I am happy, she is going to be ok with it. I mean, she might be disgusted by it at first, but eventually she will come around because, like, she will see that we [Marco and his future partner] are no different [from heterosexual couples]. Like, that is part of her thing. She thinks gay couples are somehow bad and different. . . which is hurtful and makes me so mad. . . But, like, once she sees we are just like everyone else and do the same things as everyone else, she will come around . . . That might be hopeful thinking on my part though (laughs).
Highlighting similarity between heterosexuals and LGBs, and downplaying difference, is a central way the contemporary Gay Right’s Movement achieved acceptance, assimilation, and legal rights (Bullough, Eaklor, and Meek 2006; D’Emilio and Freedman 1998; Ghaziani 2011; Hennen 2008; Richardson 2005; Seidman 2014). The guiding principle of what sexualities scholars refer to as a “politics of sameness” can be applied, as in the case of Marco, above, to strained parent–child relationships. The goal of our participants, however, was not to gain acceptance vis-à-vis similarities to heterosexuals, but to diminish unpleasant feelings in the present and repair or preserve strained relationships with family. Importantly, it was not just the projected future happiness of the LGBs in our study that enabled them to imagine a more emotionally tolerable, if not rewarding, relational dynamic with their parents, it was their sameness/similarity to heterosexuals (“. . . once she sees we are just like everyone else and do the same things as everyone else, she will come around”; emphasis added). Beyond being “just like everyone else,” the legal option of same-sex marriage offered potentially powerful emotional resources as marriage is a marker of heteronormative achievement.
Parents, too, emphasized their child’s plan to get married as a way to lessen anxiety about their child’s future. For parents, though, having grandchildren was equally important. Jeff, the 49-year-old white father of a gay son, Ryan (white, 19 years old), explained:
I mean, one of my biggest things was Ryan’s future. Like, he will never get married or have children. Like, he will never have those joys in his life. That was hard for me. And it is still sometimes hard for me, if I am being honest. But, I mean, I sort of began to realize hey, he can do that. He can have children, maybe not biological, but he can adopt. And he can get married . . . and now he can even do it legally . . . Thinking about that makes me feel better about things.
Rachel (white, 53 years old), who was the partner of Jeff and mother of Ryan, also focused on Ryan’s plan to have children and get married as a way to diminish anxiety about his future:
He has told me that he wants to get married . . . and have kids, too! So I am safe there! I mean, that is a big thing . . . and like Jeff said, we do worry a bit about that . . . But that is true for a lot of parents, though . . . we want grandchildren!
Having children can change how one feels about oneself. In American society, becoming a parent is one of the central markers of adulthood (Aronson 2008; Furstenberg et al. 2004). In this study, LGBs saw having children as a way to repair strained familial relationships rather than simply as a marker of adulthood. Interestingly, Mieke Thomeer et al. (2018) found same-sex couples to experience anticipatory minority stressors, stressors expected to occur in the future related to the stigmatization of their sexual identities. Two of the most frequently cited life events experienced by the couples as minority stressors were marriage and parenting. The same-sex couples experienced stresses, such as legal obstacles and lack of acceptance, beyond the stress associated with marriage and parenting by heterosexual couples. But for the LGBs and parents in our study, the “sameness” suggested by such imagined heteronormative milestones provided a positive emotional resource in the present. The promise of “sameness” enabled them to diminish anger, discomfort, worry, or strain in their current parent–child relationship, and they took comfort in this belief.
In sum, focusing on the future and emphasizing progress share an important commonality. By identifying the progress a homophobic family member had made and emphasizing the inevitability of a better familial relationship in the future (due to the naturalness of love between parent and child, or LGBs’ intended participation in heteronormative ritual), LGBs and their parents transformed their own and each other’s unpleasant feelings into a temporary inconvenience. The familial relationship was either improving—which was used as evidence that the relationship would continue to improve (focusing on progress)—or would improve in the future (focusing on the future). The strain in their relationship was real but finite and, thus, manageable.
