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I'm a girl at 15 from Norway. This blog's just for complaining to the world and write about my life. Just so you know. Yeah, and I got some words of wisdom once and a while which may interest you. Enjoy!

Wednesday, December 23, 2009


This Christmas won't be as it used to be. For sure.

I wish I could run around the house singing "I'm Coming Out" with Diana Ross. I wish I could say "Damn, she's hot!" whenever I want. I wish I could talk about all the awesome people I've met at the gay youth club in the city. But I can't. Because my grandfather is a freaking priest!

This sucks. This Christmas sucks. I'm stuck with my conservative Christian family on the other side of the country, far away from my friends. Every day I have to think carefully through everything I'm to say, write or do. Even what I am to think. No matter what is happening, I have to keep myself from saying anything wrong.

I've never been to prison. My knowledge about being in prison is equal to zero. That's why I can't say that this is like prison, for sure. But I've got fantasy. And my fantasy tells me that prison is like being trapped, both physically and mentally. Claustrophobic, and no way to escape, no matter how much you try. It's just to wait until it's all over. If that is how prison is, I feel like I'm in prison right now. And it sucks. But all I can do is to wait for it to go over.

Someday it's all over, right? That little hope for it to end some day, that's what's keeping me up. But for how long?

Monday, December 21, 2009

Christmas News Letter

Tomorrow is December 22nd. Which means that (if everything goes as planned) I'll be at my grandparents within 24 hours. And because I for some reason am scared to death, I now can't sleep. Not so "yaygay"...

I've been thinking about this Christmas and what I think will happen for way too long now. To be honest, I really don't want to sit in my mother's car tomorrow for a whole day thinking about Christmas and my family (and the combination of those). Believe it or not, but I think sitting in front of a web cam on the other side of the globe saying "Hi!" through Skype would be more pleasant than this. Of course, I can't predict the future. Maybe there won't be any conflicts between me and everyone else. Still, my head will be too close exploding.

The thing I'm most scared of is that I'll accidentally say something I should've kept for myself. "What if they ever find out?" is a thought I'm almost too scared to think. Still, almost every day I feel a want to just scream it out loud to everyone. Release the pressure on my shoulders to be as stereotypical straight as possible, so I won't ruin both my parents' and my life because I'm not acting "normal". Today I've given up being normal, because I know it isn't possible, but I still feel I do something wrong every single day I don't wear make-up. And when I stare too long at a hot girl on the street and am about to say "Damn, she's hot!", I break off a piece of my heart.

Grandpa has it as a tradition to write a Christmas news letter every Christmas. Then he puts a lot of focus on his grandchildren, also known as my cousins, my brother and I. This year's letter was just e-mailed from him to me; A one-page, nicely done letter where he's made a short summary of this year, now only with two and a half weeks left. And it hurts. Of course he had to mention my confirmation. Did he last year? No. But he did this year. Nothing big or anything, but just the fact that he even mentioned it hurts. He shouldn't have been a part of it. It just hurts, no matter how weird it sounds.

If I come out this Christmas... Will he mention it? If I marry a woman one day, before he passes away, will he mention it? "This summer Sunniva and 'Katelyn' had a wonderful wedding at the beach in sunny California." Really realistic, girl...

He'll abandon me. Just as my grandmother, my father, my mother (because of my grandparents (or she'll be abandoned with me)), and a bunch of my friends. No, I can't predict the future. But being afraid of your own family and your family's plausible actions is really not good.

I'm sorry this is so long, negative and over-sharing. And I totally have to bring this to the psych. Whatever. I need strengthen right now, through sleep. Lack of sleep makes the best of us a bit sad, or what? I don't know.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Acting 'Till Death Brings You Home

Now, it's soon to be Christmas. And I've been blogging for a freakin' whole year! A horrible year filled with negative thoughts. But I think it's getting better. We'll see.

Anyway, now it's soon to be Christmas. I'm kind of in the spirit now. But what is Christmas really about? Christmas is about love, joy, traditions, happiness and family. And peace. Do I feel it? Nope.

I'm driving across the country two days before Christmas Eve to celebrate with family I'm not sure I love. This Christmas will be spent with an inner tension, and I'll have to try to control myself from saying anything wrong. I'll try to be on the good path with them, control my anger and my feelings, be "me". And hopefully I'll be able to.

It's a scary thought that I have to be even more "perfect" now in the Christmas time than usual. Living on a lie all the time sucks. I want to be me. But I can't pull it through. Because I'm not going to risk my home, family and life situation to be me. Or at least not yet. That's too much to take in one handing, because I'll have to add my life where I'm myself (which is not that enjoyable all the time) in addition to the totally new situation between my family and I.

Acting can be fun. But not all the time, where the acting is your whole life. I wish I could be the real me, where I don't have to act to be like others want me to be. But acting is a survival action - survival of the fittest. So when you're not the strongest, you have to act that you are.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Trust Issues

After going to the psych a couple of times, I had to tell my main teacher about it. The first two times I was lucky enough to get appointments at days where I was to leave school earlier than normal because of tests and so, but you can't live on that. So I had to tell her that I had leave class earlier than usual because I had an appointment at the psych.

When I told her, she was like: "Are you OK?" I assured her I was, and then she asked why I was seeing a psych. "It's personal," was my comment. Because it is. And no, I'm not going to tell an irritating teacher in her fifties who is way too into the motherhood thing why I'm talking to the psych. No way.

But then I wrote this text (which I've posted earlier here) for my semester final in English. Because we have a pretty cool English teacher, who I don't really mind knowing. And no, I didn't cross fingers and toes wishing she wouldn't let the other teachers read it, because I don't really care. I would actually like it if she ever let my former English teacher read some of my texts (at least the good ones), because if she's impressed, she's really impressed. But my main teacher? Who don't even teach English...

And I didn't know that before today. Because when I, in Social where she's my teacher, said not everyone thinks writing about their feelings is easy, and that I possibly could be in that group, she was just like, "Oh, I know you can. I've read some of your texts, you see."

When that happens to others I would totally say "Burn..." And that was (clearly) a major burn. So now I know... My teachers are crazy. Or annoying. Both. But now I've definitely learned something new about some of them.

What's the purpose of reading a student's writing when you're not near grading it? She doesn't even teach English! And no, I don't care whether she's my main teacher or not; She's got nothing to do reading it!

Today's mix: Trust issues and anger problems. I bet she's psychoanalyzing me in her sparetime. Yay...!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Feminine Enough

Am I feminine enough? Clearly my mother doesn't think so. In the car yesterday, she started talking about me and my closet. She wants me to dress up in a pink dress every single day, and care about heels. I like pink (as long as it's not overly sweet and candyish), and I, believe it or not, do wear clothes of the color sometimes. Not every single day, but often enough. And heels... I care! Girls in heels are sexy. But it's not necessary to put my feet in some.

I quote, "You should dress more feminine. It's not that you don't have money, right? Because then it's just to ask. But you could definitely take advantage of some heels and a nice dress." Can I call her in for Child Services? Maybe not, but who says something like that to their child?

Seriously, she didn't mind before. And trust me, I haven't changed into a big butch last half a year. No, I've just been me. As honest as I can let myself around my friends and family. But no, I haven't dressed as a pinup lately (or ever). Still, I'm not that butch. I'm actually quite femme. So why does she at a sudden care?

And what's really the problem not being super-feminine? It's not like Armageddon will come right away if I don't wear my white dress with pink polka dots for school tomorrow. Or, maybe... I think we got a new conspiracy made!

I am who I want to be. Feminine as hell, under-the-hat butch, or androgynous as the moon.