07-24-2013, 03:38 PM
Hello again.
So... If you read everything in my recent post 'Africa Kills Rainbows' -about my manically insane homophobic mother- you would've seen at the bottom that I have already come out to a few close friends. And I said that pretty much most of them accepted me for who I was and still love me, pretty much. Except for one, and this is what happened when I told her.
Lets call this very sweet open-minded girl Natasha ( even though she deserves it, lets not expose her name.) So, as you know, last month was pride month (raise the rainbows!), and I was reading online all these brilliant stories about how all these gay men and girls were coming out to everyone, that they felt that something inside them were PUSHING them because of all the hype associated with 'June'. In these stories, a lot of them spoke about how accepting everyone was of their sexuality and how they felt like a giant heap in their chest had just vanished completely. Just gone, stuck there for all their life... Now gone. And me, being in the closet for as long as I can remember, wanted nothing else but that. That feeling of relief, that something heavy has just disappeared from your Solar Plexus. But of course I knew I definitely COULD NOT tell my mother (if you read Africa Kills Rainbows you'll see why), or any other person in my nearest family as a matter of fact. Well anyways, I decided I needed to tell one of my closest friends. (Closest GIRL-friends) and the first person that came to mind of course was dearest Natasha, the first person I came out to. Of course before I decided to tell her, I knew very well how strong a faith she had about Jesus Christ and the Bible and all that jazz, but I donno, I guess i felt she would turn that all away for her friend, when I told her about my homosexuality. I really thought she would still accept me afterwards, and of course, If she had, I wouldn't of been telling this story.
Anyways, the day came and I was absolutely nervous; we were completely alone. I think we were both sitting down on a white bench outside the school. But I remember so clearly how calm she looked when I looked at her. Her flowing hair, the paleness in her pastel cheeks, the way her nose crinkled everytime a drop of rain would fall and slide down her neck. I immediately fell in love with how the calmness in her posture contrasted to the anxiety I was going through at the time. My thoughts raced, and you can only imagine what thoughts those were,
-OH MY GOD SHE'S GOING TO THINK IM A FREAK
-SHE'S GOING TO TELL EVERYONE
-I CAN'T DO THIS, I DONT WANT TO I CAN'T DO-
And that's when I just blurted it out, whilst it was crawling on my tongue, breaking the silence. I mumbled it at first. She immediately looked at me again, not really startled, and asked 'Pardon? I never heard you?' And I said it clearer,
"I'm gay, Natasha. I'm g-g-g-g-gay." ....
And the expression on her face.. It showed CLEARLY that she heard what I said. Too clearly for words.
The subtle paleness in her cheeks poisoned her complexion with red continuing blotches, those soft perfect red lips of hers formed an 'O' shape with her mouth wide open, exhaling clouds from the cold weather. She stared at me through hazel eyes, made to look shocked by her crinkled brown eyebrows, shocked beyond reality. I couldn't look her in the eyes for that moment in time. Too ashamed, I felt.
So of course it definitely was not the reaction I was expecting (hoping for),but the shock slowly turned more into sad pity than anything else. Sad pity and patronization... When I eventually gained the courage to look at her face again, I noticed how red she had gotten. Those simple red blotches had turned to dunes as red as the ones on Mars. Just from one piece of information.
Well anyways she eventually got to asking if I was kidding/joking about it or not and (even though I had an urge to lie), I told her I was very serious. I am gay. I am gay.
She turned her head away and thats when she began with a lecture. A lecture which seemed that she had been preparing since forever.
*Before I share this lecture I just want to give a quick piece of information about myself ; when I was 3 years old, my Father was involved in a serious Car Accident in South Africa (Trialbyerror if you're reading this, it was in Johannesburg). And he was put into a coma in a South African hospital, where he died 5 years later (I was 8 years old). Continuing..*
Of course Natasha (oh dearest Natasha) knew this piece of information. And in her lecture she immediately began to blame my current sexuality on the absence of a father figure. She said,
'No Jude. You obviously must know that since you have never actually been loved by a man, you are curious to know what it feels like. So you are replacing that lack of love from a male figure, to every other male figure around you. Trust me, homosexuality is not the answer. You're just a little lost and confused.'
