It's walls of your skin, tissue thin
I'm still not entirely up to date on this entire Day of Silence thing, but I know that it generally is a good thing. So I thought I'd talk a little bit about my own experiences about this.
When I grew up there was really no such thing as bi- or homosexuality. It was something alien, possibly even dangerous, and definitely kind of gross. In every little love story I've ever written (and I've written a ton) there was always the pretty girl ending up with the hot boy. I watched Disney movies and thought that was the way things were supposed to be -- the pretty princess and the charming prince riding off into the sunset together.
I was in junior high -- 8th grade, I'm pretty sure -- when other sexualities became something tangible to me. My best friend back then -- C, you've heard of her -- decided that she was a bisexual, and as the years went on, she wasn't the only one. Being a girl and bi was a trend up in the frigid north as much as it is in other places. I thought this was very interesting, but also a little scary. I didn't know what to do with it -- but then, I had barely gotten to the point where I even thought about being in a relationship/having sex with a boy let alone anything else.
I'm an idealist, I hate it when my grandparents and to a slightly lesser extent my parents slag on other people based on their sexuality or race. People have told me ever since I was 14 and figured out what it meant that my parents and grandparents "can't help" the views they have, because they're "from another generation".
I was fifteen when I first got the impulse to kiss another girl. I just chalked it down to normal teenage hormones and tried to push it from my mind. I was mostly successful. But things started piling up -- impulses and feelings that I had that I couldn't explain away.
It wasn't until a year ago that I started to think about it seriously, and my first reaction was simple -- fear. I was extremely worried; what if I was a lesbian, what if I wasn't anything at all, what if my mother would hate me, what would my grandparents say, what would the people in the village say? I stewed in my own angst for about six months or so until I finally realized, only nine months ago, that yes, I am bisexual, queer, and it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. And in a way, it was like when I was eighteen and fell in love with a boy for the first time and then cut my hair (it reached down to my waist, I had barely touched it since I was twelve and it was a hugely symbolic thing to walk out of that salon with eight inches off my head), a weight lifted off my shoulders. I grew another inch that day.
I'm still afraid of my family. My sister reacted favourably -- she basically said that I was still her sister and she loves me regardless. My BFF sent me a huge hug in letter form and said the same thing. And my internet friends? Hell, half of you are queer in one way or the other, I'm in good company. This is my safe place.
But my former best friend? The self proclaimed bisexual? Reacted like I had stung her. My mother? Told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't and that we weren't going to speak about it anymore. The rest of my family doesn't know, I don't think. I have no idea what my father thinks, or if my brothers know at all about me. I'm dreading the day my grandmother finds out, if she ever does.
But I've come to a conclusion: I am who I am, regardless, what they think can't change me, even though it hurts. My sister and my friends, both IRL and online, treat me like they always have. The fact that I'm bi doesn't even factor -- well, one of them, Lina, does try to fix me up with a mutual friend of ours, which is pretty funny, but nevermind. My mother and I don't talk about it, true to her word, but our relationship is exactly the same as ever and the way she looks at me sometimes, I know that she remembers my announcement and thinks about it sometimes. I manage.
Also the fact that I moved some 650 miles away and into bigger cities where nobody gives a shit may have helped somewhat.
Oh, and some rememberances.
I remember when I first read about slash fanfic and I laughed for five minutes straight because it was such a ridiculous, outlandish concept. I remember falling so hard for it, just a couple of ficlets in.
I remember crying as I wrote a long, panicky letter to my BFF where I told her about how afraid I was of being queer and how I would prefer to be asexual rather than that, because of my family. I remember how I almost had a panic attack when I wrote a similar quick, desperate letter to my sister.
I remember feeling quiet assertion that my mother would be okay with my choices. I remember being scared and numb when she wasn't.
I remember the anger that came later. And I remember how I never confronted her, but ranted at my sister instead.
I remember having my first celebrity crush on a girl and trying to convince myself it wasn't about that. I remember watching that movie again and again and wishing she'd turned out to be a lesbian in the end after all.
I remember writing story upon story when I was younger about various pretty girls with almond shaped eyes and wild hair and long legs, and their boyfriends that looked somethinglikethatyeah.
