How I Dealt With My Parents’ New ‘Companion’ Damien

Ugh, I was dreading winterim. The holiday season was in full swing and I was happy to be home with family, but there was just this icky feeling. I’d been seeing Damien showing up on my parents’ Facebooks for a while, but I’d only met him a few times. Even then, I could pick up the hints. Things seem to have gotten serious pretty fast; Mom and Dad found him on Craigslist two months ago, and now he’s staying over for all of winterim? Mom and Dad said to just treat him like a family friend, but the whole situation just makes me so uncomfortable.

First of all, he doesn’t like dogs! I cannot have my parents boning down with a dog hater! At family weekend, I was excited to meet the stud who brought life back to my parents’ marriage, but he just went on and on about ‘allergies’ and ‘just being more of a cat person’. I tried to steer the conversation back to his sexual relationship with my mom and dad, but he just had to make it awkward! Less slandering cute doggies and more going doggy with Mom, Damien!

And, like, it’s great that Damien’s helping Dad explore his sexuality. He became so much more body positive after bottoming for the first time, and that’s been really valuable for our relationship. But now he’s replying to my texts with ‘yas yas YAS’ and ‘PERIOD GURL!’ Like, it’s fine if Damien wants to make Dad his bitch, but does he have to introduce him to all this lingo? It just makes the whole situation so weird

So, suffice to say, I wasn’t looking forward to sharing a room with Damien this winterim. I tried a peace offering with a gift of flavored condoms, but he just stared at me like I was some sort of weirdo! Butt out, Damien!! I’m not weird! He’s the one that painted his side of our room burgundy? Who likes burgundy?! I’m trying to be supportive of my parents, but it’s just so hard to bear the knowledge that the man shattering their pelvises has bad taste in colors! 

I could not tolerate it any more. If my parents want to have a third, fine, but they need to be a good roommate to me too. So I approached my parents, asked them to get rid of Damien, and gave them a list of reasonable conditions for their next companion. In the end, I got the room to myself and Damien’s been confined to the basement for the foreseeable future. Still, it hurts my soul every time my parents go down there and I hear him blasting Katy Perry. I can accept a man half my parents’ age having intercourse with them, but I cannot accept him fucking them to “Firework.” 

—CT ’26


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