Time, Emotion, and the Reproduction of Heterosexism
Expectations about success, self-sufficiency, promotion, independence, and a progressive pacing of life shape how one assesses and experiences their successes and failures. Josephine McKelvey (2020) demonstrates this in her research with people who feel “off time”—they have not yet achieved the educational, economic, and cultural expectations associated with being “successful” for someone their age. For example, a person who has not completed a bachelor’s degree at the age of 22 may feel less defeated by cultural expectations about when someone should be finished with their undergraduate degree than someone who is 40. Similarly, someone who has not achieved financial stability at the age of 30 might feel less shame than someone who is 50 and still struggling financially. In these situations, cultural expectations about when success (educational or economic) should be achieved in the United States shape how one feels about their accomplishments in the present.
Because cultural expectations about time shape our feelings, people have found ways to manage the emotions that stem from not meeting these expectations. This can be viewed through the lens of “time work” (Flaherty 2003), the work a person does to create or suppress temporal experience. One place time work is especially common is in interpersonal relationships. Iveta Jurkane-Hobein (2015) shows how couples use time work to manage anxiety and discomfort that comes from being in a long-distance relationship, and thus not spending as much time with a partner as is culturally expected for romantic relationships. Here, couples who are living apart might anticipate future meetings with each other to reduce some of the anxiety and discomfort that come from spending substantial amounts of time without the other. In this example, although emotion work is not directly named or analyzed, it is implied. Couples can use time work to alleviate or diminish the unpleasant feelings that come from not meeting cultural expectations about romantic relationships.
The relationship between time work and emotion work is more explicitly addressed in research on parenting. In the United States, parents, mothers especially, are expected to meet the demands of “intensive mothering”—the cultural expectations that “good” mothers should unselfishly devote themselves to the cultivation of their children’s well-being (Hays 1996). Jennifer Lois (2010) shows this in her research with mothers who homeschooled their children. These women grapple with the substantial time demands of homeschooling and caregiving responsibilities by altering their subjective experience of time—a process the author calls “temporal emotion work.” One way they do this is by “sequencing” phases of life. Here, a mother might diminish guilt about spending such a disproportionate amount of time on homeschooling and caregiving demands—at the cost of not having as much time to focus on career, partner, or their own leisure—by suggesting that their children will only be young for a short period of time. Mothers reasoned that they would regret not allocating this time to their children if they chose to ease up on the time demands in the present. Through sequencing, mothers compartmentalize their child’s development. In the future, these efforts suggest, such time demands will not be as necessary, therefore stringent time demands in the moment, and the stress and frustration it produces, become more tolerable.
While the relationship between time work and emotion work has been firmly established as a form of identity management (Flaherty 2003; Lois 2010; Moen and Chu 2023), the application to relationship management, and its consequences, have not. The use of “remedial emotion work” shows how transcending the past and focusing on the future serve a dual purpose in managing parent–LGB child relationships. On one hand, minimizing anger, shame, and frustration by focusing on progress across time and by anticipating an improved familial relationship in the future aids parents and LGBs in preserving otherwise strained relationships. On the other hand, these strategies also highlight an important way that heterosexism and homophobia can be reproduced through such relationship management. In both cases, the culture of homophobia and heterosexism that necessitates the use of remedial emotion work in the first place is left unaffected and unchallenged.
For example, although viewing the progressive changes in a parent–child relationship across time can allow LGBs to feel better about preserving their strained relationship in the present, this strategy also requires an acceptance or accommodation of homophobia in the present. Parents are given a pass on their homophobia because, as Marco says about his father’s past homophobic behavior, “at least he doesn’t do that anymore” (emphasis added). Similarly, exaggerating small improvements in a strained parent–child relationship allow LGBs and parents of LGBs to feel better about the continued strain in their relationship, but at the cost of preserving the system of homophobia that necessitates its use. As Theresa says about her ex-husband, “Any talk for them [her daughter, Fiona, and Fiona’s father] at all is a major improvement.” By inflating the significance of small improvements, parents and their LGB children are able to diminish anger and frustration that they have about the current state of the relationship, while remaining hopeful that such progressive changes to the relationship will continue.
