Evidently I Was In The Closet

ARRRGGGHHH. There, I feel better now. I just need to vent I think.

At some point I think my father forgot I passed the age of 12. My mom and I have always had this weird relationship where we're more like sisters than mother and daughter. And not really in a good way, more like the we fight all the time kind of way. There have been many times where I have been placed into a parental role by my mother, years before I was ready to be there. (Therapy is great ain't it?). But to my father, I think I stopped ageing at 12. Add that to the fact that I was fortunate enough to be born with a vagina, which is seen as a disability in the eyes of my father, and I am a complete moron incapable of ordering her own food at the taco bell drive through.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a lucky kid. My dad has always attempted to treat us equally, lovingly, generously, and to raise us with values. But some people are simply a product of their own upbringing. At least for me it's easier to blame it on my grandfather. He was kind of an ass after all.

That said, mom and dad don't know details about George. Not that they should know details, but they don't know we're dating. Ok, so until today they didn't really even know he existed. They generally knew I had friends of different genders, but I was always careful to keep the conversations so that the names changed enough that they couldn't pin point anyone in particular. Today, however, when dad asked me the "are you seeing anyone" question, it just seemed...well...like it was time to let them in on it. I mean, I have met his parents, it is at least fair that mine know he exists isn't it?

So, back to the question. We're sitting in the living room, watching the baby toddle around on the floor and dad asks me if I'm seeing anyone. I answer with a simple "yes".

Uncomfortable silence ensues.

And continues.

For

A

Very

Long

Time.

And then my mother pipes up..."well...does this person have a name?"

Enjoying the drama just a little more than I probably should...me, in my smart ass way, answers back "yes".

Uncomfortable silence ensues.

[Insert uncomfortable amount of time here]

My father looked at me with a stern look, crossed his arms, scratched his chin. He took a deep breath, looked at my mother and then asked "It is a boy isn't it?"

Now, at this stage of the game I'm almost having fun. I know where my father's mind is going, and although it kind of grosses me out to think that my dad even knows what a lesbian is, it is also kind of fun to think that I could actually have him going for a while. I mean, MY GOD, I'm 30someodd years old. You think they would have figured it out by now. But NOOOOO, if I'm not married the only other alternative (at least to my father) is that I must be a lesbian. So...just for fun, I play into it. I know, I'm a bitch.

So, I answer "no, not a boy".

Because, seriously, we have all read the posts. We've all kept up on the story. He is far from a boy. He is a man. Never get into a semantical debate with a lawyer.

My mother actually squeaked. My father humpfed like he got kicked in the gut, and then launched in to a lecture about how he loves me for me and that my choices of lifestyle will never change that. At this point I'm almost giggling.

So at the first opportunity I interrupted my dad and told him that the someone was not in fact a boy, but was a man named George. That George was in the military and so our relationship was kind of up in the air, but that he is a very special guy and if the opportunity arises I expect them to be nice to him because he's very special to me and I'd like him to be around for a while.

I don't think he believes me. I think dad still thinks I'm a lesbian. Oh well.