The Unthinkable

I did it. I came out to my Dad. It wasn’t a big fiery scene, he just asked me and I didn’t deny it. We didn’t talk for about a week after that, due to both of us being busy but… Yeah. That’s where we’re at.

I don’t know about gay men, but I work with a decent amount of lesbians. They have all been really supportive through this matter. One girl told me ‘He’s your Dad, he’s not just gonna disown you outright. He might say, ‘Try not to get AIDS.’, but it’s really none of his business.’.

So, yeah. My Father told me he’s not exactly thrilled about my personal life. My response was ‘Well, you’re my Dad and I don’t love you any less, so let’s just leave it at that’. ‘Okay.’ Was his response.

So yeah, the moment I’ve feared since late teenage has come. And it wasn’t that big a deal.  Alright, I’ll take it.

And the world keeps turning, yanno?

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Getting kicks on the 76

That’s right, blogging on the bus. I figured a forty minute or so ride would be sufficient time to spit out a few thoughts. I’m nervous about a great many things on the horizon because well….  That’s how I roll and stuff.

My sister is getting married and naturally I’m happy for her. I’m just worried that now that the whole fam knows I’m queer it might be…. A tad awkward. Whatever, I’ll do the best I can and maybe pack a flask for good measure. I’m thinking Bird Dog or Wild Turkey.

My job is really stressing me out. I’ve been begging to get taken off prep and they keep scheduling me to work prep. I can do it but the knife work makes my tendons in my arm hurt. I feel like I’ll never heal up this way.

My love life is still kickass and amazing.  My lover is patient and kind. He’s also as strange as me if not a bit more twisted still. He makes my heart light and full of laughter.

There’s a concert I want to go to Saturday that I’ll most likely have to miss due to not having access to a car.

Mentally I’ve been a bit short fused lately. I’m mostly attributing it to slacking with working out. This I intend to fix.

That’d  be it for now. 

Blood and water

Family can be both an atavistic well of support and a fountain of crushing discontent. For years I’ve managed to skate a delicate edge with those dear to me regarding who I am. This has in my opinion prematurely aged me a tad and caused me to grow tired and frustrated.

No one in my family has really ever given me shit for being queer. While I’ve heard some less than enlightened perspectives, for the most part it’s pretty tame. I know most of the time that I think about it more than they did or do. Still, it frustrates me when they refer to my boyfriend as my ‘friend’ as if the words boyfriend or lover are anathema.

Still, I don’t generally run into any issues. It’s just subtle things that give me pause more than anything. Cause me to perhaps wonder if I’m ‘being in everyone’s face’ with it or something.

I’ve been told I’m ‘just confused’ more times than I care to recall. I’m thirty-three years old. I don’t feel funny, odd or confused. I feel like a guy who knows what he likes and doesn’t feel like he needs to prove anything to anyone.

That said, life is pretty good. Its just a bit of culture shock for my family because they have not known a great deal of not straight people in their time. I know they don’t love me any less. I wish I could just put them at ease and make them realize its still the same person they’ve always known.

Maybe it’s all in my head. I try to consider all possibilities. Because I dated girls for years perhaps it threw them for a loop. Whatevs. It’s all good. I love ’em.

More thoughts on being Queer

It’s been a heavy thought subject for me as of late. I don’t generally think of it a whole lot day to day. Still, there times in can think back to and feel… afraid a bit. Times when I was scared to hold my boyfriend’s hand in public, or just being damned well aware of the fact that I was in a hostile environment. I have a tattoo on my back of a Celtic shield. With an eye in the middle. For reals. I believe it to be a subconscious projection of some sort of insane paranoia or some such nonsense. Always watching my back, even among those dear. Sometimes especially so.

Perhaps I should elaborate a bit. Much of my family is Christian. Specifically Lutheran and Catholic. Most are fairly chill and easygoing. However, some including my dad are pretty intensely anti-gay. As a bisexual, I confess that I have let myself fly below the radar by virtue of the presence of various women in my life. I just can’t stand the thought of my I family casting me out. I don’t want to cause drama or anything, I just keep fairly private about my life. I tried to conform to Christian dogma once. It made me feel fallen and icky. I try to be unobtrusive about how I live my life. Still, sometimes people never stop prodding with questions. It makes me kind of sad because I feel like I should just not care by now.

It gives me hope that Gay Marriage made it today. It’s really simple for me. Love is Love, no matter where you find it. That’s why I’m Queer. Because I can’t live with a life of conforming to social pressures. Because I know myself well enough to know when I’m in love. Because it’s what comes naturally.

I try to not be scared. Most people never ask, and the supportive ones far outnumber the twits. It really is a new day here. Sexuality to me is not a static and /or fixed thing. I don’t stop thinking about one or the other if I’m with one. But by the same token if I’m with someone they tend to become my whole world. I’m not the sort to always be looking for something better.

Still, I’m scared of ever approaching the subject with my father. I briefly described this to my boyfriend and inadvertently burst into tears. He was so wonderful about it. Issues aside I’m very happy with my life right now. That’s what life is, really. Problems never disappear, the joy just overshadows them. Or something.

