There's Blood In My Mouth 'Cause I've Been Biting My Tongue

My parents know this: I came out on January 3, 2009.
My parents do not know this: I was scared, but I was not sorry. I waited a long fucking time after I was ready to come out to actually come out. While I was waiting, I did everything I could to prepare myself for the process. This ranged from pamphlets and other forms of literature to talking to friends about their own experiences and watching every damn Logo special on it. Also watching and memorizing that episode of The L Word where Bette tells her dad that God made her just as she was (I'm not sorry to say that I paraphrased her in my coming out conversation). I was ready for any argument they had to throw at me.

They don't know that it was the most empowering night of my life because it was at that moment that I realized that, with or without their approval, I was finally completely and totally unashamed and unapologetic about who I was. And I was happy. I was living it like I wanted. And I had a support system. And the sky was clearer than I had ever seen it, and it told me to just drive.

Six months later, after not mentioning it at all since that one Really Bad Conversation that finally caused me to run away to Rachel's house, a dinner table confrontation occurred.

It was pretty much the same old patronizing/denial deal about how they don't think I'm really gay because you can't know if you're gay if you've never tried not being gay and also if you're gay you can't have weddings or have children because you're gaygaygaygaygay.

In addition to this, my mother (oh also, my dad, while he doesn't approve of my "choices" or "lifestyle" is very rational and has promised to love me no matter what, should I eventually come to the conclusion that I am, in fact, gay) lamented over the fact that she had no idea how I, being raised in her household, could possibly have taken on such a set of values that allowed me to be like this. To be accepting and open and happy with who I am (I asked this)? She claimed that she was not prejudiced. I said it was okay if she was because everyone has their own prejudices and both my parents happen to come from an extremely conservative Catholic country, and whatever, that kind of wack shit happens there anyway. And then she finally admitted that no, she does not hate gay people, BUT she has worked hard and sacrificed so much so that she could one day see me get married and have kids.

1. WHAT.
2. Gay peeps are on the way to doing that now, don't'chaknow?
3. WHAT.
4. Listen. I'm sorry. But even if I were straight, being someone's Wife and having their kids would never ever be the measure of my success in life. It's just never been my dream. And I don't really appreciate my mother basing my value on whether or not I can attain this goal that I don't even want to pursue. I respect anyone who really, truly wants this, I do. But fact of the matter is that I don't. We've all got our own aspirations, and this just isn't one of them for me. Never has been. That's that.

They also said I couldn't possibly be happy like this, and that I was being way too closed-minded about the whole situation. As if it had never occurred to me to date men. Well yeah, I had never though of that, thanks for the suggestion, brb, being straight now! But no, really. I can pretty confidently say that I am one of the most sexually open-minded people I know to accept the label "lesbian." I'm not going to go into details about this, but you can ask Rachel because she gets all the phonecalls in the aftermath. Also claiming that I am not happy is just ludicrous. Because fuck, I am happy. I am like lay-spread-out-on-the-floor-and-stare-up-at-the-ceiling-and-just-sigh-because-I'm-so-happy happy. I said it before. I'm living it like I wanted.

But wait, there's more!
You see, I'm aspiring to be a professional gay, and I happen to be having the most mindblowing interning experience at a website that's allowing me to pursue this (I'd drop the name here, but I feel like this is kind of a negative context, so I'll sit and think about that, plus I've probably talked about it a shit ton to anyone who's reading anyway). Like fucking wow. Never before have I had the honor of being around such confident, intelligent, witty, (and coughsuperattractivecough) and self-assured queer women who are out simply unapologetic about their sexuality. It's what I've been working to be, even before I ever realized I was doing it.

My parents wanted to know why I insisted on living this lifestyle and told me that it was a choice. And yeah, sure, being out is a choice. But it's a choice to be honest and happy and just plain satisfied with my life. And in that sense, it's not really a choice at all.

The reason that one of my great goals in life is to create visibility for queer women is because shit like this, shit that happens with my parents, happens all the time for girls who are coming out. And they shouldn't have to feel ashamed about it. And they should have role models. And they shouldn't be afraid or feel alone, even if they can only get that reassurance through the Interwebz (I'm also a big believer in this).

ANYWAY.
This was supposed to be a big gay weekend for me. My Montreal buddy, Emily, is coming down tomorrow for Pride festivities, and the whole intern team is going to spend a big gay weekend together etc etc. Clearly my parents aren't going for this.

The plan is that, in about an hour (when we're both all tired and honest), I'm going to go talk to my dad and basically ask him permission to peace the fuck out this weekend. If it's a no, then I'm doing it on my own, runaway urban backpacking style. My life's been so fucking ridiculous lately. These past 6 months have proved not only that I am strong enough, but that I am just plain lucky enough to dodge and bob and weave through all the tight situations that I've encountered (this is saying A LOT).

This weekend is going to be a most excellent adventure, and goddamn, I can't wait.