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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!

Monday, April 19, 2010

"Mom...? We Need To Talk."

OK, now it's finally coming. I'm considering telling my mother I'm gay.

To be honest, I never thought I'd say so. Or at least not yet. I'm a freakin' 15! I know one soul doing so before that age. Seriously?

Because I am really thinking about it — to come out to her. When my grandparents were in town for my brother's birthday a week ago, I listened to a conversation between my mother and grandfather. He's writing on (another) book, this time a "real" novel for adults. Filled with (way too much) sex, God, Christianity, condemnation, and homosexuality. Or the condemnation of gays. What a shocking move from him...

What actually is a little shocking to me is that my mother actually pointed out that, and of a sudden they two were discussing homosexuality for over an hour. Pure entertainment that should've been promoted in Big Brother, but that's so. Still, my mother argued pro homosexuals! Wow... That kind of made me speechless. Not that I can't see her as an ally (because I can, though I know a thing or two about her in advance nevertheless), but I've never really listened to her saying stuff like that. Weird, I'm totally aware.

So... This event has been what's made me to think about actually come out to her. The psychologist (I'm trying not to be "anti adults", which means actually listening to him (he really deserves it)) told me to try to establish an OK relationship with my parents, and then especially with my mother. Because I'm way too good at stripping down my emotions and be plastic (not popular bitch in high school plastic). So I'm supposed to allow them to get to know me, at least a little.

"Mom, I've been going to a psychologist the last half a year. And I'm gay. Now, I've accomplished to let you get to know me. I'm awesome." That's something that could easily come out of my mouth. If I decide to tell her. Chances? Am I a bitch if I say that I'll do it to take advantage of the stereotypes so she'll let me go to New York City Pride this summer?

We all wish things were easier than they are. My dream? That when I popped out of my mother's vagina at the age of zero, you could see a mark in my forehead saying "queer". But that didn't happen, and now I'll have to learn how to deal with that. Take the risk of coming out. It's not like she'll kick me out or anything. Or...

If I, hypothetically, come out to her tomorrow, should I go for a girly blouse or take the butch out in the open? Just asking...

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