Coming Out to My Parents and All That Entails

I apologize for posting this so late; it’s just that this weekend has been very busy for me. But anyway, here goes!

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Doesn't it feel great?


Er, correction: I came out to my mom, who then in turn told my dad. But either way my parents know now that I’m gay. And possibly transgender. But whatever.

So anyway, I was planning on writing them a letter, going away for the weekend, and then coming back and letting them come to terms with it and decide if they were going to let me back in the house. But, as as usual in my life, nothing that I ever plan ever ends up happening the way I want it to be, so…

That’s not how it worked. My mom found out about the fact that I spent the latter part of elementary school and most of middle school depressed and suicidal (to compare, I haven’t though about suicide since November 2009 or thereabouts) and confronted me about it. (To compare, the last time I thought of suicide was in my freshman year of high school; I’m almost done with my sophomore year now.)

She was convinced that it was all her fault for hiring an abusive babysitter and not taking me out of the school earlier and was then convinced that it was all her fault and that she should have done something sooner if she knew what it was doing to me. And then she started crying.

So then I told her: “Mom, I’m gay. And possibly transgender. Now can you get back to quizzing me on Spanish now?”

Not the most tactful way to do it, granted, but at least now she doesn’t think that it’s her fault that I was depressed.

Instead, she now thinks that 16 is too young to know if you’re gay (but it’s not too young to know if you’re straight), and is convinced that everyone in my old school, who called me every euphamism for “gay” that one can imagine and even more that are far too descriptive for me to write on this blog.

And now she wants me to start seeing a therapist to “sort out my feelings”. She’s also trying to find everything every stereotypically gay behavior and see how that applies to me. It’s hard for her to find those, though, because other than the fact that I like guys, there’s really nothing stereotypically “gay” about me.

And she’s given me the sex talk. Six times so far (I came out Thursday night and it’s now Sunday afternoon), and some of those times involved some of the most descriptive descriptions (original usage of adjectives, I know) of sex that I ever want to hear from my mother. I think she might actually have ruined sex for me. But at least she doesn’t have to worry about me getting some girl pregnant!

And my dad hasn’t really brought up the subject at all. In fact, he’s pretty much been ignoring me and talking to me as little as possible. So each conversation just keeps getting a little more awkward. But I guess it’s okay, since my mom seems to be talking enough for both of them.

So now I guess the next step is coming out to more friends and going to see my school’s psychologist and having a long and uncomfortable talk with him. Wish me luck!

Above image courtesy of Google Images.

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