On being out.

So, I officially came out this last week. While that’s not bad in theory, in practice it hasn’t been precisely enjoyable. I realize that we all have our hardships being out and trying to be who we are. My problem is that I have someone in my life that I cannot just ignore and avoid. She constantly calls me “faggot” and “dyke” and other things that I’m really too polite to repeat here. The thing is, I know very well that I’m supposed to avoid this kind of person. That’s easier said than done in this case.

That being said, I’ve gotten support from some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and they’ve become good friends to me. They’ve helped me get some things straight when it comes to myself and my identity. They’re really the only people I can talk to, because my family isn’t exactly supportive. I want to educate them about the community so they can see that we’re all just people, however, being out is quite literally being out. I’m not allowed to bring “my lifestyle” home with me, so what that means is I’ll always be “single” to my family. This makes me upset. The point of my coming out was to be open and honest with my family and they really just force me back into the closet.

Part of my process in being out is presenting myself to the world in a way that I see  expresses myself the best. Unfortunately for my parents, that’s not as a female. While I’m sure they’ve gathered that I’m not girly, I don’t think they quite realize that I’m not “a girl”. I’m not a boy either, but whatever. That’s the hardest part of being gender queer and living with my parents, I think, because they don’t actually understand what it’s like to be me. I want nothing more than to educate them and to tell them everything, but that’s not the way it works here. They don’t want anything to do with the community. They don’t want to know how to help me, and frankly, that doesn’t bother me anymore.

The thing is that I’ll get through. That’s what we all need to remember. We’ll get through, it’ll get better.

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