BAM!

I woke up this morning with a blinding headache and that was all I could feel.  Everything else was numb to me, and I was worried that I wasn’t dealing with all of this in a healthy way.  Several times yesterday I was on the verge of tears but could never seem to just sit down and cry about all of this.  Not even when my best friend gave me a big hug and pet my head in that so comforting way that always seems to make me cry.  Not even then.  That scared me.

Now, I’m fucking angry.

Gaynip:

You both broke my heart today. There is no lessening of these hard feelings. I’m sorry you feel the way you do. I’m not sorry for who I am.  I have no problems communicating my feelings via the written word. If you didn’t think you could clearly express yourself, you should have called me. You didn’t. This says a lot to me.  Call me when I’m not such a disappointment to you anymore. Call me, when you can say, “I love you” and mean that wholeheartedly.

Step-Mom/Parents:

You are not the only one with hurt feelings. If you have no problem communicating, than I’ll assume you meant to hurt me. I feel alot of hate in your words. Correct me if I’m wrong about that. I understand you’re disappointed that I haven’t imbraced your homosexuality. I am also the same person I always was and wish you wouldn’t think so negatively of me.

Where do I even start with that?  She has hurt feelings?  How fucking selfish can two people really be?  What do they have to be hurt about?  Nothing.  It’s their own hatred, their own bigotry their own close mindedness about sexuality that makes them feel hurt.  Like I’ve become gay as some kind of “fuck you” to them.  If anything, I tried really, really, REALLY hard to be straight.  I mean, honestly, I gave it 110%.

How about how I feel?

“Say there, Gaynip, I want to talk to you.  I just want you to know that if you are a lesbian, I will tie you to a chair in the basement and won’t let you out until you promise to like men again.”

He told me that when I was 15 years old.  I didn’t even know I was gay when I was 15, but I would come home crying because kids at school thought I was gay (how perceptive) and would bully me.  Instead of the comforting hug and kiss that I could have used, he threatened me instead.

When I was in college, a girl kissed me and then got a little obsessed with me.  I was away interning at a radio station about 7 hours from home and the girl called and called, apparently once at 3am.  My Dad called me up and asked me point blank if I was a lesbian.  I said “no”.  I didn’t think I was, I thought it was that whole “It’s college, everyone experiments here.” and so I promised I wasn’t.  He literally made me promise on my life that I wasn’t some “dyke”.  He reiterated the previous claims of the basement/chair punishment.

“You know what?  It’s okay to be gay, so long as you never, ever, act on it.  You push it deep down inside of you and cover it up with loads of heterosexual activities because that’s what God would want.”

Okay, I admit I was curious enough once to ask Dutchess what he meant by that, what did she do that I didn’t.  “I have sex with men.  That’s about it.  I do the same thing you do, only no girls.  I suppose he meant breeding?  I don’t plan to do that either…so…”  Jesus Christ, Dad.

I have to live with these memories and these words for the rest of my life.  I have to live with the idea that my sister and now my “good” set of parents want nothing to do with me because of something I can’t control.  What makes me insane about all of this is that my parents are Christian and are always saying things like, “You should forgive people, that’s what Jesus says to do.”  What about that whole, “Judge not lest ye be judged?” or “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” or “Good will towards your fellow man.”

Or how about when your sister, who is bisexual tells you “You’re not Christian because you’re a lesbian.”  I’m sorry, was there a separate set of rules for the bisexuals that I missed?  As long as I screw a guy now and the, God will be cool with the girl-on-girl action?  Hello, loophole.

Sometime during the writing of this blog I decided to bravely call  home (probably because Dutchess was here to support me)…

I have needed to call and scream at my parents for years.  They have been absolutely terrible to me growing up and nothing I have ever done has ever been good enough (“You know what would have made this day really special?  If you had graduated with honours.”  My Dad @ my College graduation in front of all my friends.).  They have threatened me, cursed me, screamed at me and frankly the other set of parents beat me like a human piñata as a kid.  I have always been a meek person, terrified of confrontation and always did exactly as I was told…not today…

During the phone call my step-mom said:

  • I’m a selfish person who never listens to/thinks of anyone but myself.
  • Their feelings are hurt too, not just mine.
  • They need time to “come around” to my homosexuality.
  • “…It would make me more comfortable” when I asked if they would have rather I’d been miserable my entire life…this after a considerable pause.
  • “You know our views on homosexuality” when I reminded her that Dad threatened to tie me up, to force down my homosexuality.
  • She screamed at the top of her lungs, something I’ve only seen/heard her do twice in the 12 years she’s been in our family.
  • “You’re closing the door on this communication, not me.  I meant don’t call home in a good way.”  Wow…
  • “You’re making me feel like shit right now.”  “GOOD!”  “See, you hate me.”  “No, I’m frustrated.  I don’t care that you feel like shit, that’s how you make me feel all the time.”

AND the PIECE DE RESISTANCE …the reason why she’s SO upset that I’m gay is… <DRUM ROLL>

“I won’t ever get to make you a wedding dress.”