After this I felt like I had honestly taken a blow to the head, a terrible punch. She had just called me lost and confused when honestly at the time , I felt like I had discovered myself more than I ever have! And here she was telling me that i was soo confused. Anyways she continues..
"You know Jude, I know who can help you. My father, he deals in these sort of things. Religious counseling. Whenever somebody feels like they are being motivated by the Devil, he creates a different pathway for them. So I honestly think he can.. Correct you." She was now beginning to smile. "And you know what, I think I should give you his number, he would probably really like to help you."
And as she began plotting down his number on a piece of paper in an exam pad she had, I told her straight away to stop wasting her paper. The rain poured down on the tree we were using as shelter, her brown hair seemed to be wasted of all it's magic from the washing away with the water. I told her straight away, with shuddering teeth,
"Thank you Natasha, but I think I'll pass. I don't need to be corrected because I am 100% that there is nothing wrong with me. At least I think not. I hardly even knew my Father, so how could I miss a male presence if it wasn't there in the first place? I have lived my whole life in fear and the fact that you're the first person I have EVER told should make you extremely grateful that you have my trust. But obviously not." The last part of this was mostly a whisper, spoken through a voice as soft as the raindrops which surrounded us. She immediately looked distressed and said
"Well Jude I'm giving you a choice. If you would like this number, then you can take it, call my father, go for counseling and get cured. Easy. But if you decide that you would not like the number... Then I can't talk to you anymore. I can't be friends with someone I KNOW is going to hell. Please... take the number Jude."
This is where I pretty much stood up and walked away. I'd had enough of course, which I'm sure was expected. I had to go, somewhere, ANYwhere that dearest homophobe wasn't. It was too much to feel so much hatred at once, I could barely think straight (pun). So I went to the bathroom and lived the moment again and again, regretting it with every single replay. Every... Single...replay.
So... If you read everything in my recent post 'Africa Kills Rainbows' -about my manically insane homophobic mother- you would've seen at the bottom that I have already come out to a few close friends. And I said that pretty much most of them accepted me for who I was and still love me, pretty much. Except for one, and this is what happened when I told her.
Lets call this very sweet open-minded girl Natasha ( even though she deserves it, lets not expose her name.) So, as you know, last month was pride month (raise the rainbows!), and I was reading online all these brilliant stories about how all these gay men and girls were coming out to everyone, that they felt that something inside them were PUSHING them because of all the hype associated with 'June'. In these stories, a lot of them spoke about how accepting everyone was of their sexuality and how they felt like a giant heap in their chest had just vanished completely. Just gone, stuck there for all their life... Now gone. And me, being in the closet for as long as I can remember, wanted nothing else but that. That feeling of relief, that something heavy has just disappeared from your Solar Plexus. But of course I knew I definitely COULD NOT tell my mother (if you read Africa Kills Rainbows you'll see why), or any other person in my nearest family as a matter of fact. Well anyways, I decided I needed to tell one of my closest friends. (Closest GIRL-friends) and the first person that came to mind of course was dearest Natasha, the first person I came out to. Of course before I decided to tell her, I knew very well how strong a faith she had about Jesus Christ and the Bible and all that jazz, but I donno, I guess i felt she would turn that all away for her friend, when I told her about my homosexuality. I really thought she would still accept me afterwards, and of course, If she had, I wouldn't of been telling this story.
