Today is National Coming Out Day. Though National kinda suggests it’s just here, when I know it’s not, but that’s not what I was going to write about.
I’m bisexual, I’ve been aware of this possibility for about ten years, been certain of it for maybe five years. Maybe a bit longer. My memory is hazy on the matter, on most matters to be honest, but that’s neither here nor there really. Anyway, I like boys, I like girls, to varying degrees on different days. Just the way it is.
Coming out is not really something I did. As an event, a thing. I had a conversation with my mum a few years ago, over a bottle of wine, and we spoke about a girl I liked in school, and I said, I realised then, years later, that I had a crush on her, that’s why I was always so crazy about her. My mum gave me the impression that she knew all along. I think she told my sister, and then my sister asked me about it, and I said I liked girls too, and that was pretty much the end of the conversation on the matter. Cause that’s pretty much my family, it’s just that level of acceptance.
I don’t think my dad knows. I don’t know what he knows. I’ve ever told him, I don’t intend to tell him really, because it’s none of his business to be honest. I try not to tell him a whole lot of stuff about my life. He doesn’t really know much about what I do. He knows I go uni, I go to Mind, I have a couple of friends, and that’s his level of involvement.
And so I haven’t told my dad. And it’s not because I’m afraid of his reaction, if he doesn’t like it, he can go whistle. My mum and sister loves me, my nephew Taylor loves me, and so does the rest of my family, my friends. I am loved. My dad’s love is not high on the list of things I need.
But that’s neither here nor there.
I don’t tell people I’m bisexual until they ask. I generally don’t need to actually, cause there are a lot of pretty girls all over Aberystwyth (the world, the media), and it tends to come obvious eventually. Which makes me sound like a pervert, and I’m not (mostly), just vocal and open about who I fancy.
I suppose telling my eight year old nephew Taylor I like girls as well as boys is something I should consider, not that he will love me any less, or even care that much, as long as he can still come and play on my computer and get spoilt to death. I could be green and he would tell love me more than anyone else. I am just that awesome.
Come out, don’t come out, it’s not a requirement.
Anyway, such is my crappy post about coming out day.
And now a random (but connected) Simpsons video, of the gay pride parade. Including (quite obviously) Smithers and Selma (or is Patty the gay one?) staying the closet.
“We’re gay, we’re glad.”
“But don’t tell mom and dad.”