My reply.  “Boo freakin’ hoo.  It’s not my problem that Elspeth ran off and got married at some JP, so you don’t get to make anyone a dress.”  What I wanted to say?  “FUCK YOU”

I ended the phone call with,

“Yes I’m glad that you feel bad.  You and Dad have made me feel like shit my whole life, that nothing I’ve ever done is good enough.  That my Dad would tie me to a chair, or that I should be miserable with who I am because it makes you uncomfortable.  And you know what, my doctor thinks I should see a psychiatrist because my family is fucking* me up.”

It ended with her hanging up on me.

*I’ve never sword at/to/in front of my parents ever.

The crazy thing is, I feel really good.  She hung up, I put the phone down and I was absolutely shaking like a leaf.  Dutchess was worried that I still hadn’t cried but after a really big hug and some “I love you’s” both of us were in tears.  “You love me no matter what, even when I do something stupid like the time I had sex with Whores’a’Lot.”  This had both of us laughing through our tears and I feel much better.

I have to say thank you to my friends, I do.

First and foremost to Dutchess because she’s always been there for me, through thick and thin.  She’s the only person in this world that I know I would do absolutely anything for and I love her just like a sister.  Not my sister, because she’s a bitch.  But a good sister.  The kind who brushes your hair and the type who leaves you in the capable claws of the Baroness because she knows you have a thing for older women.  We’ve had so many good times, even her family embraces me…the way her mom makes playful lesbian jokes and punches me in the arm (like a lesbian…just sayin’ Bingo Bear!!  Looove you) or the time D’s Dad made me drink bad orange juice because he’s cheap and bought frozen/unfrozen/frozen juice for 5 cents a pop.  My intestines have never been the same.

Or Cortejo, who surprises me with her understanding and compassion, as we have only been friends for a short time.  Who said “C’mon over” and then cheered me up with tea and a very amusing daughter who didn’t find it funny I would name a cow “Prime Rib” because she’s a vegetarian this week.  Or who isn’t annoyed that I can talk, talk, talk, talk, talk the ears off a cob of corn.

Office Mom and Random who’ve offered to adopt me and let me sleep in their basement.  Who offered to steal the space heaters from work to keep me warm in said basement.  That’s love.

To Leh, for offering to get me drunk on a bottle of champagne because she can be “fancy sometimes too”.

Shane…my newest friend, my evil wonder twin.  Form of RAINBOW UNICORN…what makes us evil?  Instead of protecting virgins, we’ll corrupt ’em.  Both funny and accurate.  In all seriousness, she was completely there for me yesterday and despite being very angry on my behalf, tried to play devil’s advocate.  A hard thing to do, because she agreed that the ‘rents were assholes.

Ulrik…he’s probably my youngest friend but so wise.  How can you not love a guy who can work the word “obtuse” correctly into a sentence.  Offered to talk about it with me on the phone on his afternoon off from work.

The Boss.  Gave me the day off work and found a replacement for me because I called and said “Here’s what happened…I feel okay now but I’m scared I’ll wake up tomorrow a complete wreck.”  He offered to always be someone to talk to.  God Bless his little bald head.

Maverick, who okay wasn’t here for any of this but who’s always opened the doors of his home to me, left a place at the supper table and a helpful friend on all things military, D&D and because once he told Dutchess, “Oh no, she’s as queer as a bottle of chips” and made me laugh til I cried.

To anyone who’s read this blog or yesterday’s and gave any support (here or via Cortejo’s musings).

If I forgot anyone, I’m sorry.  I love you all and your support during all of this has been immeasurable in it’s meaning to me.

Here’s to the friends to whom I love with my whole heart, and whom love me with theirs despite all our faults, quirks, foibles and whether it be Earl or Pearl we bring to bed.

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rhi
    Dec 02, 2009 @ 13:55:11

    Lady, if you ever need anything, let me know. Seriously. If it is in my capacity to provide, I will be there.

    I only barely remember your dad. I don’t remember your step-mom. The only things I remember from when you lived with us was you being really upset your dad was gone, and that we played gamegear a lot. And I was a cranky bitch.

    It just makes me really sad that you have to go through this.

    Reply

  2. cortejo
    Dec 02, 2009 @ 17:18:59

    You are angry, and have the right to be angry.

    I would recommend therapy. Even a session to two. You can talk about re framing, and other stuff that your parents are tryingto pull here.

    Reply

  3. vongaynip
    Dec 02, 2009 @ 19:46:19

    Rhi-Thank you. I wish there wasn’t so much distance between us. The next time I find myself on Nova Scotia’s shores, we will have to meet up.

    My Step-Mom wasn’t married to my Dad until a year or so after we moved from North Kentville and up to Golf View in New Minas. I don’t think you guys ever met. I was always a Daddy’s girl, that’s true. Ah the Game Gear, you know I still have that thing somewhere? Nothin’ beats a little Sonic. You were a teenager, it’s normal. You were also like a big sister to me, which was awesome.

    It makes me sad too, but I know that it will also make me stronger.

    Cortejo-I’m giving it some serious though. I internalize things way too much.

    Reply

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