all day i've been very heady, so much so that it's really hard to articulate exactly what i'm thinking. i've been reading a lot lately, and it really has me tossing things around upstairs. it's got me all antsy. it's making me a little bit crazy and a lotta bit uneasy. it's all about me. it's all about pride.
while i love "pride weekend" with its crowded, tourist-filled bars and the spectacle of a sunday-afternoon parade, the driving force behind, the resonating spirit within, the utopian idea providing sound footing for this weekend is something i can't quite... live with.
now, i don't mean that the way it sounds. i think having pride is great. it's fantastic that people can be who they are, truly are. it's wonderful to celebrate people being at ease with the persons they have become, to celebrate living life with a sense of pride. that's all great. my thing is, i don't think i live with pride.
ok, so yeah, i'm a card-carrying member of the hrc. yes, i was a bit of an activist in college, though i never joined any student organization to do so. sure, my friends know i'm not of the penis:vagina persuasion. and, yep, i have a someone, special or otherwise, who i'm not sure i can call a boyfriend yet.
but i don't think all this adds up to "being proud" mostly because i sometimes doubt that i am proud at all.
i never came out. my pseudo-coming out, was anything but that. it wasn't something i did. rather, it was a series of "getting caught"s. i never had a party. a teary-eyed, hand-holding revelation to a close friend. a poignant, well-spoken letter to the fam. nothing. it never happened. coming out was not an event for me but a string of happenings and occurrences and run-ins, like a slowly leaking tire... a quiet hiss that everyone could hear, but denied until it was impossible not to pull over and investigate. one by one, day by day, they learned the truth.
however, with a few minor exceptions, i've never denied the truth... or at least what i thought was the truth at any given moment. i've always allowed people to think what they will, a habit indoctrinated during my childhood by my ever-accomodating mother. it was not my place to enforce an opinion on others. they were entitled to theirs, and i mine. furthermore, being liberal catholics, the truth was like surrealist art. it is whatever we tell ourselves it is. i was a chameleon; the truth my habitat.
regardless, now, i'm out... well, outed. sorta. my family still doesn't know. i'm not sure why i haven't told them. probably for the same reasons i've never told anyone... whatever those might be. i don't think my family would take it badly. i don't think they'd really react at all. i'm pretty sure they already know. yet i won't tell them. can't bring myself to tell them. it's almost more that i don't want to tell myself the truth than it is that i don't want to tell them the truth. i don't judge other people for being gay, so why would i judge myself? why would i be my own loophole?
when i daydream about what i want in life, i'm not there. i see a happy family -- 2 sons. 1 daughter. a saavy, bring-home-the-bacon father. and a smart, funny, the-kind-that-all-the-kids-wish-was-theirs mother. i see a perfect wedding with a perfect dress in a perfect church. i see the perfect two-story dutch colonial on a shaded street. there's a dog. 2 goldfish in a bowl, and fresh flowers everyday. god-fucking-damn, i am so socialized and so american, and i hate it, but still i don't fit in. i don't work into my own equation for the future. i have dreams for my future. things i think i specifically will achieve, but they don't match up with what i "want" to leave behind.
maybe the problem is that i want to be that mom. in the things i see when i make them be about me, i am that woman. i am that mother all the kids want to be theirs. so cool, so funny, so pretty. am i that gay guy? the one that wants to be a woman? am i who anne coulter writes about? am i a vagi-centric fag? a little bit. i often ponder life as a woman. what it'd be like. how much easier my life would be. how much harder it'd be. a little part of me has always wished i was born a girl.
at the same time, though, i like being a guy. peeing while standing is like the greatest thing in the world. testicles, while occasionally an annoyance, are, on the whole, a good time. burping and not shaving are great things to have be "okay". but overall, i'm not the man i want to be... a little too girly, a little too slight, a little too frilly, a little too gay.
i'm broken. i'm torn. how can i be proud of who i am when my whole life i've wanted to be someone else? as much as i hate it, i want my life to be black and white, no matter how gray or beige or fuschia everyone else's is.
and while i know this is an impossibility, until i'm ready to let the truth be my truth, i'll be standing on the sidelines watching everyone else be... them.
this is just my little way of saying that even though i'm not there now, i'm getting there... i'm getting proud.
blah, that shit doesn't even flow. like i said, i'm up in my woo... words don't work so good in the woo.
posted by brett @ 4:29 PM
2 Comments:
Just shine, Brett.
CF
sweetie darlin!
i honestly do think that coming out to your fam would be a step in the right direction. sure its not easy -- but the relief you feel is IMMENSE. if they cant deal, then they dont want you to be truly happy. once they realize their perfect vision of a son isnt gonna happen, they come to terms with who you are.
and you might be surprised by how nonchalant and/or accepting some members of your family might be!
take a cue from sven, mr. iseemonsters.com, who sent out a (poignant, well-thought-out) letter to all his relatives.
its not easy -- my mama cried for a week and didnt talk to me. but eventually she came around. to be honest, i dont think she FULLY accepted who i was until i was with a boyfriend she adored.
BE PROUD, LOVER! youre a cute witty wonderful writer -- and i dont even know you! so youve got a lil gal in ya. WE ALL DO, honeybunch. im a 16-year-old girl inside. yes, sometimes i think life wouldve been easier as a girl (oh to snag a str8boy!) but come on! you can find a beau, raise some kids, live the dream. and youll be happier cuz youre getting some cock!
hope your pride was fab! chin up, buckaroo. take the plunge...the waters fine!
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