Church is depressing

     I went to church today. I do almost every Sunday. I don't really believe anymore, but I'm too chicken to tell my family that. They'd probably make me go anyway. 
     The pastor spoke about marriage. His talk today was about the part of the vows that say 'to have and to hold'. I almost cried when I realized that if I'm to stay with my family I'll never have someone to have and to hold. But I couldn't cry, because I was sitting in between my dad and my grandma at church. So I just slouched and wallowed in misery. 
     It wasn't all terrible though; I had a smirk when the pastor was talking about how a married couple has to work to understand each other because men and women are so different. I also got pretty pissed when they talked about what they had been doing for the past couple months; the children's ministry people were going to public schools for some outreach thing. I mean, c'mon. How does that not violate separation of church and state? 
     So I was distracted by that stuff for a while. Well, that and lunch with some distant relatives that were visiting. But then I get home and everyone else leaves for a ball game and I stay to do homework and I start thinking about it again. I always imagine myself going off to college at Harvard or someplace a little less conservative than here. I get a degree there and stay to get a job and find love and maybe even start a family. But what if I don't get into Harvard? What if I end up at WSU or WATC or something? I'd be stuck here, waiting to somehow meet someone while still being in the closet. I also started thinking about marriage.
      I'd always thought that I didn't want to get married, that I didn't believe in love. Then I discovered that I was looking in the wrong places. So now I'm thinking that I want the right to marry, of course. But then I start to question if I actually want marriage. I mean, I do want to spend my life with an amazing woman. But what would the marriage be like? We'd invite our friends, the family that supports us... then what? Would we both have bridesmaids? Would our fathers walk us both down the aisle? Who would be pulling the garter off whom at the reception? Would my parents even come? Would my grandma support us? Would my sister be a bridesmaid? Would I want her as a bridesmaid? Who would carry whom over the threshold? Would we be missing out if we just spruced up a little, went down to City Hall, and  signed a piece of paper? 
     So I'm sitting in the living room alone, all this fear and doubt and confusion running through my mind, and I wanna cry. But I just can't. So I get on YouTube and start looking up sad Carrie Underwood videos and when I watch the last part of Temporary Home it makes my think of my grandma and I start thinking. What if the breast cancer hadn't gone into remission? What if it comes back? What if I never come out to her? Would I regret it? Should I not come out to her for her sake? So my eyes start tingling and burning and watering but I still can't quite cry. So I abandon the music videos and look up something that has made me cry before. I watch the ending of the Doomsday episode of Doctor Who and I start pretty much crying when Rose is crying at Bad Wolf Bay when the Doctor tells her that he'll probably never see her again. Then I start bawling when Rose tells the Doctor that she loves him and he says "Quite right, too. And I suppose... It's my last chance to say it... Rose Tyler-" and then the gap seals and he never gets to say that he loves her. And then I start laugh-crying with tears streaming down my face when Donna shows up. 
     Long story short: I'm a pathetic blubbering mess. 


I can't wait until next week. 

I think I'm probably only the millionth blogger writing about this

     I got a notification on my phone late last night that President Barack Obama was to give an unexpected address. My thoughts were pretty much "Good for him. I hope the media will update me later with the gist of it."
     Well, they did. I received a notification that informed me simply that Bin Laden was dead. I didn't pay too much attention last night; I was already sleepy. My thoughts were along the lines of "I wonder if he ever got any sort of trial?" "Was he in a cave somewhere?" "Did they use drones or fancy stuff like that?" ""Was there collateral damage?" "I bet people are out celebrating. I wonder if the whole 'power-vacuum' thing has occurred to them yet."   I figured I'd hear plenty of it the next day.
     I was correct. It was all over school, and for some reason no joke was 'too soon'. I got home, messed around on the computer for a while, then came out into the living room in time to catch the tail end of the local news as I poured myself some chocolate milk. I decided to sit down and watch national news. Why not?
     Well, I still don't know if Bin Laden's wife is okay, or if any of the Navy SEALs were injured, or what happened to the several children the found in the compound. Or if anyone was injured in the revelry last night. Or what impact his might have on islamophobic hate crime. But I've heard from Rudy Giuliani and several first responders on September 11, 2001. The footage of the attacks on the towers nearly made me cry. But I'm still a bit irritated that I have so many unanswered questions. 
     I guess I'll buy the memoir of one of the Pentagon officials involved when it hits the NYT bestseller list in a few months. 

Changes

I've just realized that my blog is boring. So way to sugarcoat it. It's just me bitching about how much life sucks in the closet. So I've decided to institute some changes.


My life isn't all about how much I wish I could be out but don't wanna be kicked out and wallowing in self-pity and all. Though there's probably more self-pity than is healthy. There are other aspects to my existence. I may be a lesbian, but it doesn't define who I am.


So I'm going to try to post some of the awesome things in life too. The underlying theme will still probably be lesbian, because I'm kinda obsessed with lesbian media and queer issues in general.  I'm thinking it might end up being a cross between MormonLesbian's fangirl-ish-ness and sexuality and Hyperbole and a Half's personal stories. And hopefully some of the humor too.


But there will probably still be some bitching.


Find MormonLesbian here: http://www.mormonlesbian.blogspot.com/
And Hyperbole and a Half aqui: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/


What was that? "Aqui"? Was that Spanish? That's right people, I am a constant surprise. 