I remember speaking at lenght with my LJ friends just after I came out to my friends about how confusing everything was. I remember how clear it all became after.
I remember how much started making sense.
When I grew up there was really no such thing as bi- or homosexuality. It was something alien, possibly even dangerous, and definitely kind of gross. In every little love story I've ever written (and I've written a ton) there was always the pretty girl ending up with the hot boy. I watched Disney movies and thought that was the way things were supposed to be -- the pretty princess and the charming prince riding off into the sunset together.
I was in junior high -- 8th grade, I'm pretty sure -- when other sexualities became something tangible to me. My best friend back then -- C, you've heard of her -- decided that she was a bisexual, and as the years went on, she wasn't the only one. Being a girl and bi was a trend up in the frigid north as much as it is in other places. I thought this was very interesting, but also a little scary. I didn't know what to do with it -- but then, I had barely gotten to the point where I even thought about being in a relationship/having sex with a boy let alone anything else.
I'm an idealist, I hate it when my grandparents and to a slightly lesser extent my parents slag on other people based on their sexuality or race. People have told me ever since I was 14 and figured out what it meant that my parents and grandparents "can't help" the views they have, because they're "from another generation".
I was fifteen when I first got the impulse to kiss another girl. I just chalked it down to normal teenage hormones and tried to push it from my mind. I was mostly successful. But things started piling up -- impulses and feelings that I had that I couldn't explain away.
It wasn't until a year ago that I started to think about it seriously, and my first reaction was simple -- fear. I was extremely worried; what if I was a lesbian, what if I wasn't anything at all, what if my mother would hate me, what would my grandparents say, what would the people in the village say? I stewed in my own angst for about six months or so until I finally realized, only nine months ago, that yes, I am bisexual, queer, and it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. And in a way, it was like when I was eighteen and fell in love with a boy for the first time and then cut my hair (it reached down to my waist, I had barely touched it since I was twelve and it was a hugely symbolic thing to walk out of that salon with eight inches off my head), a weight lifted off my shoulders. I grew another inch that day.
I'm still afraid of my family. My sister reacted favourably -- she basically said that I was still her sister and she loves me regardless. My BFF sent me a huge hug in letter form and said the same thing. And my internet friends? Hell, half of you are queer in one way or the other, I'm in good company. This is my safe place.
But my former best friend? The self proclaimed bisexual? Reacted like I had stung her. My mother? Told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't and that we weren't going to speak about it anymore. The rest of my family doesn't know, I don't think. I have no idea what my father thinks, or if my brothers know at all about me. I'm dreading the day my grandmother finds out, if she ever does.
But I've come to a conclusion: I am who I am, regardless, what they think can't change me, even though it hurts. My sister and my friends, both IRL and online, treat me like they always have. The fact that I'm bi doesn't even factor -- well, one of them, Lina, does try to fix me up with a mutual friend of ours, which is pretty funny, but nevermind. My mother and I don't talk about it, true to her word, but our relationship is exactly the same as ever and the way she looks at me sometimes, I know that she remembers my announcement and thinks about it sometimes. I manage.
Also the fact that I moved some 650 miles away and into bigger cities where nobody gives a shit may have helped somewhat.
Oh, and some rememberances.
I remember when I first read about slash fanfic and I laughed for five minutes straight because it was such a ridiculous, outlandish concept. I remember falling so hard for it, just a couple of ficlets in.
I remember crying as I wrote a long, panicky letter to my BFF where I told her about how afraid I was of being queer and how I would prefer to be asexual rather than that, because of my family. I remember how I almost had a panic attack when I wrote a similar quick, desperate letter to my sister.
I remember feeling quiet assertion that my mother would be okay with my choices. I remember being scared and numb when she wasn't.
I remember the anger that came later. And I remember how I never confronted her, but ranted at my sister instead.
I remember having my first celebrity crush on a girl and trying to convince myself it wasn't about that. I remember watching that movie again and again and wishing she'd turned out to be a lesbian in the end after all.
I remember writing story upon story when I was younger about various pretty girls with almond shaped eyes and wild hair and long legs, and their boyfriends that looked somethinglikethatyeah.
I remember speaking at lenght with my LJ friends just after I came out to my friends about how confusing everything was. I remember how clear it all became after.
I remember how much started making sense.