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...
Showing posts with label grandparents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grandparents. Show all posts
Monday, April 19, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
News: I'm Weird
OK, now it's "out of the bag". Or the closet (?). The psychologist is finishing. He got a new job somewhere else (I know I'm not nosy enough to know where, and it kinda irritates me), and he's done by the end of April.
You know what? I'm kinda glad he's getting a new job. Because that means I don't need to be so "obsessed" thinking about when to stop having sessions with him. Still, I told him about the "I wanna leave"-thoughts, and he seemed somewhat worried. Yeah, my life is quite crappy sometimes, but I really don't need him to worry as well as me being afraid of what I'm capable of doing and whatnot.
Well, now right before he's quitting his job, we're sort of speed dating. Or if you ask me, that's the best thing to call it. Put in it whatever you want, but we're just seeing each other rather often right now (because I'm weird and have weird thoughts, and need to talk to somebody about my problems). So, yeah... Need to say no more.
Now (surprise, surprise!), I'm a very weird person today. And I use way too many parentheses in this post... And this is becoming more and more random.
Anyhow, I've been thinking about this with religion and stuff. This winter break, when my brother and I visited our grandparents in their cabin near Trysil, Grandpa said something. "You've already chosen what you believe in," he told me on the way to the airport. Oh, I have? And you're the one to decide so?
Maybe I get why he thinks as he does regarding homosexuality. In his mind your sexuality is something that can be changed (I'm not going to go further on this subject and include the bi's, transsexuals and other queers), and apparently he thinks you can just choose what you want to believe in. Is it so? Can you choose? I don't think you can. You might deny what you believe in, but I don't think you can choose if you got faith and can believe in God or not. Of course people might shift between religions; Religions is so much more than old books and gods. Still, that little thing regarding believing can't be changed. That's what I say.
And who chooses their religion or faith as brutal as he wants it to look like? Sometimes I just feel the situation with him is just hopeless. As if you believe your plant is this close being dead, even though you've done everything to keep it alive. It really irritates me that he thinks he knows everything about me, and that he can say he knows I've chosen when I don't even know it myself. Screw him. Though I bet you it's definitely not easy.
My grandfather is my plant. When am I going to learn that he can't be "saved" from his own hell. He's even decorated the whole thing! Yes, my grandfather is my plant. Or the weed around me. I bet the last.
You know what? I'm kinda glad he's getting a new job. Because that means I don't need to be so "obsessed" thinking about when to stop having sessions with him. Still, I told him about the "I wanna leave"-thoughts, and he seemed somewhat worried. Yeah, my life is quite crappy sometimes, but I really don't need him to worry as well as me being afraid of what I'm capable of doing and whatnot.
Well, now right before he's quitting his job, we're sort of speed dating. Or if you ask me, that's the best thing to call it. Put in it whatever you want, but we're just seeing each other rather often right now (because I'm weird and have weird thoughts, and need to talk to somebody about my problems). So, yeah... Need to say no more.
Now (surprise, surprise!), I'm a very weird person today. And I use way too many parentheses in this post... And this is becoming more and more random.
Anyhow, I've been thinking about this with religion and stuff. This winter break, when my brother and I visited our grandparents in their cabin near Trysil, Grandpa said something. "You've already chosen what you believe in," he told me on the way to the airport. Oh, I have? And you're the one to decide so?
Maybe I get why he thinks as he does regarding homosexuality. In his mind your sexuality is something that can be changed (I'm not going to go further on this subject and include the bi's, transsexuals and other queers), and apparently he thinks you can just choose what you want to believe in. Is it so? Can you choose? I don't think you can. You might deny what you believe in, but I don't think you can choose if you got faith and can believe in God or not. Of course people might shift between religions; Religions is so much more than old books and gods. Still, that little thing regarding believing can't be changed. That's what I say.
And who chooses their religion or faith as brutal as he wants it to look like? Sometimes I just feel the situation with him is just hopeless. As if you believe your plant is this close being dead, even though you've done everything to keep it alive. It really irritates me that he thinks he knows everything about me, and that he can say he knows I've chosen when I don't even know it myself. Screw him. Though I bet you it's definitely not easy.
My grandfather is my plant. When am I going to learn that he can't be "saved" from his own hell. He's even decorated the whole thing! Yes, my grandfather is my plant. Or the weed around me. I bet the last.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Waiting
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?
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.
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, November 15, 2009
Relaxing Techniques
Now, take a breath. Relax. Shoulders down, smile with both mouth and eyes. Don't talk too fast. And no hateful comments.
I think I might write this down on post-it's all over my room before Friday so I won't ever forget. Because relaxing methods are important when you're about to spend 72 hours with half of your family surrounded. Especially when you two weeks ago told your mother that you don't think your grandfather deserves your love and caring. At all.
