Tell us...I knew I was...

always2late · 11-30-2010, 10:01 AM

I grew up in an strict Italian Catholic home. There were things that were never spoken of, much less acknowledged. I was raised in a family with clearly defined gender roles and, like most of the women in my family, I was raised with the expectation that I would eventually fill my assigned role, that of wife/mother. I always knew that something was a bit off, for lack of a better word or explanation. I knew that the role I was being groomed for did not quite fit. When you are part of a huge family, your friends, the people you spend the most time with, are usually your relatives. I had no one to talk to about how I was feeling when I even acknowledged the feelings. I didn't know who to ask, where to go, who to talk to, so I suppressed it all.

In my teen years, I dated a lot of boys. I suppose that I was trying to find the one that would make this life I was expected to lead feel "right". In my early 20s, I met someone who made me laugh and who I shared some common goals with, and I figured that was the best I could hope for. I got married and stayed married for 10 years. The marriage was not a happy one, for many reasons, but I'd made the commitment and I thought it was my duty to honor it, no matter how wrong it felt. I think that there was some guilt there on my part too, guilt that I'd somehow duped someone into marrying me even though I knew I would never feel the way I should for them.

It was several years into my marriage that I started to realize who I was. Just a glimmer mind you, but there all the same. I'd gone out with a friend, it was her co-worker's birthday, and she was meeting up with a group of people at a bar in the city. One of her co-workers was the first butch I'd ever met...and what a revelation THAT was! It was an "ah ha, so THIS is what I've been missing" moment if ever there was one. Throughout the entire night, I kept sneaking glances and trying to stop my heart from skittering out of my chest. She was the kind of person that would touch you when she spoke, and every time she touched my arm, or even met my eyes, my brain stuttered to a stop. I only ever saw her that once, its been over 20 years since, and although her name escapes me now, I can still remember what she looked like. Pivotal moments, I've found, stay with you forever.

I would like to say that after that night I came crashing out of the closet wrapped in a rainbow flag....but I didn't. Some habits, especially those created in denial, are very hard to break. It was only after my son was born that I realized I could no longer live the false life I'd made for myself. Maybe I could live trapped in the lies and denial I'd so carefully woven together over the years, but he didn't deserve to be held hostage to my bad decisions. When he was a year old, I left his father and stepped out of the familiarity to begin venturing into the unknown.

As a suddenly single mother, my social life was essentially nonexistant, but I didn't really mind. I was still working things out in my head, breaking down and rebuilding, trying to figure out who I was and where I belonged. My first post-heterosexual relationship did not last long. It was a fledgeling effort...and like most things that burn hot, it burned fast and was over almost as soon as it began. I will, however, always be thankful for it. It was the final puzzle piece snapping into place to create something whole.

Even after that first, I still hadn't come out to anyone, not family or friends, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Strangely enough, the first person I told was my sister-in-law. She's been part of our family so long that she is more a sister than an in-law. I suppose that telling her was my way of dipping a toe in the water to see how cold it was, and how cold it could get. She, to my great relief, was incredibly supportive. It was she who actually told my brother, who then called me to tell me that I was his sister, that he loved me and nothing could ever change that.

I came out to the rest of my family, all 200+ of them, at my cousin's wedding, when I brought my very butch, head shaved, ambiguously gendered, now ex-girlfriend as my guest. Hell, if you're gonna go....go big.

Tommi · 11-30-2010, 07:44 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by always2late

I grew up in an strict Italian Catholic home. There were things that were never spoken of, much less acknowledged. I was raised in a family with clearly defined gender roles and, like most of the women in my family, I was raised with the expectation that I would eventually fill my assigned role, that of wife/mother. .....

.....I came out to the rest of my family, all 200+ of them, at my cousin's wedding, when I brought my very butch, head shaved, ambiguously gendered, now ex-girlfriend as my guest. Hell, if you're gonna go....go big. ;)

Yes, you did it in a big way, and I don't think it was always2late.Thanks for letting us know that you survived that machismo upbringing. My Ex stoll can't say the word Gay around her family, of similar backgrounds. Glad you are here and now and not 2 late.
Tommi

Tommi · 12-02-2010, 01:41 AM

I recalled having a sofa bed in "our " house in case my girl's relatives dropped in, and all of a sudden we had to each have a bedroom. Rushing down the hall opening it up, and throwing clothes around the room. My partner could not be gay. Her family would disown her. Well, they did because of U/us, and it wasn't the sofabed's fault.

Finding their voice. Today, I met someone who just came out to her family at 45. She was telling me how good she felt to go visit home at Thanksgiving with her partner at her side.

For 5 years they told the families that they were 'just roomates". She said how free she feels now, wished she had done it years ago, because the hiding was heavy. The family accepted, said they always knew, and she said her partner just cried and cried, because her family never would accept her.

Life can be a bitch, and ...then ya die. So, put on a happy hat and dance.

Looking at the damn green plaid sofa bed in my living room-->Dissolution and sepearation of furniture: I got the damn sofabed we never slept in. I AM Getting rid of it. Who needs two couches in the living room, when it's just you...and two cats.

