Uncertain of how to begin causes me to sit here with a dumb
look on my face. I've been pretty happy these last few days.
Maybe it's because I'm finally rid of Ryan? Maybe it's because
it's been snowing? Maybe I'm actually happy with myself? I feel
a hint of truth behind each comment. I am happy I don't have to
sit in the same room as Ryan. I'm definatelly super happy that
it's snowing, love the snow! But I think the last one, being
happy with myself, is the big winner.
I haven't had self happiness in a while. I kind of forgot what
it feels like. It's nice. That feeling of self enjoyment is
undiscribable. I'm happy with myself because I am finally able
to admit to my closest friends that I'm a lesbian. I am slowly
getting myself together enough to not have to look for the right
words to tell them.
Take the other night forinstance. I did movie night with a really
good friend. I had told her before hand that I had something I
needed to talk about. Not once the entire night did she say, "So
you said you had something to tell me?" Maybe it would have been
easier to tell her if she would have brought up the conversation,
but she didn't badger me into it either. I was comfortable.
It was when she brought me back to my house and she has pulled into
my driveway that I finally said, "So the thing I was going to tell
you." I took my usual pause, looked up at her and said, "I'm gay."
She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but that was one
reason why I didn't tell her while she was driving. Then I asked her
if it made her uncomfortable, and she said, "No I'm glad you felt
comfortable enough with me to tell me that. I know it must be hard."
Then we talked a little more about it and somehow we ended the nights
conversation with the subject of getting shots.
Then when things like last night happen, my self happiness goes down
a big. There was a clip on the news about how the University of Iowa
has their visitors locker room painted pink to relax their opponent.
And there was some psychologist who said that painting a locker room
pink is homophobic. (I still don't see it.) But so my mom and I got
on a conversation about homophobic people and everything like that.
Then she brought up that the woman who lived below her when she was
still living in Germany had a gay brother and he was the nicest
person you'd ever meet. That was when I butted in and said, "Well, mom
most gay people are the nicest people you'll ever meet. They know
what it feels like to be looked down upon so they try to avoid it
themselves." And she just nodded in agreement. But as the conversation
grew, she commented about how she doesn't agree with the livestyle
homosexual people choose to live. I wanted to throw something at her
and say, "HELLO MOM! HAVEN'T YOU CAUGHT ON! I'M A LESBIAN! I CHOOSE
TO LIVE 'THAT' LIFE! AND IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S A BAD WAY TO LIVE LIFE!"
I wish I had the power and strength to say it to her, like that.
But when she makes comments like that, I feel less comfortable opening
up that part of my life to her. I know she wouldn't say something
like that if she knew, but she needs to put into consideration how
others will react to her saying that. I know one day I'll need to take
the leap off the high dive and just tell her, but I can't get myself
up the ladder yet.
It's days like yesterday, that make my happiness go down. But then days
like today and days when I come out to my friends make it go back
up. I am happy, for the time being.