Let Me Borrow Your Imagination for a Moment

Imagine this for me. Imagine having a secret. A huge secret. A secret that affects your life tremendously. If you could just share this secret you could really be yourself. But you know that if your family found out about this secret it could have disastrous consequences. They’d first try to deny it, tell you that you were wrong.  Then they’d try to change your mind. They’d try to get you to see the error of your ways, to turn from your sin. But you know that no matter what they say, you’re right. That secret is a part of you. It’s not a choice, it’s a fact. And then when they get fed up of you standing up for yourself they really turn against you.  They ostracize you. They disown you. They kick you out. You’re a pariah within your family. If they knew your secret, you would eventually end up homeless, helpless. So you’re faced with a dilemma every day. Should you keep your secret to keep your cozy life? Or should you share your secret? Should you stand up for who you are and what you believe in, even if it would have disastrous consequences?


This is the voice of one who can't speak. It's humbling to want to participate in the Day of Silence, but realize you can't because you're one of the people the event is for. 

You Can't Pray Away the Gay

     I love Grey's Anatomy, I really do.  Not in the "I watch it every time it's on, can name every actor and his/her character, and own all the DVDs" sense, but in the "My mom watches the show and maybe when she sees the true love between Callie and Arizona she'll realize" sense. In fact, I've seen very little Grey's Anatomy, and I don't really like Grey.  But I love Calliope.  Not because she has an awesome name, which she does, but because she's so damn relate-able. Though I'm more like Arizona in the sense that I'm not bi but rather a Gold Star Lesbian, I can identify wholeheartedly with Callie's struggle for her dad's acceptance.
     I saw the episode with the slogan above.  With my mom. At the time my mother was openly hostile about it. I didn't really mind because I hadn't really realized who I am yet. And I just so happened to also see tonight's episode with my mother.  I was watching the screen, not her face, but she seemed much more accepting here. She didn't say anything hateful when the baby daddy told Arizona "You're nothing." She didn't say anything about Arizona calling herself the child's mother.  And most importantly, she seemed almost as relieved as I was when at the end Callie comes to and says "I'll marry you." Maybe, hopefully, she can see that the love between these two women is more pure and true than the romance between Meredith and McDreamy could ever be. And no, I don't know what Dempsey's character's name really is. It is Dempsey, correct?

I feel really, really crappy.  I was already feeling ill, then my mum walks in.  She makes herself right at home and starts bugging me, first about clothes. Then about, well, what gives me the feeling of despair within my chest. She starts trying to talk to me about "homosexuals."
"It's a choice. Some people may have a genetic predisposition, but it's up to them whether they act on it, like obesity or alcohol addiction. See, I may have a genetic predisposition to obesity. But no one's forcing the food down my throat.  And gluttony is a sin too.  I just want you to turn to your dad or i, or the Bible, for answers. Not to your friends. Are any of your friends... homosexuals?"
The answer is yes. I say no.
"I don't know if I ever told you, but your aunt Mary had a period where she thought she was homosexual. But she didn't start of that way.  And she didn't end up that way. So it is a choice."
Ever heard of bisexuality, god dammit? Or denial?
By the Gods, I hate this bloody family sometimes.  I knew that Aunt Mary had fallen out of favor with the family as a young adult.  I figured it was drugs or something. But no, I didn't meet her until I was a teenager because she liked, or likes, women.
And turning to the Bible instead of my friends? Bloody hell woman, what are friends for then? Think I ought to hang out at the mall with peers on Saturday afternoons but once I really need a friend I should shut them out, and go read a book instead?
How can you be so stubborn? Scientific studies support the assertion that sexuality is not a choice, as well as the fact that the Earth has been around for millions of years and that everything evolved from a common microbial origin. But these nitwits won't even acknowledge that species change over generations, which we can see happening right in front of ourselves, because some bloody book told them so! I'm surprised Mommy Dearest doesn't support a geocentric outlook!
But enough about how my parent's particular brand of religion doesn't make sense. I just... I guess I just wanted to share with the internet how much my parent's intolerance hurts me.  All I want is a loving family, but I don't get that because my family wouldn't love me if they knew the real me.  Just look at Aunt Mary.

Dockum Sit-In

So I was just watching a programme on KPTS about the Dockum Sit-in. About how those people, teenage Wichita High School East students, stood up for themselves by sitting down.  They put their reputations, their honor, and likely their lives on the line to fight for what they believed in, peacefully.  They secured their rights and the rights of so many others like them by ordering a Coke. 
It makes me feel both proud and guilty.  Proud that my high school was a second home to such great people.  But also guilty, because that should be me.  Why aren't my fellow East students and I out there winning our rights to marry, and serve openly in the military, and start a family? If they could do it, why can't I?
One reason springs to mind immediately: support.  In the programme they spoke of how their parents, siblings, cousins, neighbors helped them do what they did simply by giving their approval and moral support.  But I don't have that.  If this were an "us vs. them," which I sorely hope it isn't, my family would be squarely "them" with my friends and I being "us." If I were to come out I would be lectured, berated, and likely kicked out.  I'm fifteen.  I have no way of supporting myself.  And it really sucks, really really sucks, that I have to be this damn independent.  No familial support for me.  Which is likely why I consider East my home despite the fact that I don't sleep there.
East will let me walk the halls, will let me learn from the teachers and associate with my peers no matter my sexuality.  Really, a family is only a family when it has unconditional love.  My "family" loves me if I'm straight.  And I love them if they accept me. But East, wonderfully diverse, unique, accepting (mostly), East, lets me be an Ace and be who I am. 
Where was I going with this?
Anyways, I really wish I had the courage to stand up and do a sit-in at a chapel or recruitment office or something.  But I'm too afraid.  I'm afraid of the consequences, of how it would affect my education, my address, my life. The stakes were higher in some ways for the Dockum Sit-In kids; I doubt the police would threaten us for being gay and in the "wrong" place.  But in others they're higher for us.  Their parents weren't exactly going to shun them for being black. 
In conclusion:  I'm gay.  I'm proud.  But I'm scared.