My friend Kist told me that I live a weird life. And she is so right about that.
Life changes so quickly on us, and recently mine has given me a wild ride. Throughout most of my life I have expressed myself through writing, and have shared my journals, thoughts, and ideas, with various family members. But there is so much going on in my life that I either can't talk to my family about, or choose not to. Many of the things running around in my head these days revolve around my identity as a lesbian, a tomboy, and a femme- all of which are topics I can't bring up with my family since I have yet to come out to them.
Well, that's not exactly accurate, my sisters both know that I am gay, and accept it. When I finally decided that I was gay, and not just bisexual, I had to talk to my sister Des about it. In all honesty, I was apprehensive about what her reaction. Des is the most important person in my life, and has been for years. She is the one I run to for everything, and I trust her above all else. I knew that she would eventually accept me for who I am simply because of how much we love each other. Over the years we have discussed just about everything, from having kids to dying, but I had studiously avoided talking about my interest in women. Even now I'm not exactly sure why. Best I can come up with is that I still thought it was just a phase, or that I so wanted Des's approval that I didn't want to chance anything changing her opinion of me.
The funny thing is, Des already knew that I was gay. She was actually surprised that I was afraid to come out to her in the first place. I hadn't realized that a large number of the people in her life are queer in one way or another. She was so excited for me, to have me come to the realization/decision that I was a lesbian, for me to be in my first lesbian relationship, as well as my first real relationship out of high school, for all the things that were going right in my life. And it was such a relief for me that have my interest in women out in the open with her.
The story of how I came to tell my little sister, Linny, is kinda interesting in itself, but it's also tied into why I haven't come out to my parents yet, so I will start with that.
My dad is in the military, and he, my mom, and my little sister have been stationed in Europe since my sophomore year of high school (and yes I of course lived there too, until I moved back to the states to go to college). When I was younger I remember my parents, mostly my mother, as being pretty homophobic. Even when I was a senior, there was a young man, Robbie, from my circle of queer friends who worked with my mom on a regular basis. I can't recall how the conversation came to this point, but I remember asking my mom if she knew that Robbie was gay. She said "Yes, I know. But I prefer not to think about that part of his life."
That was the end of that conversation.
My dad did not voice his opinion on gays nearly as often or quite as loudly as my mother did. So I am not sure what his personal ideas may be. In his medical practice though, he sticks to "Don't Ask, Don't Tell". I have no clue as to whether he is just playing the company line on that one or if he is really as uncomfortable with it as it seems. Pair that with a history of some arguments becoming fights, and I refuse to tell my parents that I am gay until after my little sister has moved out of their house, lest she get in the way of a physical altercation. Also, there is my determination that I tell my parents face to face, yet I can only see them once a year without having to pay a few thousand dollars for plane tickets to Europe.
Last year my parents and sister actually came home for Christmas for the first time since we moved to Europe more than 5 years ago. The horrible snow storms we had the week leading up to and of Christmas prevented me from actually getting to spend any time with my parents, but my sister stayed with me on two separate occasions before the worst of the snow came. During those two days Linny and I got along better than we have since she learned to talk :).
At the end of the second day my parents came to pick up Linny, bringing a trunk full of groceries that filled the pantry of the house my roommate had bought, and we decided to exchange gifts then since it seemed unlikely that I would be driving an hour through the snow for the Christmas celebrations. In my little sisters gift was several designer Duckys, one of which she called the "Gay Pride Duck".
For the next two months the "Gay Pride Duck" and the idea that Linny knew I was gay popped up again and again. Finally, over Facebook chat, I asked her if there was a reason she had given me that particular duck. When she said no, I let it sit for a few minutes, then practically blurted it out. From how the rest of our conversation went it seemed that she didn't really care either way. When I saw her again, she was supportive of it, actually going as far as to ask about my love life. I don't know what words to use to describe how I felt knowing that both Des and Linny loved their lesbian sister.
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