I’m a gay cis man. I didn’t know what being gay meant until I was six years old. I learned about it through my sister who had a friend from school named Matt who was openly gay. I didn’t think much about it, I just thought it was kinda funny. Around that time, my mom and dad were also going through a divorce. My memory of that time is kind of fuzzy, but I think I got to see my dad frequently. Up until 3rd grade, I attended a Lutheran school. When I was nine, my dad remarried to a conservative Christian woman from Texas and they moved to a different town, and I stayed with my mom.
Then I hit puberty, and began having my “urges”. Except I only seemed to have them for guys. I didn’t really notice this until I was thirteen. I didn’t consider myself gay at the time - I just knew I wasn’t straight.
When I was in middle school, I moved in with my dad and stepmom. I was still in the closet during that time. They were very religious and still are. They both referred to the LGBT people as either “the freaks” or “the fags”. One time when I was fourteen I told them I was questioning God’s existence Whenever I did anything that was feminine in the slightest, they would call me out on it. One time my step sister offered to make me a CD and I said that I wanted P!nk and Savage Garden on it, and my parents actually sat me down and said “boys don’t listen to that stuff”. Similar things happened on multiple occasions. They justified it by saying they “just didn’t want me to be bullied”, and I sort of believed them at the time, but to this day their motives remain ambiguous to me. After a while, it began to deeply trouble me. I fell into a deep depression and began think there was something seriously wrong with me. I was suicidal.
When I was sixteen, I was staying with my mom for the summer when I heard that my dad was moving to a different town. He offered me to let me move back to my mom’s house if I wanted to. Believe it or not, that was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. Despite everything I still loved my dad and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I chose to live with my mom. When I made friends at my new school, I came out as bisexual, and decided I didn’t believe in God anymore. Shortly after, I realized that I have no attraction to girls at all, and identified as gay from then on. About a year after that, my dad somehow found out about it and gave me the typical Christian conservative spiel about how AIDS is rampant in the LGBT community (which isn’t true BTW) and that he felt that he failed me as a father. I patiently ignored the whole thing about AIDS, but when he said how he felt, that tore me up inside. To this day I still don’t know what he meant, but it made me feel like such a failure and a piece of shit human being. It made my depression worse. I ended up having to go on an antidepressant, which has helped significantly but I’m not cured by any means. I don’t know for sure, but I think dad is still in denial about my sexuality. I think he believes he somehow “talked me out of” being gay, yet here I am, queer as ever.
I still visit my dad from time to time, but we don’t talk about my sexuality. My stepmom never found out, thank fuck. I’m nineteen now, openly gay and going to college, trying to find a BF. I am becoming more and more accepting of myself as time goes on, but I still dread the day when I announce I’m getting married. Yes, I do plan on doing that in the future.
| Viewed: |
5 times |
| Added: |
9 years, 2 months ago
01 Feb 2015 04:41 CET
|
|
|