One of the reasons remedial emotion work is effective in managing parent–LGB child relationships is, in part, because it is seen as temporary. Our participants anticipated future improvements. This reflects progress narratives associated with the contemporary Gay Rights Movement. Campaigns like “It Gets Better,” popularized by Dan Savage and Terry Miller in 2010, reinforce the idea that current difficulties will not last, thus encouraging hope and resilience (Grzanka and Mann 2014). For our participants, the idea that things would “get better” helped them to put up with ongoing negative emotions, lingering homophobia, and resulting relationship strain.
The use of remedial emotion work to preserve parent–LGB child relationships reflects broader shifts in how discrimination operates and is experienced. Scholars argue that the dominant forms of racism, sexism, and homophobia have become more covert over time (Bonilla-Silva 2010; Flockhart 2022; Furlotte et al. 2016). For example, “colorblind racism” frames discriminatory actions as a question of personal preference instead of structural inequality (Bonilla-Silva 2010; see, also, Brooks, Ebert, and Flockhart 2017). 7 Similarly, “gender-blindness” masks persistent and institutional sexism as an issue of individual choice (Stoll, Lilley, and Pinter 2016; see, also, Lamont 2013; P. Stone 2007). And, homophobia, too, has become more subtle, what Shawn Burn, Kelly Kadlec, and Ryan Rexer (2005) call “subtle heterosexism.” Parents may not reject LGB children outright, for example, but offer only a conditional acceptance tied to approximation of heteronormativity (Broad, Crawley, and Foley 2004; Duggan 2002; Meeks and Xavier-Brier 2013; Richardson 2005).
Remedial emotion work can function as an expression of subtle heterosexism relating not only to LGB child acceptance but also LGB–parent relationship management. By emphasizing parental progress or future acceptance, LGBs may excuse their parents’ homophobia in the present and place their parents’ emotional well-being above their own. The onus of change in this strategy is, thus, placed on LGBs.
Parents also contribute to the reproduction of homophobia and heterosexism through the “family work” (DeVault 1999) they do to preserve the relationships between their LGB child and other, less-accepting, family members. For example, focusing on progress made by these relatives (e.g., how they have made fewer homophobic comments over time), or how the power of love between family members will inevitably repair the strained relationship, helped to diminish the negative feelings the relationship caused their child, as well as their own anger and frustration at having to witness this strained relationship. Like their LGB children, these strategies relied on the hope of greater acceptance—in this case, among homophobic family members—in the future. Through their emotion work, parents preserved and justified maintaining strained familial relationships that caused themselves, and their LGB children, emotional pain.
Finally, the accommodation of heteronormativity that lied at the heart of the imagined futures that provided a sense of relief for the LGBs and parents in our study is, itself, reproductive of heterosexism. By drawing on “sameness” as the basis of relief (“. . . we are just like everyone else and do the same things as everyone else . . .”) and centering heteronormative ritual as legitimating milestones (“He can have children . . . And he can get married . . . . . . Thinking about that makes me feel better about things”), these strategies of remedial emotion work alleviate current negative feelings and anxieties but simultaneously reinforce the hegemonic centering of patriarchal and heterosexist norms tied to relationships and families. Remedial emotion work, in these contexts, thus functions as a form of “everyday inequality” (Voyer 2017) played out through mundane familial interactions.
Limitations
As an interview-based project, this study is limited by aspects of sample diversity. Although we strove to build a sample across a range of markers of identity and experience, the educational, geographic, and socioeconomic diversity of the sample is limited. Of particular note, a significant proportion of the sample are college students or college-educated, suggesting possible educational and class bias that may not reflect the broader spectrum of parent–LGB dynamics—especially in families without similar access to education or liberal-leaning institutions. And, as is the case with any interview-based project, the patterns identified by our participants cannot be applied to all LGB–parent relationships. Therefore, the primary aim of this project was analytic rather than substantive generalizability (see Yin 2009).