View Poll Results: I knew I was gay when...
I knew I was gay very young.	64	63.37%
I didn't realize until I was an adult.	25	24.75%
I fell in love and that's when I knew.	15	14.85%
I'm just curious and come here fer learnin'	0	0%
What else is there?	4	3.96%
Multiple Choice Poll. Voters: 101. You may not vote on this poll

11-30-2010, 10:01 AM	#1
always2late Senior Member How Do You Identify?: Femme Preferred Pronoun?: m'lady Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: NJ Posts: 2,000 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 1,834 Thanked 6,231 Times in 1,462 Posts Rep Power: 21474854	I grew up in an strict Italian Catholic home. There were things that were never spoken of, much less acknowledged. I was raised in a family with clearly defined gender roles and, like most of the women in my family, I was raised with the expectation that I would eventually fill my assigned role, that of wife/mother. I always knew that something was a bit off, for lack of a better word or explanation. I knew that the role I was being groomed for did not quite fit. When you are part of a huge family, your friends, the people you spend the most time with, are usually your relatives. I had no one to talk to about how I was feeling when I even acknowledged the feelings. I didn't know who to ask, where to go, who to talk to, so I suppressed it all. In my teen years, I dated a lot of boys. I suppose that I was trying to find the one that would make this life I was expected to lead feel "right". In my early 20s, I met someone who made me laugh and who I shared some common goals with, and I figured that was the best I could hope for. I got married and stayed married for 10 years. The marriage was not a happy one, for many reasons, but I'd made the commitment and I thought it was my duty to honor it, no matter how wrong it felt. I think that there was some guilt there on my part too, guilt that I'd somehow duped someone into marrying me even though I knew I would never feel the way I should for them. It was several years into my marriage that I started to realize who I was. Just a glimmer mind you, but there all the same. I'd gone out with a friend, it was her co-worker's birthday, and she was meeting up with a group of people at a bar in the city. One of her co-workers was the first butch I'd ever met...and what a revelation THAT was! It was an "ah ha, so THIS is what I've been missing" moment if ever there was one. Throughout the entire night, I kept sneaking glances and trying to stop my heart from skittering out of my chest. She was the kind of person that would touch you when she spoke, and every time she touched my arm, or even met my eyes, my brain stuttered to a stop. I only ever saw her that once, its been over 20 years since, and although her name escapes me now, I can still remember what she looked like. Pivotal moments, I've found, stay with you forever. I would like to say that after that night I came crashing out of the closet wrapped in a rainbow flag....but I didn't. Some habits, especially those created in denial, are very hard to break. It was only after my son was born that I realized I could no longer live the false life I'd made for myself. Maybe I could live trapped in the lies and denial I'd so carefully woven together over the years, but he didn't deserve to be held hostage to my bad decisions. When he was a year old, I left his father and stepped out of the familiarity to begin venturing into the unknown. As a suddenly single mother, my social life was essentially nonexistant, but I didn't really mind. I was still working things out in my head, breaking down and rebuilding, trying to figure out who I was and where I belonged. My first post-heterosexual relationship did not last long. It was a fledgeling effort...and like most things that burn hot, it burned fast and was over almost as soon as it began. I will, however, always be thankful for it. It was the final puzzle piece snapping into place to create something whole. Even after that first, I still hadn't come out to anyone, not family or friends, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Strangely enough, the first person I told was my sister-in-law. She's been part of our family so long that she is more a sister than an in-law. I suppose that telling her was my way of dipping a toe in the water to see how cold it was, and how cold it could get. She, to my great relief, was incredibly supportive. It was she who actually told my brother, who then called me to tell me that I was his sister, that he loved me and nothing could ever change that. I came out to the rest of my family, all 200+ of them, at my cousin's wedding, when I brought my very butch, head shaved, ambiguously gendered, now ex-girlfriend as my guest. Hell, if you're gonna go....go big. __________________ Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there ~ Rumi

12-02-2010, 01:41 AM	#3
Tommi Infamous Member How Do You Identify?: Usually "Hello" Relationship Status: Married and Bound to Tommi's kaijira (Ts_kaijira ) Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Suthun.... California that is. Across the ridge from Laguna Beach. Posts: 8,151 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 13,621 Thanked 21,338 Times in 5,970 Posts Rep Power: 21474860	Sofabed covers I recalled having a sofa bed in "our " house in case my girl's relatives dropped in, and all of a sudden we had to each have a bedroom. Rushing down the hall opening it up, and throwing clothes around the room. My partner could not be gay. Her family would disown her. Well, they did because of U/us, and it wasn't the sofabed's fault. Finding their voice. Today, I met someone who just came out to her family at 45. She was telling me how good she felt to go visit home at Thanksgiving with her partner at her side. For 5 years they told the families that they were 'just roomates". She said how free she feels now, wished she had done it years ago, because the hiding was heavy. The family accepted, said they always knew, and she said her partner just cried and cried, because her family never would accept her. Life can be a bitch, and ...then ya die. So, put on a happy hat and dance. Looking at the damn green plaid sofa bed in my living room-->Dissolution and sepearation of furniture: I got the damn sofabed we never slept in. I AM Getting rid of it. Who needs two couches in the living room, when it's just you...and two cats.