Photo of the author in July 1977 .
Coming out in 1977, at the age of 14 in the small town of Loveland, Ohio, I discovered small towns can be small minded and mean. I would, within three months of my already rough road being what I had been assured would be smoother once I applied a layer of honesty and truth, I would experience a break as my way became tougher than I ever imagined, when I was…
People who identify as LGBTQIA+ don’t really play ourselves growing up. Instead, we act out personas that fit some sort of mold of who we wish we were or what kind of version of ourselves is the most pleasing to others. This is why visability and respect towards others is so important.
me, a genderfluid lesbian: *does stereotypically gay things* *dresses in a stereotypically gay way* *has obnoxiously bright green hair* *wears like 10 rings at once and homemade jewelery* *has lesbian flags all over my room/stuff* *listens to girl in red and hayley kiyoko* *always holding back gay jokes*
my mom: wow look at this wonderful heterosexual child of mine. she will marry a handsome, masculine man who is very much not a girl, she will date so many boys and nothing else. *teases me about liking boys* *asks me who all the cute B O Y S are at the start of every new school year*
me: *comes out to my mom*
my wonderful, super observant, dear old mother who knows me so well: i know :)
I think one thing that our cishet parents seem to not understand is that growing up gay is a different experience than growing up straight. when my mum tells me she's been a teenager and that she knows how I feel, I want her to know that she doesn’t. she doesn't know what internalised homophobia feels like, as it’s eating away at you, she doesn’t know what it’s like to be scared to hold your partners hand, she doesn’t know the feeling of wiping your makeup and putting away all your rainbow things on the way home from pride. she doesn't know the feeling of knowing that one day your family won't love you the same way because of something you can’t control. she doesn’t understand the struggle of being queer. so while I can see she’s just trying to help, what she doesn't seem to work out is that her teenage years are wildly different from mine.
Yoooo I just remembered a conversation that occurred between me and my mother and that’s how it went:
Me: can we get a dog?
Her: no when you have a husband and a house of your own you can get whatever you want. (Which is stupid because I can have a house of my own without having to get married)
Me: ew I am never gonna marry any man.
Sooo yeah my mother pretty much knows that I am gay and she’s playing it dumb.
I was eating dinner (a slice of bread with cheese and a pepperoni on it) with my family and we were having a conversation. My sis randomly ask who the black sheep of the family was (not that weird of a question). My mom said,”There is no black sheep of the family🙄.” BUT then my sister says, “but there is a rainbow one🌈.” A RAINBOW ONE!!! They all realized it there was a rainbow sheep, they would all know. All of them turn to me immediately. This was my face (by they way I’m already out):