So my roommate's subconscious is practicing some kind of bizarre psychological warfare on me. I swear she is quiet as a mouse when I come home and while I am changing into my pj's but as soon as I get into bed she starts with the snoring at a volume normally reserved for small aircrafts. Which would explain while I'm here, blogging while I wait for the new episode of Glee to loud. Kris, I am so taking you up on your offer to crash at your place asap.
So, I've been inspired by Kris and Jack's more personal blogs to do one on my history to give you a better sense of who I am. I've been debating about which experience to blog about, how much to reveal, and what's appropriate. I've decided on my experience with coming out. I'm from a very small town, so I knew I couldn't come out to any of my friends back home (with two exceptions) until after coming out to my family, because otherwise, they'd hear it from someone else. I also thought I wouldn't be able to come out to my family until after I was done school and wasn't at all dependent on my parents, because I was sure that I would be kicked out. For some reason, I always end up having really meaningful conversations with my mom while we're in the car. I have no idea why. It may have something to do with that being pretty much the only alone time we have together. I believe I was showing her some music from Rent, which turned to a conversation about the content of the movie. At some point I got really frustrated with her talking about how she couldn't understand how gay marriage is bad and la-de-da and just burst out "I'm bisexual". Her response couldn't have surprised me more. She said "Oh, I kind of figured you were. You're always hanging out with those gays." I just stared at her, in shock. "You're...not mad?" I asked "Well what do you expect me to do kick you out?" She laughed. "Ummm...yeah" She sighed, "I've already come to terms with it. You're still my daughter and it doesn't change who you are. But I do want grandchildren....so try to marry a man." At that point I muttered something about adoption and artificial insemination and then sat in silence and let the idea set in that my mom didn't hate me for being different sink in. "You may want to wait a while before telling Tom though". My mom said. "You don't have to remind me" I answered. Tom is my very homophobic step-dad who has, in the past, made comments such as: "They should gather all the fags together, put them on an island, and blow it up." To say I was terrified of coming out to him was an understatement. After being home for a couple days, I came out to my younger brother, who, like my step-dad has made homophobic comments. My hands were actually shaking when I knocked on his door. I stepped inside and sat on his bed beside him. "I have something to tell you" I said. "Shoot" he responded. "I'm bisexual". "Oh. Cool I guess". "You're okay with that?" "Well yeah...I know I say some pretty mean stuff about gay people sometimes but you're you and I'll try not to say 'that's so gay' and stuff anymore if it makes you pissed or whatever" I swear I was so happy at that moment I could have jumped up and down screaming. My mom and my brother accepted me for who I was. It was probably one of the best moments of my life. My mom later told my step-dad about my being bi because I kept putting it off. Apparently, he reacted well, and he hasn't made any homophobic comments (at least in front of me) since he found out. We mostly just acknowledge each other's existence anyways so there was no big crack in our familial bond because of it. So it's 4:08am now and my roomie is still impersonating a truck that won't start. So to Glee it is! I will continue my story of coming out to friends at a later date. Have a good one!
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T-Girl
The one with estrogen. Bisexual, student, poet. Intrigued? Well good thing there's an entire blog for you to read then. Archives
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