I’m still coming out to people as I come across them. I’m no veteran lesbian. It seems like there is no end to coming out. There is always someone who isn’t on the up and up- kind of like my grandmother. Bless her heart, I still haven’t told her. She lives in Nebraska where I was born and partially raised. Maybe its because the only nugget of wisdom she ever gave me (and repeatedly) was “Marry a rich man.” She is always telling me that my grandfather is the worried one, because “Lonely girls, get in trouble.” I’ll tell them, probably some day soon… If only I could slip a message into her fortune cookie: “Your only granddaughter is a lesbian.”
I’m headed to see them this weekend with my older brother. I’m lucky enough to have a fairly understanding family. This is where my mom would laugh. We are understanding- in that way that all “flaws” are fair game. There will be two lesbian talks with my grandmother: the one I have with her, and the one she has with my mother. I don’t know why I’m kind of dreading it. My grandmother wont really react (she’ll wait till the phone call with my mother) and my grandfather will just make some kind of sound effect and go back to watching TV.
A sample from PostSecret. Deep.Serious talks make me cry, and I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to have that deep breath-no regrets-just say it triathlon I have whenever I come out to some one I love. These aren’t those people you don’t give a shit about whether they approve of your choice or not. I’ve only seen my grandmother cry once, and I don’t know if seeing her cry again because of me is something I can handle. Then again, that no crying record could work in my favor.
I think what it comes down to is the wedding. I’m the only daughter and only granddaughter. It just so happens Favorite Granddaughter is the name of the horse my family is beating beyond its death. My grandmother has talked about making my wedding dress since I was a young tomboy. I think the irony of that is that I could get married. If enough parents, and grandparents, family and friends wanted to see me get married, I might be able to make Nebraska a democratic state. My mother said she just didn’t want me to have a difficult life. I just laughed. My mouth has been giving me a difficult life for a long time. I’m used to it. If she wants me to be seen as an equal, she can do something about it- just like all those times she had to come to the principals office.
I was sitting with my mother when she got a phone call and right away I knew it was one of those political surveys. She asked if they wanted to talk with me and she passed the phone over. “Do you know who you are going to vote for in the upcoming election?” No. “What party do you affiliate yourself with?” I’m a democrat. “What issue are you most concerned about? Abortion; immigration; gun control; health care; taxes…” She listed quite a few but I waited until she stopped talking. I asked her if that was all (maybe with a hint of sarcasm). “Well, is there an issue I haven’t mentioned you might prefer?” was her confused answer. I pictured her double checking her list. I told her that LGBT rights is what I'm concerned with. She told me that she would file that under “Other”. Offended isn’t the word. I was then wondering what “Other” concerns there were lumped in with my rights. I was going all Julia Sugarbaker on her ass in my head, but in real time I just sat in beyond awkward silence until “Other?” fell out of my mouth. She perked up and said “Yes, but you know? I think I’ll make a new category for that one!” Well, that went a lot easier than I thought it was going to. My “You should do that!” reply practically sounded like a go-team-go cheer for her. If I could have reached through the phone and gave that woman a gold star, I would have done it twice.
Dixie Carter, the one and only Julia SugarbakerI’m all about John Locke's motto: Don’t tell me what I can’t do. I’m also all about convincing people to do things. So if you made it past the extra special glimpse into my life, here is the business: Our representatives in government are flocking to twitter. Not a lot of people contact their representatives, and those that do probably assume whatever messages they send essentially end up in the trash. Just think of all that thought and consideration you once sent to one person can, now, still be sent to that person but seen by everyone else who follows you on twitter. You’re comments to your senator can be retweeted and spread farther than you could have imagined. Maybe you could just send your senator a friendly reminder everyday that you would like to get married soon. I’m basically saying harass the shit out of ‘em. That’s what twitter is here for. I’ve tried to make it a little easier for you all by creating a list of all the senators on twitter (or as many as I could find). You can find the list on my twitter page. My twitter is LesOutLoud, or you can click on the shortcut at the top of the page. The list is named senatewhores (get it? it sounds... like...). Please, don’t let the name turn you off, I had to come up with a name and I thought it was clever at the time. So check your @’s, direct messages and ReTweets, then when you’re done say “h-ey” to your representatives in government. Then, if you’re inspired, come out to your friends and family, and get them on twitter!
