Tumblr is being a bag of cocks, but fear not, this will not keep me from sending my message!
Putting this behind a cut so no one has to have my wall of text on their dash.
Ok, first of all ‘bag of cocks’ had me laughing. What an image. Second, I’m ridiculously sorry about my ask; I don’t know what’s come over it. Maybe it just couldn’t hold its alcohol, or something. Thank you for taking the chance and posting this publicly for me to see.
I’ve read this three times. I’m amazed. And floored. And other adjectives and adverbs that essentially amount to me being embarrassed and humbled and shocked.
Because I never thought I’d have this kind of impact. I always wished for someone like you describe here when I was growing up. I didn’t have anyone I could really relate to until I hit college. The internet wasn’t around and being gay wasn’t cool; it was a life-threatening reality.
I can’t believe you think I’m that person.
I have a close lesbian friend who grew up in Virginia and, while that’s not even considered deep South, she’s told me horror stories. It wasn’t easy where I’m from, but just traveling southward or westward, I’ve come across my fair share of intense hatred and prejudice. I just don’t understand how people can hold so tightly to so much hate. It must be incredibly painful to be so bitter all the goddamn time.
On that front, all I can really say is get the hell out as fast as you can. It’s not easy. I won’t say ‘it gets better’ because you’re obviously suffering now. And for that, I’m sorry. There are parts of this country (and the world) that are stuck in some sadistic Dark Age. I don’t get it; we’re all human. They give lip service to the phrase ‘love makes the world go ‘round’. And yet. Who we love somehow defines us. Makes us more and makes us less. As though who I kiss is the culmination of all that I am.
I am so happy that I can offer you a positive perspective. I can tell you with honesty that there are places where it doesn’t matter who you love. Where you don’t have to be afraid. (And I can give you specific locations if you actually want them). They’re too few, in my opinion, but they’re a start. And winning New York last month, while it won’t silence all the anger-driven assholes, is a major achievement that’s long overdue.
If there’s anything else I can give you to help, just let me know. I’m honoured to be of service. :)
As far as my coming out…I wish I could say I did it with confidence and finesse, but in actuality, I was found out. I kissed a boy at school in the ninth grade and a teacher saw me. A phone call later, and my life was a living hell.
My father was confused, but somehow ok. My mother still isn’t ok with it. Her way of coping was to introduce my first boyfriend to her friends as my brother. A few holidays in a row, we got matching sweaters. How fucked up is that?
Everyone’s family deals differently. I wish there was a standardized guide to this shit. My only advice to you would be—don’t do it until you are safely somewhere else that they don’t directly affect you. Like living on your own (I have no idea how old you are, I’m sorry for the assumption). Where you aren’t dependent on them so if the worst case scenario does occur, it doesn’t completely fuck up your life.
On the other hand, if you think they’d understand, it’s always worth a shot. I know some bisexual friends whose parents find their comfort in the fact that they’re still attracted to the opposite gender. (Because life is only worth living if we procreate…yeesh). You know your family best. Just please, be careful.
Thank you so much for your kind words. I hope I can continue to offer you a safe place to be yourself. :)