My story is certainly a story where those eyes out there can learn from my mistakes.
First thing first, while you are still living with your parents and in grade school, DO NOT leave a note on the counter before you go off to school, specially if you leave before them.
Now that that has been said, I'll explain why. That's what I did. Big leap to that one, huh? Behind the fact that any parent will see that and auto-jump to something terrible, either you committing suicide, running away, or flunking out, it will leave you with knots in your stomach all day, with nothing to face but the unenviable moment when you first see your parents again. Beyond horrid, believe you me.
I'm Southern, twang in the vice and all, in case y'all couldn't tell. And yes, I do say y'all in my real life, and I utterly confused in hey people say "you all", but that's an entirely different South v North sorta topic. And no, I don't believe the south won the war, those sorta southerners need some serious help...
Back to subject at hand...
The note, course seeing that note to your parents stir up emotions in every parent, or parent like person, out there. The first line didn't help: "Please, above all else, remember that I'm still your baby girl, and this doesn't change who I am in the slightest." Also, don't write afore mentioned note when you're a freshman in Trig, it really gets dramatic and tears, can start flowing. Was a bit awkward. Thankfully the only other out lesbian decided that that was the perfect moment to stand up and shout a question, and I s**t you not, "Does anyone have a crotch rocket? I think I just started!" Mind you, eh teacher was a guy who was way too smart for his own good, about 60ish years old, and when talking, could out the desks to sleep. Needless to say that s girl hooked her up by throwing a tampon from across the room. Guys were screaming, gals were laughing, and a small game of volley-tampon started.
We really needed more structure, but yeah, what can you do with people who were normally stoned 90% of the time. And yes, again, I'm not shitting you. This really happened, I asked my gay bestie to make sure. Josh can remember but can't write worth a damn. We are that gay couple lol.
Any who, whenever I got home, I got the fifth degree from my mom. Mind you, the verbal shredding wasn't about the fact that I was a big ol'lezze, but over the fact that she thought that I ran away, killed myself, actually did my homework, or was flunking/dropping out of high school. Not the subject, per say, just the delivery.
I didn't take it well, more for the reason that I loathe confrontation, so I ran out there house with hardly any money in my pocket, no cell, flip flops, T-shirt and jeans, all while it's in the 50's (degrees F). And I live in Florida, so I'm already strapped for "winter" wear, so I was freezing. Thankfully I had my besties across the road, so I went all over the area I live, trying to find where they were. Course they chose that day to go to the mall which is over 40 minutes away, and watch a movie, fairly certain that coming over to my house wasn't much of an option.
I survived though, which, I think, is the misguided point of this. Yeah, for a while there lie at home was complete and utter hell, but since I'm not the most flaming gal out there, and when I had girls stay over, I was very sure to keep as civil as possible around my folks. Hell, I'm sure they knew what was going on behind my closed bedroom door, but there was an unspoken rule akin to don't ask, don't tell.
Yes, I am a Navy brat. smile
To this day that rule still applies, though it's. Moot point seeing as I've taken myself off the market, if you will. Regardless, I don't flaunt my sexuality like a flag in the wind, and my parents never say anything homophobic around me. Not that they will, I think, I've changed that. And the fact that Josh, my gay bestie, is the son they never biologically produced, wouldn't hesitate to b***h them out. And stop arraigning my mom's outfits when I don't want to do it.
Any whooooo, ask questions, laughter is brilliant, and the past is the past. Things were hard, but now I can hardly remember it at all, and not just because I can't remember what I did yesterday either. Just please, if you're reading this to learn what to do/not to do remember that we can answer questions. Hell, post your,plan, or PM it if you don't want a billion helpers. I understand it all.
And I probably didn't say this, but just remember that there is nothing wrong with you, you are beautiful, who you love is no business of others, no matter how much it may hurt to discover who roots for you and who doesn't.
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