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beautifulduckweedHappy National Coming Out Day. I am, near as I can tell, quite distressingly heterosexual, but I can honestly say I've had a little bisexual in me (*ba dum tish*). Oh, I kills me, kills me ded, I tell you.
Two things:
1. A coming-out story:
I have a gay brother. Out of all my brothers, he was the one willing to play dolls with me into his late teens. When he was 16 and I was 9, we'd stay up late, turn on our flashlights and hold elaborate beauty pageants for my impressive array of Barbies, keeping our voices low so that my parents wouldn't wake up and discover what we were doing. Ben told me not to tell anyone about the dolls, though he needn't have; I'd already figured out that there was something a bit odd about his willingness to play with me, and my instincts told me my parents would view these activities with suspicion.
Fast forward ten years. Just a few days earlier, I'd moved in with Ben, into his two-bedroom apartment in Beaverton. The trip to America had been gruelling; besides the 36+ hours I'd spent in transit, shuttled from plane to plane to plane, I'd been stuck at the Seattle airport for over 12 hours because of an ice storm, and the airline had lost my luggage. Welcome to America, little bunny. Hope you like the cold.
We were puttering around the kitchen, getting ready for dinner. I'd had a chance to settle in a little: luggage safely retrieved, winter clothing purchased and cable TV explored to a fare-thee-well. (My verdict: Over 100 channels, and still nothing worth watching.) Ben had been fidgety all night. Finally, he paused by the dining room table and said "There's something I have to tell you."
I had a pretty good idea what it was going to be already, because c'mon, he was a 26-year-old male who'd never evinced any interest in girls but quite readily made off-color comments about Chris O'Donnell's outfit in Batman Forever. But it was still startling when he said the words:
"I'm gay."
I literally fell down into my seat. I wasn't surprised, but at the same time, I was completely shocked.
I said "You know, I always suspected."
Once we started talking, we couldn't shut up. I had so many questions for him, and he had a lot to tell me. I noticed I was babbling nervously, and so was he, but that calmed down as we turned that fact round and round in our heads and became comfortable with the dimensions it occupied in our minds.
Ben was gay. I had a gay brother.
I was the first family member he came out to, and I think something like the second or third person he'd come out to, period. I was honored that he chose to take me into his confidence, and I felt fiercely protective of him. To be honest with you, most of my family members are jack-asses, and I knew he'd be harangued endlessly by some of them if they knew, especially my oldest brother. Ben was especially terrified of letting our mother know; he was always her favorite, and he knew she'd be broken-hearted if she found out. We agreed to keep it secret from them for a while longer.
There's a whole other story to my relationship with Ben, a long, ugly tale that ends with me cutting him out from my life. I haven't talked to him in years. But when I think back to how we were before things went badly, badly wrong between the two of us, I'll always remember him coming out to me, and how proud and worried and honored I felt. I have to say, I wish he hadn't decided to keep it a secret from our family for as long as he did; the secrecy and shame fed on themselves and made the issue much bigger and uglier than it ever needed to be. But it was his choice to make and his life to live. I was merely an accessory.
He did finally come out to my parents two years ago. There was no momentous announcement, he just casually slipped a mention of his boyfriend in an e-mail to my father. When my parents flew in for my wedding with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
borktron, we had dinner together, and he talked a little about the man he was in love with. My parents, contrary to Ben's expectations, accepted it all with equanimity and grace. Age had mellowed them, and their love for him silenced any ugly responses they could've made.
2. And now, a bit from "Song of Myself" that strikes me as being especially appropriate for this day:
Two things:
1. A coming-out story:
I have a gay brother. Out of all my brothers, he was the one willing to play dolls with me into his late teens. When he was 16 and I was 9, we'd stay up late, turn on our flashlights and hold elaborate beauty pageants for my impressive array of Barbies, keeping our voices low so that my parents wouldn't wake up and discover what we were doing. Ben told me not to tell anyone about the dolls, though he needn't have; I'd already figured out that there was something a bit odd about his willingness to play with me, and my instincts told me my parents would view these activities with suspicion.
Fast forward ten years. Just a few days earlier, I'd moved in with Ben, into his two-bedroom apartment in Beaverton. The trip to America had been gruelling; besides the 36+ hours I'd spent in transit, shuttled from plane to plane to plane, I'd been stuck at the Seattle airport for over 12 hours because of an ice storm, and the airline had lost my luggage. Welcome to America, little bunny. Hope you like the cold.
We were puttering around the kitchen, getting ready for dinner. I'd had a chance to settle in a little: luggage safely retrieved, winter clothing purchased and cable TV explored to a fare-thee-well. (My verdict: Over 100 channels, and still nothing worth watching.) Ben had been fidgety all night. Finally, he paused by the dining room table and said "There's something I have to tell you."
I had a pretty good idea what it was going to be already, because c'mon, he was a 26-year-old male who'd never evinced any interest in girls but quite readily made off-color comments about Chris O'Donnell's outfit in Batman Forever. But it was still startling when he said the words:
"I'm gay."
I literally fell down into my seat. I wasn't surprised, but at the same time, I was completely shocked.
I said "You know, I always suspected."
Once we started talking, we couldn't shut up. I had so many questions for him, and he had a lot to tell me. I noticed I was babbling nervously, and so was he, but that calmed down as we turned that fact round and round in our heads and became comfortable with the dimensions it occupied in our minds.
Ben was gay. I had a gay brother.
I was the first family member he came out to, and I think something like the second or third person he'd come out to, period. I was honored that he chose to take me into his confidence, and I felt fiercely protective of him. To be honest with you, most of my family members are jack-asses, and I knew he'd be harangued endlessly by some of them if they knew, especially my oldest brother. Ben was especially terrified of letting our mother know; he was always her favorite, and he knew she'd be broken-hearted if she found out. We agreed to keep it secret from them for a while longer.
There's a whole other story to my relationship with Ben, a long, ugly tale that ends with me cutting him out from my life. I haven't talked to him in years. But when I think back to how we were before things went badly, badly wrong between the two of us, I'll always remember him coming out to me, and how proud and worried and honored I felt. I have to say, I wish he hadn't decided to keep it a secret from our family for as long as he did; the secrecy and shame fed on themselves and made the issue much bigger and uglier than it ever needed to be. But it was his choice to make and his life to live. I was merely an accessory.
He did finally come out to my parents two years ago. There was no momentous announcement, he just casually slipped a mention of his boyfriend in an e-mail to my father. When my parents flew in for my wedding with
borktron, we had dinner together, and he talked a little about the man he was in love with. My parents, contrary to Ben's expectations, accepted it all with equanimity and grace. Age had mellowed them, and their love for him silenced any ugly responses they could've made.2. And now, a bit from "Song of Myself" that strikes me as being especially appropriate for this day:
Through me forbidden voices,
Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veil'd and I remove the veil,
Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigur'd.
I do not press my fingers across my mouth,
I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and
heart,
Copulation is no more rank to me than death is.
I believe in the flesh and the appetites,
Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me
is a miracle.
Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am
touch'd from,
The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer,
This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.
Holy crapness
Date: 2006-10-12 02:23 am (UTC)And if I were gay, I'd totally come out to you first. Even if you weren't in my family, you'd be in the first wave of notification, I bet. Because you're just that kind of a person. And also because I'd totally want to do you.
~Beth
Re: Holy crapness
Date: 2006-10-12 06:00 am (UTC)And I'm massively, massively curious about girls and girlparts, but I haven't found anyone who was simultaneously sexually attractive to me and available.
Thanks for your vote of confidence, by the way. And of course you'd want to do me. Who can resist a girl who looks this hot in curlers, eh?