Meh.

Well…

Things are alright. I’m working hard as usual. I work at a burrito joint as a prep cook in the mornings. Not exactly my life’s ambition, but considering I was unemployed for years, it’s a start I suppose. It’s actually not so bad. It’s the same company I started working for part time when I was still on disability. After two years I switched locations and went full time, effectively terminating my SSDI. As I sit here absorbing King Diamond’s ‘Fatal Portrait’ album I realize that I’m actually something of a survivor. The first two years I worked 15-20 hours a week and could barely handle that. Worse still, I absolutely despised the job.

Allow me to explain a bit further. Sorry, I spaced for a moment as Andy Laroque and Michael Denner’s delicious riffing seriously distracted me. A friend of mine who worked there basically gift-wrapped the job for me. I just had to apply. I was still nervous as hell because by then I had been largely unemployed for the past three years. I started as a prep guy, but there was more to it than just that. I was also a dishwasher and a front of the house employee (bussing tables, cooking whatever the hot line needed more of on the grill (open assembly line type of situation). I was running around like a rat on meth trying to keep up. Some days I simply got buried and left three or four hours late. I couldn’t leave until the responsibilities of the day were complete, no matter how ridiculous.

I was losing my bloody mind. I was also zonked out on Lithium the whole time. It was icky beyond words. I was horribly bent out of shape most of the time. Then something cool occurred. I was cast in a production of ‘Guys and Dolls’ around the time my relationship with my girlfriend of four years was crumbling. This was a clear case of theatre saving my life and sanity. I had so much fun with this show that nothing could touch me. I split with her and moved home to start over. Happens to the best of us I guess.

So I kept working at burritoland. But a guy I worked with told me about the other location he worked at with a different franchise owner and slightly different way of operating. I was intrigued. I went in, got hired as the same job (or so I thought).After a few weeks I told the other store very politely that I was done and went full-time at the other, closer to home store. Right around this time I switched from Lithium to risperdal. Both this and the new job were huge improvements. It was so much better it blew my mind.  I could just be a cook and not do three jobs at once. I don’t mind having to do dishes but all that plus front of the house was too freaking much. I’ve worked there six months now and am fully off of social security benefits and it’s going just fine. Sometimes the grass IS greener on the other side.

So what else is up with me? I’m psyched to be going out with muh Man to see a movie Wednesday night. I have a bit of nerves for an unrelated reason though. My Dad left me a voicemail the other night that made me a bit uneasy. He said something like ‘I have a few things to talk to you about.’. My Dad has kind of a highly serious air even when he’s totally relaxed so I could be misinterpreting. But I remember what I did on Facebook that day. My hairdresser/theatre friend got married to his boyfriend that day and I congratulated them on Facebook. I think my Dad may have been perturbed by this.

My Father’s side of the family are conservative Catholics. Wonderful people but highly intense. As a bisexual man, I’ve always worn a cloak of heterosexuality around them, save for one Aunt who happens to be my Godmother. We don’t talk about it much, but she’s aware and is totally cool.

I’m not out on Facebook. Most of my friends know this about me but I’m not an ‘Advertise it with a neon sign’ sort of guy. I just try to be myself insofar as I can. Too many family members and not well known people are on there and I’m really intimidated by the prospect of how the men in my family would react.  Social networks carry with them some immense social pressures. I’m really not in the closet with most people. With my family it’s different I suppose. I’ve always known it would come up eventually. Still, I’ve played keep away for so many years.

Damnit. I never thought I’d accept this sort of cowardice from myself. I’m so desperate to not upset them that I’m upsetting the hell out of myself. Incidentally, what I’ve described is part of the reason bisexuals are despised by the gay community. They call it hiding behind heterosexual privilege or something. They think when the chips are down we put on the mask and play it safe behind a mask of ‘socially acceptable’. It isn’t like that, though I have asked myself these kinds of questions.

I don’t know. Maybe they would shrug it off. Or they might call me a sodomite and tell me some shit like ‘turn or burn’.I don’t know what to expect. I’m pretty sure they would not get it. It’s a generational thing I guess. My Dad is a good man. When I was a kid I got caught in an Atlantic riptide. My Dad went after me and pulled me to shore. I at least doubly owe him my life. He’s a very cultured man with incredible taste in music and literature. A man of relentless integrity. A man who’s flaws I can easily see past. I don’t know. Maybe someday I’ll summon the testicular fortitude. Just not today *sigh*.

I know sooner or later the cat is going to escape the bag. I mean, if the show Dexter taught us anything it’s this:

NOTHING STAYS BURIED FOREVER.

In the meantime I’m just delighted to find someone I can be myself with. Honestly, this is some of the most intense romance I’ve ever experienced. He’s strong yet delicate, witty yet absurd and just so very sultry in his geeky way.  I don’t really know why I let the family crap bother me. It’s me I have to live with, yanno?

On that note, have a pleasant evening.

-Thom