I’ve been thinking a lot today, as Iowa of all places just showed itself to be more progressive than I ever would have given it credit for, about how to come out to my paternal grandmother. (Maternal grandma, with whom I am somewhat closer, knows all about the gay and has pretty much always been uber-supportive). It’s been nearly 10 years, and I’m thinking it mayyyyy be time to let other grandma in on the secret. And as I was pondering worst-case-scenarios (despite the post-Iowa glow) this thought occurred to me:
So, I know that in not telling her, I am neglecting to give her the chance to know my whole self. But is it possible, too, that in keeping this information from her I am failing to give her the chance to know her whole self? What if I – in my hesitation to tell her the truth, out of my own sense of worry and fear – am withholding a moment for her to be loving, tolerant, progressive, understanding? What if I am neglecting to give her room to be better than I expect? Better, maybe, than she expects?
Does that sound too… I don’t know, pretentious? I don’t mean it to be… I just hadn’t thought of coming out that way: as a gift, almost. An opportunity for people to show themselves to be what you’d hoped they would be. I’m one of those who rarely gives up on people, even when I maybe should, because I always want to leave the door open for them to redeem themselves, to be better than they were. I can never shut that door.
.the day the sun came out.
I’ve come out so many times – still do, so often – that it’s almost rote at this point. For the most part, I no longer care how people take it, because I know where (almost) all the most important people in my life stand. But I like the idea of coming out as not just something I have to do for myself, so that I can walk through the world with integrity, but as a moment that can others to do that as well. What do you think?
On a much less serious note, how fabulous is it that one of the top google searches for people to find my blog is “animals in pajamas”? Clearly, I am on my way to greatness.
Finn and I have started a contest, for no other reason than we like contests, to see which one of us can read the most pages. We were inspired by her brother and his wife, who are having a competition to see who can read the most books, but we decided that wasn’t entirely fair since some books are so much longer than others. (Despite our seeming need for this competition to be entirely on the up and up, we neglected to put a time limit on the thing – no, don’t think about it too much). Since I’m a faster reader, she gets to count pages from things like the Twilight novels, while I apparently don’t get to count anything not written for grown ups. Not that I’m sure I even want to venture to read the rest of the Twilight books… I read the first to see what all the hype was about, and I thought I was going to kill myself. (From a letter I wrote to a friend as I was muddling my way through: “I’m going to try and make it through the first one, but if this whole page-upon-page of desperate fawning and soulful, heavy-lidded glances punctuated by inane teenybopper conversation and thinly veiled shoutouts to the abstinence-only crowd thing doesn’t end soon, I may have to stop.”) Also, I’m apparently the only person who thinks Edward is a condescending asshole and not dreamy in the least. That said, I do kind of feel I should give the second book a chance. (What did I say about my inability to close doors???)
Anyway, I’m currently well into Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys, which I think I may have read at some point during high school because the story sounds strangely familiar in parts, and which I’m quite enjoying either way. (I have a bad habit of forgetting which books I read during high school, as I devoured books at a rate that probably wasn’t entirely healthy. There was also a summer in college when I worked at the library and wasn’t taking classes or anything, so I ended up reading upwards of 50 books at a pace that has rendered them all one fantastical wispy blur). I also just finished Stand the Storm by Breena Clarke, which was a pretty wonderful novel about a newly-freed slave family struggling through the pre-and-post Civil-War era. And next I’m planning on getting into Founding Brothers: The Revolutionary Generation in order to continue to feed my obsession with the Revolutionary War (and John Adams in particular – I may have been him in a past life, actually). Though I might get sidetracked by World Without End by Ken Follet, because I really enjoyed his Pillars of the Earth and because it’s going to be due back to the library soon.
Okay, this post might have just taken kind of a nerdy turn. In closing, then, something slightly snarky to up my hipster factor: I give you Autostraddle’s The L Word WTF?! Video, Part 1.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
…it’s funny because it’s true.