My Christmas:
So apparently I lost weight? Not much - about two kilo but still. I wasn't actually planning on losing any, I'm perfectly happy with my weight. Like, maybe if some of the fat in my ass and thighs would be so kind as to migrate over to my boobs I would like that very much, even though I might lose being able to sleep on my stomach. Dilemma, dilemma.
Also found out that our traditional Christmas meal is actually REALLY traditional: apparently my mother's grandmother already made the same stuff. So I guess in the future my youngest sister will host all the Christmas dinners, or at least cook all the food since she and my father are the only ones other than my grandmother who know the recipe.
It was all pretty okay, actually! I managed to be downstairs with the rest of the family for most of one day without needing to flee the room and hole up in a corner somewhere, so. Progress, I guess. And my nephew is looking more and more like a preppy hockey player each time I see him (i.e. the Dutch stereotype of a field hockey player: popped collar, too-fancy dress shoes, too long slicked back hair).
Also there was stuff that made me scream. Stuff that I actually had to think about and write down so I could process my reaction to it and make sense of my feelings.
So I wrote this:
On Christmas Eve, after gettin teary-eyed at the All You Need Is Love Christmas special my brother turned to me and asked me why I got so emotional at watching the program and didn't make it want me a relationship of my own?
I shook my head, wondering why I always had to just keep coming out. I'd thought it a done deal. No one had ever mentioned to me that it was a process. That you have to keep doing it, that you have to keep validating your life to these people who profess just wanting the best for you and yet keep missing 'the best' by a mile.
'Oh,' my mother said brightly. 'She just hasn't found the right man yet.'
I wanted to muster up all the rage I knew I was supposed to feel at that. Wanted to scream at her that if I'd come out as lesbian she'd never have said something like that. Instead, all I felt was tired.
Also found out that our traditional Christmas meal is actually REALLY traditional: apparently my mother's grandmother already made the same stuff. So I guess in the future my youngest sister will host all the Christmas dinners, or at least cook all the food since she and my father are the only ones other than my grandmother who know the recipe.
It was all pretty okay, actually! I managed to be downstairs with the rest of the family for most of one day without needing to flee the room and hole up in a corner somewhere, so. Progress, I guess. And my nephew is looking more and more like a preppy hockey player each time I see him (i.e. the Dutch stereotype of a field hockey player: popped collar, too-fancy dress shoes, too long slicked back hair).
Also there was stuff that made me scream. Stuff that I actually had to think about and write down so I could process my reaction to it and make sense of my feelings.
So I wrote this:
On Christmas Eve, after gettin teary-eyed at the All You Need Is Love Christmas special my brother turned to me and asked me why I got so emotional at watching the program and didn't make it want me a relationship of my own?
I shook my head, wondering why I always had to just keep coming out. I'd thought it a done deal. No one had ever mentioned to me that it was a process. That you have to keep doing it, that you have to keep validating your life to these people who profess just wanting the best for you and yet keep missing 'the best' by a mile.
'Oh,' my mother said brightly. 'She just hasn't found the right man yet.'
I wanted to muster up all the rage I knew I was supposed to feel at that. Wanted to scream at her that if I'd come out as lesbian she'd never have said something like that. Instead, all I felt was tired.