What do I have in common with Batman, Superman and Spiderman? I don’t have the desire to wear tights in public and unfortunately I don't have any of those nifty superhuman abilities, otherwise I’d be doing something more exciting than sitting here blogging. However I do have a secret identity, well sort of... it’s actually just a secret... so I suppose the superhero connection is a bit of a stretch.
Over the past few years I have gone through the process of ‘coming out’ to all of my friends I have not yet had that awkward conversation with my family. I’ve played the conversation out in my head numerous times and it just never seems to end well, in fact it often ends with police knocking at the door. For me its just one of those annoying things I keep putting off, like untangling the wires behind your television- which reminds me I have an electrical hazard behind my TV at the moment, I must get round to fixing that.
Though I do feel guilty about keeping this a secret I try to maintain some kind of honesty policy; in the last 6 years I have never lied to anyone who has asked me if I was gay, I don’t make up girlfriends, I don’t intentionally do anything to lead people to believe I’m straight- I just don’t feel the need to. Nor do I feel the need to announce my gayness,
“Hi. I’m gay. Did I mention I was gay? My name is Michael. I’m a gay gay man.”
The truth is I’m just too lazy to have the ‘gay’ discussion with people, especially with my family. If all goes well and I don’t get kicked out of home or sent to a weird church camp to ‘un-gay’ me I predict many painful hours of discussion, my family tends to get into these marathon debates that have no real end. It would be a lot easier if I could just get it all over and done with a couple of pointed sentences,
“I’m gay. You didn’t do anything wrong when I was a child. It’s not unnatural. Jesus can suck my c*** if he doesn’t agree.”
(Attention Religious People: Don’t get your knickers in a twist… notice how I said ‘If he doesn’t agree’, so it’s not actually offensive unless Jesus is a small minded fool who doesn’t agree with me.)
However I just can’t see this happening. So until I have built up the stamina required to endure the marathon conversation with my family I continue to live somewhat of a double life.
My two worlds almost collided on Thursday night. As far as my family knew I was out having dinner with some friends in the city, I was actually having ‘pre-drinks’ at a friends house before heading out to a gay club. Unbeknownst to me as I strolled down Sydney road alone my sister was enjoying herself at a bar on the very same street. Later in the evening I had an awkward conversation with her that went something like this.
SISTER: Hey Michael where are you?
ME: Out with friends. Where are you? (Notice how I haven’t yet lied.)
SISTER: I’m just leaving The Spot on Sydney road. Where exactly are you? (The interrogation begins.)
ME: In the city. (So now I’m stretching the truth a little.)
SISTER: Are you sure? (Typical older sister.)
ME: Yeah. (Lie. At this point I’m slightly intoxicated and failing to make the obvious connection that she saw me on Sydney Road.)
SISTER: Ok then. Have fun in the city. (The lie has been observed and saved in her memory bank for future interrogation.)
When my brain finally put the pieces together about an hour later I began to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I know that I wasn’t spotted having sex in an alleyway, but I know my sister well- she has caught me on a lie, she will want to get the real story.
Looks like I may be having ‘the conversation’ sooner than expected. But for now I have more important things to worry about- I’m off to untangle the cables behind my television. If you don’t see another post for a few days I’ve either been electrocuted to death- or sent to ‘Father Hetero’s Camp for the Sexually Unclean.’
Over the past few years I have gone through the process of ‘coming out’ to all of my friends I have not yet had that awkward conversation with my family. I’ve played the conversation out in my head numerous times and it just never seems to end well, in fact it often ends with police knocking at the door. For me its just one of those annoying things I keep putting off, like untangling the wires behind your television- which reminds me I have an electrical hazard behind my TV at the moment, I must get round to fixing that.
Though I do feel guilty about keeping this a secret I try to maintain some kind of honesty policy; in the last 6 years I have never lied to anyone who has asked me if I was gay, I don’t make up girlfriends, I don’t intentionally do anything to lead people to believe I’m straight- I just don’t feel the need to. Nor do I feel the need to announce my gayness,
“Hi. I’m gay. Did I mention I was gay? My name is Michael. I’m a gay gay man.”
The truth is I’m just too lazy to have the ‘gay’ discussion with people, especially with my family. If all goes well and I don’t get kicked out of home or sent to a weird church camp to ‘un-gay’ me I predict many painful hours of discussion, my family tends to get into these marathon debates that have no real end. It would be a lot easier if I could just get it all over and done with a couple of pointed sentences,
“I’m gay. You didn’t do anything wrong when I was a child. It’s not unnatural. Jesus can suck my c*** if he doesn’t agree.”
(Attention Religious People: Don’t get your knickers in a twist… notice how I said ‘If he doesn’t agree’, so it’s not actually offensive unless Jesus is a small minded fool who doesn’t agree with me.)
However I just can’t see this happening. So until I have built up the stamina required to endure the marathon conversation with my family I continue to live somewhat of a double life.
My two worlds almost collided on Thursday night. As far as my family knew I was out having dinner with some friends in the city, I was actually having ‘pre-drinks’ at a friends house before heading out to a gay club. Unbeknownst to me as I strolled down Sydney road alone my sister was enjoying herself at a bar on the very same street. Later in the evening I had an awkward conversation with her that went something like this.
SISTER: Hey Michael where are you?
ME: Out with friends. Where are you? (Notice how I haven’t yet lied.)
SISTER: I’m just leaving The Spot on Sydney road. Where exactly are you? (The interrogation begins.)
ME: In the city. (So now I’m stretching the truth a little.)
SISTER: Are you sure? (Typical older sister.)
ME: Yeah. (Lie. At this point I’m slightly intoxicated and failing to make the obvious connection that she saw me on Sydney Road.)
SISTER: Ok then. Have fun in the city. (The lie has been observed and saved in her memory bank for future interrogation.)
When my brain finally put the pieces together about an hour later I began to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I know that I wasn’t spotted having sex in an alleyway, but I know my sister well- she has caught me on a lie, she will want to get the real story.
Looks like I may be having ‘the conversation’ sooner than expected. But for now I have more important things to worry about- I’m off to untangle the cables behind my television. If you don’t see another post for a few days I’ve either been electrocuted to death- or sent to ‘Father Hetero’s Camp for the Sexually Unclean.’
Jesus/Fool ?
1 comment:
arn't you scared that your sister or someone in your family will see this blog somehow? either by using the computer after you or just general terrible bad luck of the world that they are surfing the internet and google finds your blog and they click on it?
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