The Talk : 01.18.03 @ 8:56 pm

Someday I'm going to sit my parents down and talk to them about my sexuality. It just needs to be done and done in the next two years, because after those two years I'm outta here - if to NYC or California or Canada - I'm going to go so far away that I might be able to return every other year for Christmas. Maybe. I'll still talk to my mother, of course, but I'm not a sucker for pain and humiliation so I feel no real desire to continue this so called relationship with my father.
My parents have officially known that I was a lesbian since last March. Before that I had the questions - basically, they knew long before I actually told them. No big surprise there, I'm not big on hiding my feelings.
One incident my father came right out and asked if I was a lesbian. When he asked I felt the panic rise up in me and overflow, for at the time I was struggling with the label. Bisexual or lesbian? Lesbian or bisexual? It's so much easier to say you're bisexual.
So, when he asked, I said no.
Another, more painful incident was when my mother discovered my gallery of scars and scabs that ran up and down my arms - the scars of which still do. Crying and angry, she threw at me - Do all lesbians cut themselves or are you just particularly fucked up?
Keep in mind, this was both before I came out officially, so they've known. We just haven't talked about it and my father ignores it. Even when my girlfriend spent three days at our house and we essentially spent all three making love, cuddling, and making up for the time we lost in being in a long distance relationship - my father ignored the fact that I was a lesbian. He went so far as to make a prediction, his voice full of contempt, that I would end up going to the community college and marrying a farmer - even though he knew quite well that I am gay (He used to do that a lot, throw the community college at me whenever he was pissed at me).

Today, when he asked me why I did not have this complete undying love and patriotism for my country like he does I responded with one of my many reasons - that as a lesbian I am a sub-citizen, denied rights that should be mine as granted by the American Constitution. Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.
At the very word lesbian, his face contorts in disgust and he says "Don't go there".

My mother indulges in the idea that her other two children do not know of my sexuality and she can put off explaining that they're sister is "different" indefinitely. What's amusing is that both of them know. I told Jen (age 11) myself, right before the mentioned visit from Kate. Matt picked up on it because more often then not, we forget that he's there, or we realize that he's there but we just let him do what he likes to do - be quiet and observe. So when friends have come over and I've talked to them in front of them, I didn't bother to hide it and why should I, he doesn't care?
I think my mother is a little scared that Jen, who is more tom boy then I ever was, will also be a lesbian. Personally, if I was a parent, I'd be overjoyed if my daughter was a lesbian. Why? No unexpected pregnancies and decreased chance of AIDS. It's true, HIV is almost nonexistent among lesbians and those that do have HIV are either drug users or have had intercourse with a male in the past.

Before I got slightly off topic, I was saying that I need to talk to them about my sexuality. They need to understand that it is a part of me that is never going to change. Even if, for some reason, I fall in love with a man, I will still consider myself a lesbian because I'm just not attracted to men. The male body does nothing to me. The female, on the other hand, is a work of art (points to layout image). Females are curvy and soft... men aren't, or shouldn't be.
I've mentioned before that I don't get along with my father very well and if you couldn't tell from the tone of how I speak of him, I don't hold him in high regards either. He believes very strongly that his opinion is the only right opinion, that there is no gray areas, and that republicans can do no wrong (today, he denied that republicans are as corrupt as democrats and stated that republicans are not hypocrites like democrats. I thought of mentioning the Kansas Baptist Church and the Ku Klux Klan but decided against it). He's also very stubborn and controlling. However, he works hard and is a good boss, or so I've gathered. Most people who meet him find him outgoing and friendly (I appear to have inherited a few of his better qualities along with my love for politics) and it's easy for him to make friends. He just looks like the type of guy that you can trust, an you can. He just doesn't know how to coexist with diversity of opinions.
Even when my father and I have "moments" - moments when we are not scowling at each other or arguing - he irks me. If I wasn't his daughter, I wouldn't want to spend time with him and even as his daughter I don't, but the difference is I am forced to (or at least for the next two years).
Oh, don't think I'm being completely unfair to him. Its not like he likes me any better. He once informed me that he didn't want me in his family any more and he would make sure to tell my (maternal) grandparents how bad of a person and how much of an atheist I was so they wouldn't help me pay for college or even be proud to say that I was their granddaughter.
To earn my father's love I'd have to completely change the person who I am. I'd have to devote myself to God, the Republican Party, and His Opinions - none of which I am willing to do.

Despite my parents - or at least my father - I believe I turned out okay. I made the decision not to do drugs or drink excessively. I care about people, even if I don't know them or if I do, particularly like them. If George Bush was having a bad day, I would sit down and listen to him and console him if I could.
More importantly, I'm my own person and would never change that. I would never want to be anyone else and there is very little about me that I would change (perhaps my perpetual laziness).
So, they must have done something right along the way.

The girl who I mentioned in earlier entries (read), the one I was supposed to go on a date with meet... well she's coming over tomorrow at one. I'm not quite sure what we're going to do, but she's coming over.
We may or may not like each other. Hopefully we can be friends. I always like to have more of those.
Her name is Jessica, by the way.
I believe that tomorrow I will end up doing a few things out of my ordinary routine. Neaten up my room (pick up the dirty panties and boxers), clean my bathroom (unclog the toilet that has been clogged for a week with me too lazy to fix it. Perhaps clean the toilet was well), gel my hair, put in my contacts, attempt to pluck eyebrows without making them look like someone bull dozed them, hide any zit that pops up between now and then... you know, the normal stuff. I'd shave (or not) if I thought I had any chance of her actually seeing my legs/pits. Not likely.

Eventually, I will do my homework as well. I have two retakes to study for (Math and Chemistry, my worse subjects) as well as a fucker of an essay for English on Virginia Woolf.
I've been thinking that I'd like to get a Gold diary account here. It's not like I need the image space, I want the publicity (and I like diaryland and wouldn't mind supporting it). The banners. So I'm a shameless self promoter. Shoot me. But before you do, do you want to swap links? I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine...

/A
mood: a confusing mixture of polar opposites.
music: Dilate CD � Ani Difranco
Unfortunate event of the day: Forgetting that I'm lactose intolerant and eating pizza and ice cream without lactaid

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