Anyways, the day came and I was absolutely nervous; we were completely alone. I think we were both sitting down on a white bench outside the school. But I remember so clearly how calm she looked when I looked at her. Her flowing hair, the paleness in her pastel cheeks, the way her nose crinkled everytime a drop of rain would fall and slide down her neck. I immediately fell in love with how the calmness in her posture contrasted to the anxiety I was going through at the time. My thoughts raced, and you can only imagine what thoughts those were,
-OH MY GOD SHE'S GOING TO THINK IM A FREAK
-SHE'S GOING TO TELL EVERYONE
-I CAN'T DO THIS, I DONT WANT TO I CAN'T DO-
And that's when I just blurted it out, whilst it was crawling on my tongue, breaking the silence. I mumbled it at first. She immediately looked at me again, not really startled, and asked 'Pardon? I never heard you?' And I said it clearer,
"I'm gay, Natasha. I'm g-g-g-g-gay." ....
And the expression on her face.. It showed CLEARLY that she heard what I said. Too clearly for words.
The subtle paleness in her cheeks poisoned her complexion with red continuing blotches, those soft perfect red lips of hers formed an 'O' shape with her mouth wide open, exhaling clouds from the cold weather. She stared at me through hazel eyes, made to look shocked by her crinkled brown eyebrows, shocked beyond reality. I couldn't look her in the eyes for that moment in time. Too ashamed, I felt.
So of course it definitely was not the reaction I was expecting (hoping for),but the shock slowly turned more into sad pity than anything else. Sad pity and patronization... When I eventually gained the courage to look at her face again, I noticed how red she had gotten. Those simple red blotches had turned to dunes as red as the ones on Mars. Just from one piece of information.
Well anyways she eventually got to asking if I was kidding/joking about it or not and (even though I had an urge to lie), I told her I was very serious. I am gay. I am gay.
She turned her head away and thats when she began with a lecture. A lecture which seemed that she had been preparing since forever.
*Before I share this lecture I just want to give a quick piece of information about myself ; when I was 3 years old, my Father was involved in a serious Car Accident in South Africa (Trialbyerror if you're reading this, it was in Johannesburg). And he was put into a coma in a South African hospital, where he died 5 years later (I was 8 years old). Continuing..*
Of course Natasha (oh dearest Natasha) knew this piece of information. And in her lecture she immediately began to blame my current sexuality on the absence of a father figure. She said,
'No Jude. You obviously must know that since you have never actually been loved by a man, you are curious to know what it feels like. So you are replacing that lack of love from a male figure, to every other male figure around you. Trust me, homosexuality is not the answer. You're just a little lost and confused.'
After this I felt like I had honestly taken a blow to the head, a terrible punch. She had just called me lost and confused when honestly at the time , I felt like I had discovered myself more than I ever have! And here she was telling me that i was soo confused. Anyways she continues..
"You know Jude, I know who can help you. My father, he deals in these sort of things. Religious counseling. Whenever somebody feels like they are being motivated by the Devil, he creates a different pathway for them. So I honestly think he can.. Correct you." She was now beginning to smile. "And you know what, I think I should give you his number, he would probably really like to help you."
And as she began plotting down his number on a piece of paper in an exam pad she had, I told her straight away to stop wasting her paper. The rain poured down on the tree we were using as shelter, her brown hair seemed to be wasted of all it's magic from the washing away with the water. I told her straight away, with shuddering teeth,
"Thank you Natasha, but I think I'll pass. I don't need to be corrected because I am 100% that there is nothing wrong with me. At least I think not. I hardly even knew my Father, so how could I miss a male presence if it wasn't there in the first place? I have lived my whole life in fear and the fact that you're the first person I have EVER told should make you extremely grateful that you have my trust. But obviously not." The last part of this was mostly a whisper, spoken through a voice as soft as the raindrops which surrounded us. She immediately looked distressed and said
"Well Jude I'm giving you a choice. If you would like this number, then you can take it, call my father, go for counseling and get cured. Easy. But if you decide that you would not like the number... Then I can't talk to you anymore. I can't be friends with someone I KNOW is going to hell. Please... take the number Jude."
This is where I pretty much stood up and walked away. I'd had enough of course, which I'm sure was expected. I had to go, somewhere, ANYwhere that dearest homophobe wasn't. It was too much to feel so much hatred at once, I could barely think straight (pun). So I went to the bathroom and lived the moment again and again, regretting it with every single replay. Every... Single...replay.