| *sigh* |
[Dec. 5th, 2010|06:29 pm] |
Okay, my paper-writing non-progress has moved from 'late' over 'ridiculous', 'embarrassing', and 'pathetic' right into 'unspeakable' territory. So... let's just not speak about it, shall we?
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It's been raining on my beautiful snowy landscape all day, too, which is sad. Soggy snow is really only fun when you can have snowball fights with (and in) it, and since there's no one to have them with me... Well. (Roommate makes faces at me when I suggest it. *sigh*)
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My right wrist hurts like hell (I'm guessing over-worked sinew), which is inconvenient in more ways than I would previously have expected. Bleh.
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In other news, I came out to my (ex-)stepdad the other day. (Yes, the crazy, major homophobe one. No, I don't know what rode me, either.)
I had helped him skin some deer and we were eating fresh deer hearts (fried and salted, and nothing else -- delicious!) and drinking beer from bull horns (and you thought I was the weird one in my family -- ha!) and talking about our various plans. For some reason, I found myself talking about my current epic life angst (what to do after uni etc), which isn't something I'd normally discuss with my family, especially not the technically estranged parts of same. But stepdad is good at pulling these things out of you.
So, I mentioned how I don't want to move to the city, but can't think of a realistic chance to stay out here. (Or better yet, move somewhere with even more free space between me and, well, other people.) His response? Marry a guy with his own farm. My response to this nice bit of old-fashioned assholic chauvinistic bullshit was predictably violent disgust. He saw that less as feminist rage and more as a possible indication of lesbianism, apparently. (My fresh haircut and less then feminine it's-winter-and-I'm-hacking-at-dead-deer attire probably didn't help either.)
So he asked whether I'm a lesbian. And I said 'no', which, well, it's not a lie, as such. I got away with the same thing with mom just fine a few years ago. But then, she, er, isn't the brightest bulb in the lamp store, so... Well. Dad looked at me a little sideways, said "That's only half the truth, isn't it?" and so I told him that, yes, it's exactly half the truth, because I'm exactly halfway between lesbian and what he wanted to hear. Then I added all the yaddayadda about how sex/gender doesn't matter as much as character to me. Which isn't entirely true, either (me being the poster child of make-sex-not-relationships -- even though the sex is mostly just in my head *g*), but I'm definitely not discussing sexual desire with my dad. Just no.
Anyway, it went over a LOT better than expected. No rants on his part! (Damn, I used to dread those, as a kid. Because I knew he was cursing me out along with all those people on TV, even though he didn't know it.) (I think the new wife is a good influence on him, all things considered. He dresses better, he behaves better... I really hope their marriage holds.) He didn't even ask anything uncomfortable. Only whether roommate was my girlfriend, which was a reasonable assumption, but, really not. And then he told me he'd always be my dad and I hugged him and we talked more about hunting. *blinks* That was easy!
On the downside, stepdad's deeply schizophrenic. I have no idea how the, er, not-nice side will react to this, so for now I'm only glad it didn't take over immediately, and cross my fingers there won't be any nasty aftermath some other time.
Also, I have no idea what to do about mom. Because, technically, I'm a lot closer to her than to stepdad, so she's far more entitled to knowing this about me. Unfortunately, I really, really don't want to tell her. Which is paradoxical, because she is tolerant. -- With a vengeance even. No one's more tolerant than her! See how tolerant she is? She hugs her lesbian colleague! She admits that all gay men dress sooo well! -- I'm always careful not to make too obvious faces and/or vomiting noises. She really has this "positive discrimination" thing down incredibly well. It's painful.
And that's exactly why I don't want to tell her. Also, this woman has no respect for privacy as it is. She'd probably tell absolutely everyone she knows (and who doesn't necessarily know me, or give a fuck -- the entire neighbourhood knew about my first period in less than half an hour; I was so fucking angry), tell them all sorts of exaggerated non-facts about me and how supportive she is. Because things like this are all about her. Like my brother's ADHD+dyslexia. Or my other brother's (slight) overweight. The reason she'd be angry I didn't tell her about being bisexual years ago wouldn't be breach of trust, or anything, even though that's how she'd put it; it would be because I took the unique chance of being Supportive!Mom away from her.
Okay, that sounds a lot harsher than I mean it, because she really just means well, but... *sigh* I have absolutely zero need to discuss this with her, and I really don't need her to suspect all my friends of secretly being/having been my girlfriend, either. I just know she'll make a huge deal of my sexual orientation, when, to me, it's really not. I think that's why telling dad was easier. He accepts people. My bookishness and aversion to kids were unfortunate facts of life and couldn't be helped, and so is me being bi. It's part of me, and while he may not like it, he accepts it as just another trait of mine. To mom it'll be this huge, personality-defining issue. I'm a lesbian (she won't register the difference to bisexuality, let's bet on it -- within three phone calls to her friends I'll have morphed into a full-out lesbian and probably diesel dyke, too), so I must like lesbian things! Oversized flannel shirts for Christmas, yay! *rolls eyes*
But if I don't tell her, and she finds out I told stepdad (and bio-paternal grandma, years ago, but she can be trusted with secrets; and my friends, because they occasionally undress around me and thus, I felt, had to know), she'll be genuinely hurt, and she doesn't deserve that, just for being a little more ditzy and gossipy than I'm comfortable with.
But yeah, as coming-out drama goes, I know mine is pretty mild and I really shouldn't complain. |
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