This is a time I'm very glad I get to talk about my problems with a psych that doesn't know me. And when I think about that I have to spend the whole holidays with my grandfather and the rest of my mother's family, I just want to hide under a blanket and stay there. I just don't like them. They've poisoned my life.
Why they're so bad? Because they can't see nor understand that I'm not a Christian. Not so complicated, after all. Or, they do it complicated. Ruining it all. And no, I don't hold anything bad against Christianity. I know a lot of wonderful people that happen to believe in God and Jesus. And I respect my friends, whatever their beliefs, as well as they respect me. So why can't my family just respect me and love me for who I am?
I've asked myself that last question a lot of times. I can't find any good answer, though. So now I've ended up with a "whatever"-attitude. Whatever. I don't care whether they love and respect me or not anymore. But I do care about what they say to me and what they act like. If they act like idiots, I care. I get angry.
So now I'm angry. And confused. But that be. At least I have two great cousins. So I'm going to enjoy next weekend to the fullest with my loving, respecting and fantastic cousins, trying to not get too angry and bitchy around the rest of them.
Take a deep breath.
I think I might write this down on post-it's all over my room before Friday so I won't ever forget. Because relaxing methods are important when you're about to spend 72 hours with half of your family surrounded. Especially when you two weeks ago told your mother that you don't think your grandfather deserves your love and caring. At all.
This is a time I'm very glad I get to talk about my problems with a psych that doesn't know me. And when I think about that I have to spend the whole holidays with my grandfather and the rest of my mother's family, I just want to hide under a blanket and stay there. I just don't like them. They've poisoned my life.
Why they're so bad? Because they can't see nor understand that I'm not a Christian. Not so complicated, after all. Or, they do it complicated. Ruining it all. And no, I don't hold anything bad against Christianity. I know a lot of wonderful people that happen to believe in God and Jesus. And I respect my friends, whatever their beliefs, as well as they respect me. So why can't my family just respect me and love me for who I am?
I've asked myself that last question a lot of times. I can't find any good answer, though. So now I've ended up with a "whatever"-attitude. Whatever. I don't care whether they love and respect me or not anymore. But I do care about what they say to me and what they act like. If they act like idiots, I care. I get angry.
So now I'm angry. And confused. But that be. At least I have two great cousins. So I'm going to enjoy next weekend to the fullest with my loving, respecting and fantastic cousins, trying to not get too angry and bitchy around the rest of them.
Take a deep breath.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Yes, I Am Complaining
So yeah... My grandparents are here coming from the other side of the country because Mom left my brother and I three weeks ago for some conference and Dad and his wife went to Naxos, Greece this Friday. And I truly wish they didn't come.
I've said some words about my grandparents. They're quite right wings and (not so) mildly conservative, quite opposite of me, which has caused some problems concerning my relationship with them. That definitely sucks, but on the other hand, I can't get away from that I love discussions.
Even though, them being here with me the whole weekend has been challenging. I don't know what's up with them, but I suspect Grandma trying to make everything good again (from what they did when I was having my confirmation). And Grandpa is just acting as nothing's changed. My dreams...
Speaking honest: I know I can be quite harsh with people sometimes, but it's just because I want to challenge the way people look at each other and the rest of the world. I (usually) don't mean anything bad about it. But with my grandparents... I can't deny I'm still a bit mad at them. But if you ask me they haven't done anything trying to make everything good again, so I think I should be allowed to show my feelings for once.
The only thing I want is an apology. Which I probably will never get. And now they're making my weekend worse than it has to be. I don't appreciate it. If you don't like who I am, stay out of my life! I just want to be happy.
I'm angry at them. That's just how it is. Fin.
I've said some words about my grandparents. They're quite right wings and (not so) mildly conservative, quite opposite of me, which has caused some problems concerning my relationship with them. That definitely sucks, but on the other hand, I can't get away from that I love discussions.
Even though, them being here with me the whole weekend has been challenging. I don't know what's up with them, but I suspect Grandma trying to make everything good again (from what they did when I was having my confirmation). And Grandpa is just acting as nothing's changed. My dreams...
Speaking honest: I know I can be quite harsh with people sometimes, but it's just because I want to challenge the way people look at each other and the rest of the world. I (usually) don't mean anything bad about it. But with my grandparents... I can't deny I'm still a bit mad at them. But if you ask me they haven't done anything trying to make everything good again, so I think I should be allowed to show my feelings for once.
The only thing I want is an apology. Which I probably will never get. And now they're making my weekend worse than it has to be. I don't appreciate it. If you don't like who I am, stay out of my life! I just want to be happy.
I'm angry at them. That's just how it is. Fin.
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