Coming Out, Part 2

So, at the beginning of this year I was talking to a therapist about coming out to my family as genderqueer, and we discussed how to do it and whatnot, and eventually it got to the point where I needed the topic to just naturally arise with my parents because otherwise anything would feel weird. Like a setup. My mom (and I assume my dad) knew I was on the LGBT spectrum, but none of the details.

And then Thursday happened. It was a terrible day for me emotionally and I couldn’t even tell you why. It just sucked. It got a little better as the day wore on, but I was mostly on edge. Anxious and depressed and just BLAH.
In the evening I was down near home, so I swung by to pick up some zucchini and a cooler, and my mom and I chatted (for like an hour and a half). Then I went to leave and she asked if I was getting excited for me coming vacation and I said I’d be excited for that once I got my hair cut, then I described my haircut.
Her: You want a boys’ haircut?
Me: Well, lots of girls have that haircut, but yes, I do want a boys’ haircut. *pause, thinking: Well, fuck it.* You know, because I’m genderqueer.
I am the picture of grace an eloquence. 
We talked a little about transgender vs genderqueer, which came up again when she called me her “daughter” and I corrected “child” and she looked at me dumbfounded, and I explained I preferred nongendered words, but we could discuss that pronouns at another time. She seemed stunned and I said she probably needed some time to process this, but she said she was fine.
I think she wanted to seem fine and not like she had to readjust things in her head, but I also think needing time to readjust things in your head is OK. Like, hey, I just told you flat-out that you don’t have a daughter anymore. Even if you’re totally cool with it, I imagine it takes some pondering. It sure took me some pondering!
So that was my very low-key coming out as genderqueer. Hopefully this means she’ll never question my clothing choices again (although someone should probably question my clothing styles…).
And if any of my readers have questions, feel free to ask 🙂

Coming Out

So despite the fact that I work for an LGBT publisher, most of my friends are on the LGBT spectrum, and I’ve taught my mom things about the LGBT community and identity, I’ve never been out to my parents.

Part of this is because I feel that coming out shouldn’t be a thing I have to do. No one should. We shouldn’t assume anything about anybody. Not really. Part of my not coming out was worry about how my father would take it. And part of it is just the flexibility that my identity encompasses. Coming out seems like trying to put my identity in a picture frame, when it reality it’s more like a lava lamp.

But on Mothers’ Day, my mom and I were chatting and she asked, “Are you gay?”

And I answered, “Yes. Sorta. It’s complicated. But yes, I’m on the LGBT spectrum.”

Because explaining that currently I’m probably identifying as gray-asexual, panromantic, genderqueer is complicated.

We talked a little about why she suspected and she asked if I was okay with it. (She’s a guidance counselor and knows depression can be a problem among LGBT youths. I explained that since I had my own financial support and great friends, I was okay. Plus, my brother would totally side with me if my parents had disowned me.) I didn’t stress that my depression had nothing to do with being LGBT.

And then she asked why I didn’t tell her. And I asked if my brother had come out to her as straight. No, of course not. And I asked why it was any different. Just because it’s not the ‘norm’ doesn’t mean I should have to announce it. Do I have to come out about liking that Finnish band I dig? That’s not common either. Or hating scrapple and growing up Pennsylvania Dutch. That’s outside the norm.

If we stop making assumptions about people, then we can find out when the time is right. Because otherwise in college I would have told them I’m bisexual. And then tweaked that description. And then again. Because I’m still finding myself.

Also, until it is involved in their lives, I’m not sure why it really matters. I don’t tell them about kink stuff, do I?

Yeah, pretty sure they don’t want to hear that. 😀

So my mom (and I assume she told my dad) know I’m on the LGBT spectrum.

And ten minutes later she asked why I don’t shave my legs. I replied, “Why doesn’t Dad shave his legs?”

I’m not sure she’s quite caught on. But it’s a step.