It took me awhile to decide between which prompt I wanted to answer. I woke up and saw the E-Mail and was excited to open it, but once I did, I thought "Damn, which one? They're both pretty thought-provoking but I don't really have a story for either." I'm not good at giving instructions, or laying out an outline. I'm not the lying type. Sure, we all tell lies, but I've never told a lie that severe to where I've regretted it or if I could, go back and change it. After laying there for awhile, I finally came to an idea I could share about lying.
I guess the biggest lie I've ever told, er, haven't admitted to was that I was gay.Since middle school I was repeatedly asked "Are you gay?", my response always being a faked "Uh, no." look. As soon as I'd hear this question, my heart would rip out of my chest and I'd get red. I'd shake it off and pretend like it wasn't a big deal and deny the obvious fact. I've been asked some pretty screwed up questions regarding my sexuality and as much as I was denying it all, I also didn't think it was anyone's business, especially some kids from school who I would never like or even respect.
I think a big reason why I was so afraid to admit to being gay was because growing up, my father loved calling me names, fagboy being one. Always saying faggot in our house and joking about me being gay. It didn't help the process of coming to terms with my sexuality. I'm sure he didn't mean anything offensive, but it still wasn't going to help a teenage boy who was still finding himself. Every time I went to visit my Grandfather, he'd ask "So, how many girls are after you? How many girls hearts are you breaking?" - something I would laugh off, but deep down it would hurt a bit. I wanted to tell him, but I wasn't comfortable and still to this day I'm not sure how accepting he would of been. I guess if I could go back, I would talk to him about it, maybe when I was a little bit older and understand it all better. I would want to know his reaction and what he would have to say regarding the issue. I knew he loved me, but I'm not sure what his opinion would be. Part of me feels like he knew anyway.
It took me two years in high school to finally not give a shit anymore. My school was known for having a love of homosexual students, but the ridicule still wasn't gone. I didn't tell anyone for years because I didn't want to live the rest of my high school years dealing with comments or constant jokes. I didn't think it was anyone's business anyway. I mean, after high school, would I really keep in contact with these people? I didn't like many of them and I wasn't like any of them. So many of them didn't try in school, didn't care to graduate and spent their days stoned. After awhile, I finally realized it wasn't their business, but why hide who I was? Why do I care what these people think? I don't. Not in the least bit.
It took getting my first boyfriend to really not care. People would ask if I was dating my boyfriend and I'd proudly say I was. I remember senior year walking to class. A kid that didn't like me because I beat him out of Homecoming King asked me if I was dating said boy. I smiled and said "Yep, I am!" and he wanted to let me know he thought it was cool and it didn't make me any different. I mean, it was nice of him to say, but this kid seriously hated me, so either way, I couldn't of cared less. After that, people would come up and tell me how cool they thought it was.
The only family I ever told were my sisters. They told their husbands and my cousins. It took me so long to say "I'm gay." - even after I didn't care what people thought. For some reason, I'm still not sure of why, I couldn't get myself to speak those words out loud. Today, I don't give a shit. I never told my parents or aunts, but they know. My ex from high school stayed every day that he could and we did everything together, it was obvious. It was an unspoken thing, but they never had any issues. My father even started making jokes about the two of us and it wasn't anything offensive and I would laugh it off.
If I could have the mentality I have now, or had previous years, I would go back and let anyone who asked know. I would tell my parents and I would tell my Grandpa. I wish I could tell my younger self not to give a shit what people have to say or care what people think. Those kids from high school? Haven't talked to them in years. Those kids from middle school? I have no clue where they are and I've honestly forgotten who they were. In the end, as long as you're happy, who cares what people think. I suppose in another aspect I wouldn't want to go back and change it because I might not be who I am today if I did. In the end, I can say that I'm happy with the way this little lie turned out.
