“I don’t believe in the choice you two are making… I don’t, but I don’t think that it’s any of my business.”
I didn’t see it coming… wasn’t ready, even remotely, to hear these words come from a woman who is like a mother to me. She helped raise me. In the four and a half years since I came out, I’ve gone to great lengths to not concern myself with what the people around me think about it, or me. As they say, what you think of me is none of my business.
That sort of detachment, however, is not my nature (particularly with “friends” and “family”) and I have to turn it on, so to speak… like one must have to detach from the sensation of pain when they climb in a boxing ring. The conversation in question occurred so spontaneously, I didn’t even have time to lift my arms up to block the shot. Boom, a massive blow straight to the gut.
It. Hurt. Like. Hell.
The adult in me wants to talk about the “I don’t believe in the choice you two are making…” part. I don’t know how else to say this… BEING GAY IS NOT A (FREAKING) CHOICE! Read a book. I hear that Ellen’s Mom’s books is priceless. Google it. Visit the Human Rights Campaign to get informed about what’s on the line here. Do something. There is research to back this up.
I was born this way.
Even more importantly, look back. Do you remember the times that we were together and people thought I was your son?
There were a million moments like this, I was G.I. Jane for Halloween for Pete’s sake! I was different and in this moment, I feel incredibly angry that you (and the rest of the people who raised me, and claimed to love me) stood by and watched me suffer, because I couldn’t figure out who in the hell I was. I don’t believe for an instant that it never occurred to anyone that I might be gay.
Next: You “don’t believe” in what, exactly?