It is also worth noting that, as of the writing of this paper and since the completion of data collection, the political landscape as it relates to LGB acceptance and structural rights in the United States is changing. If the broader context of LGB acceptance diminishes, that very likely will have an impact on the emotion work used by LGB people and their families. They may well still turn to remedial emotion work strategies to lessen unpleasant feelings and maintain relationships. But, any loss of rights and acceptance may shift the dynamics of familial relationships, the interactive resources on which family members rely, and the intensity of the unpleasant feelings experienced by LGB people and their parents.
Future Research: Remedial Emotion Work as a Generic Process
One of the cornerstones of remedial emotion work is its reliance on “hope” that a relationship will be better in the future. This hope allowed parents and LGBs to diminish some of the negative feelings that were resulting from their strained relationship at the present time. Focusing on progress or the future allowed LGBs and their parents to transform discomfort they experienced in the present into a short-term inconvenience. These strategies, however, are not only applicable to parent–child relationships. Instead, remedial emotion work is a “generic process” (Blumer 1969; Hughes 1958; Schwalbe et al. 2000) that can be found in other relationships and other settings.
In her now famous book, The Second Shift, Hochschild (1983) found that women often constructed “family myths” to minimize some of the anger and resentment they felt toward their male partners who did not help much with domestic work or childcare. One such myth was the “upstairs/downstairs” myth, which made the husband responsible for the downstairs of the home and mothers responsible for the upstairs. Such a compromise, however, was anything but equitable as mothers quickly learned that such a division left them doing the majority of the domestic work and childcare. In short, family myths—such as the upstairs/downstairs myth—were compromises that female partners used to make themselves feel better about the gender inequity in their relationship. Their husband may, in practice, be doing less housework, but, in theory, they are responsible for 50 percent of this work.
Remedial emotion work may operate in a similar way to family myths for married couples. However, rather than creating an illusion of equality—to minimize some of the anger and resentment among couples—remedial emotion work shifted attention to a future where such inequity is no longer present. Future research, then, should consider how married couples use strategies of remedial emotion work to grapple with strain in their relationship. How might looking to the future or focusing on progress diminish some of the destructive feelings the relationship creates in the present?
Familial relationships are not the only setting where remedial emotion work has application. Martha Copp (1998) found that employers use “preventive emotion management” to keep negative feelings at bay among employees—thus keeping them happy and committed to their work. Remedial emotion work could have similar application in such settings. More specifically, how might a progress narrative be used to make an employee feel better about continued discrimination from a coworker or boss (e.g., “at least they don’t say/do this anymore”)? How might envisioning oneself in a higher position in the future diminish some of the noxious feelings their current position creates?
Also, remedial emotion work can be wielded as a form of emotional accommodation to oppressive structures and realities. The attempt by LGBs and their parents to salvage relationships often rested on claims to “sameness” with the heteronormative mainstream. This can be read as a form of cultural integration within a broader respectability politics (see Dazey 2021; Jones 2022) and as an interpersonal and emotional form of assimilation in the quest for tolerance rather than efforts to effect transformation and collective liberation (see Jung 2024). Future studies might broaden the scope and application of this analysis to consider the affective dynamics of identity and stigma management in other cross-oppression relationships. For example, how might remedial emotion work play out in the context of multiracial families (Craft, Rowley, and Perry-Jenkins 2022), transracial adoption (White et al. 2022), cross-class relationships (Butler and Vincent 2024), interracial roommate assignments (Trail, Shelton, and West 2009), coed sports (Cohen, Melton, and Peachy 2014), or any context in which people navigate relationships across imposed social and cultural divides?
Footnotes
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
