October 20, 2011 § 12 Comments
So on Sunday we went to my Aunt’s. Now my mom usually does the thanksgiving thing, but had no desire to this year, so my grandma was going to. Then she put her back out. So to my Aunt. Now, I know I am supposed to love my whole family. I have been told I love my Aunt Crystal. I do not. She is an utter and absolute total bitch. She “suffers” from depression. Now I put that in quotes, because it seems to me she rather enjoys her depression while everyone else suffers from her depression. See, her depression is a brutal disease where she can say anything she wants sans consequences. She is just being “honest” and everyone gets the benefit of her honesty. The whole world gets to here her opinions and CANNOT be offended because she is “Ill”. BUT god fucking forbid you have an opinion of HER that she disagrees with. Then you are being a major asshole and driving her into the dreaded relapse.
While she gets to wax on about her ideas about homosexuality being too socially acceptable and biracial mixing just being wrong you have to ignore. The entire family plays this game. Auntie Crystal is “delicate”. No, she is a bitch! And her main whipping boy tends to be my mom. Probably because the younger brother long ago stopped giving anything she said credence at all, so to save her feeling she bullies the one who will not fight back. My mom is a peace keeper. Always has been. She keeps the peace in her and dad’s family too. But some times you want to just say FUCK mom tell her to shut the fuck up already.
Okay, So it happened. Now before you think it, I have hugely backed off him. This is not my fault, not really anyway. Yes, he went down to his parents’ house for the long weekend and come Sunday he just told them. It did not go well. Surprisingly enough C is quite settled about the whole thing. But I feel somewhat guilty. On the other hand I also feel relieved and like he now has something more invested. Does that make me a total dick? Probably, but who wants to be with someone who can’t be happy to be with you and never goes anywhere “straight” with you because god forbid it get back to the parental units what, or who he’s doing over here in the big bad city. C never exactly told me everything that happened or was said, but his parents are no longer speaking to him. Is it wrong that I think he should be relieved rather than upset? I know easy to say when it is not your family… but still I don’t get it. On the plus side he seems much more relaxed than I would be. He says because he knew exactly what was going to happen when he told them. Part of me is kind of afraid that he may start to resent me if this the end of his relationship with his parents, but he says it won’t happen, and that in the end he knew what it would come down to.
Oops, I thought I published this a week ago. My bad. Sorry for the delay.
August 20, 2011 § 8 Comments
A friend wrote about baby steps. I cheer her on every step of the way. I wonder why no one can appreciate how far she has come in her baby steps.
Then I get impatient with C, and it takes me taking a step back and realize that he is on his own journey, and taking baby steps, while I am wanting him to run. Who the fuck am I to have such high expectations? Who the fuck am I to have any expectations at all? C had his life all nice and easy, then I come in, and in my high handed way expect everything to change. Like I am such a prize.
C is not like me, shocker I know. He’s quite quiet. His old friends go into two categories. Old drinking buddies, or older friends from church growing up. Granted the latter category are very minimal. The old drinking buddies he has are always disappointed that he no longer drinks. That leaves his one friend, who was YES an old drinking buddy, but also taught C everything he knows about tattooing and has done all his work. So last night he was getting his leg piece finished up, and his buddy comments on the new apartment. The clincher is Nelson. C is not a cat person. Not really an animal person at all.
He asked about the “girl” he was seeing. C told him about me. Baby steps. Yes, he’s “seeing someone” named Jamie. Oh, my, such honesty. Sure, I guess it is not C’s fault that his friend assumed Jamie was a girl. But he sure as fuck did not correct him. So? What right do I really have to be pissed off? None. But it doesn’t stop me from being pissed off. Before he just didn’t tell people about me. That is better than lying about me.
Baby steps. I want to believe he had every intention of telling his friend about me, but then took the expedient escape hatch provided when the friend figured Jamie was of the female persuasion. Except for the fact that he had to know that was going to happen. Unless someone knows you’re gay the assumption is straight. And unless the subject of who you are seeing ends with a name I have to assume that a few feminine pronouns enforced the assumed sex of Jamie.
In the future I must be careful what I wish for. I wished for him to at least tell people I existed. Well, I got that, just not the way I wanted it. The poor stupid bastard still hasn’t figured out WHY I am mad. Fucktard. Well, he hasn’t admitted to knowing why I am mad anyway. I refuse to believe he is really stupid enough not to have picked up on the why.
May 25, 2010 § 14 Comments
Well, I had decided ot come out. Now I have literally heard dozens of stories of coming out. The sad, the violent, the hopeful, even the funny. Mine was none of the above.
I practiced all day… My mom called me off sick when she saw my pale face that morning and banished me to my room for a rest. She firmly believes that sleep cures all ills. So, I cowardly took the day ot practice what I would say, and thought of all the senarios I have heard about on the internet happening. I even had a ridiculous version of being punched in the face by my dad, though in my entire life I have never even been yelled at by either of my parents. It left me a nervous wreck.
I waited until after my little brother was in bed and went into the living room where Dad was channel surfing and Mom reading a book. “Uh, can I talk to you for a second?”
My parents never said no to a talk. Instantly the tv was muted and Mom turned her book down ot keep her page. Two sets of eyes waiting patiently, and Mom noticed my nervousness. “Oh, God, Jamie, you aren’t failing math again, are you?” My mother, the mathematicla genius has never understood my inability with numbers. I spent months of each year being tutored by her at the diningroom table.
I bit my lip, almost opting for the easy out. “Well, yeah, but that is not what I need ot talk to you about,” I admitting, and I saw my mom lock her hand on my dad’s arm, suddenly scared of something that would make flunking math not important. “Well, the thing is… I just…” I realized I was scaring the shit out of both of them. “I think I am gay.”
My mom sagged against the cushions. “Jesus Christ, Jamie, don’t scare me like that again. I thought you were going ot tell me you knocked up some girl or something.” she put a hand to her chest. “What is this, give your mother a heart attack day?”
I didn;t think she was taking me seriously. “Mom, I’m serious. I’m gay.”
My dad gave me a thoughtful look. “Did something happen to make you think this, James?” he asked. Oh, god, did he think I was going around molesting boys?
My voice small I shoved my hands in my pockets. “No, I just know what I am, and um, am not attracted to.”
“So there were no actions leading up to this discovery,” I realized then my dad had been worried that I had been touched by some pervert who made me question my sexuality. I shook my head. The he relaxed. “O-kay. So, what now? Do you have a boyfriend or something?”
“No,” I denied. Then I shrugged. “But there is a boy I like… he is into guys…”
Mom rolled her eyes. “And so the teenage dating whirlwind begins,” she held her arms up for me to give her a hug, holding on a little longer than she usually did. “Just remember, when I hate your boyfriends it is not because they are boys, it’s because no one will ever be good enough for you.”
My dad came down to my room later and told me he was proud that I believed in them enough to tell them and handed me several boxes of condoms and made me promise to always use a condom, and never the freebees at clinics or cheap ones. That when I ran out ot let him know, and he would buy me more. It is an arrangement we still have, yeah, even at 19 I go to dad for condoms.
So that was it. As promised. Not sad, violent or hopeful, or even funny. Uneventful. Only in my house can you come out of the closet and people act as if you were saying you preferred blue t-shirts to black. I am sure one day when I share this story with other gay males who have gone through this they will tell me how lucky I was. How blessed with understanding. To me… I will always have the most boring coming out story ever.