Homophobia and Hate

I just finished watching The Laramie Project (movie version) with my mom, which prompted us to go into another conversation about my sexuality.

My mom is scared for me, and fear is a natural feeling for her to have for her daughter. We live in a small town, and I am queer. She is terrified for me, and wants me to be more quiet about it so as to not attract any more attention than necessary. Not because she doesn't love me and accept me, but because she is scared of the hate that she knows exists in the world.

She is scared that I don't understand the hate, and that I don't understand how the hate will wear on my soul.

I don't know how to tell her that she doesn't understand.

I can't live in the closet anymore, I can't protect myself with a lie. That is such an oxymoron. I would be trying to protect myself with a lie.

Living a lie wears on my soul, too.

Both actions grate away at my existence: if I hide who I am, I can not live with myself, but if i live who I am other people will hate me for it.

The thing is, if I am in the closet I am tortured and alone. If I am in the open, I will still be tortured, but there will be people who I can reach out to, people who will understand, accept, and share life with me.

I cannot torture myself alone anymore. I cannot live that lie.

For better of for worse, I will continue to live as I am, I will continue to be me, and I will refuse to let anyone else destroy my self image for it.

I do not choose to be queer. That is not a choice. My identity is not a choice. My choice is that I will no longer live in fear.

Homophobic Grama

Well, I am officially never coming out to my grandparents.

Ever.

Things got a might bit awkward in here when the news of the progress on the DADT repeal started playing across the TV, the local news station informing us all that the only step left was ObamaLlama's signature. This was something I had already known, of course (I keep up on these things!), so I'm smiling like an idiot. I've been supporting this repeal whole-heartedly for months, and to see it be THISCLOSE is exciting, at the very least. Meanwhile my grandparents are getting more and more sullen, all unhappy at the TV and the knews it brings.

I was slightly obliviouse to their mood, and chattered about how the bill was so close, so close!

To which my grandmother sighed and said, "Yes, it's sad. It's going to make things so much harder on our men in our army."

Oh. Right. This is when I remember my grandmother is homophobic. Stupidly, I plow on with a, "Why?"

"Well, they don't need the gays in there sleeping in the same places as all the men."

The gays. I can hear the obviouse distaste in her voice while she uses such a catch all term. We continue the conversation, while I insist being gay doesn't make people automatic manwhores, she reveals that Norm (her husband, my step-papa, I guess) was come on to by a man when he was in the service. I don't even know how to respond to that, and let the conversation drop.

But now, I keep turning it over in my head, and I can't believe people let one encounter with a douche bag completely colour their perception of all members of a minority. That would be like me justifying racism by the fact I was mugged by a group of black teenagers.

This is disapointing. I'm disapointed in my family.

Keeping fingers crossed, ObamaLlama has to let this one through!