Let Me Explain

It's going to be HILARIOUS one day when I do come out to my mother, and explain to her that I started coming out to people when I was 17, and that she is probably the last person to know. She will be so shocked, and she will wonder why I didn't have enough confidence in her to confide in her my "deepest darkest secret."

I will nod, and smile, and explain to her that it certainly isn't a deep dark secret. No, in fact, it's not a secret at all. I tell people, and if they can't handle it then I can't handle them, and so much for that relationship. However, I DO need a mother. It's not like I have another parent in the event that this parent were to abandon me (even though I am an adult, being rejected by my one and only parent would be extremely painful).

She may be appauled that I didn't try to hide this little factoid from the public. She may be mortified to find out that all of my best friends' parents know, understand, and really don't care.
No matter how she handles this new knowledge, the question will come to her mind and spill out of her mouth, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? You can trust me, and I will always love you."
I know this, and I know she will love me no matter what.

I will cite the time I told her that one of my best male friends from home is gay. She quickly responded with "He doesn't really know, none of you know at your age (I was probably 16 at the time)," and continued to believe that he was just "experimenting" and hung around with all of us girls because he secretly wanted to be close to us and being gay was the only way to get close to us. She will deny that, but in her heart she will know what she did.

Then I tell her about what she did today. We were floating around the pool, in the sun, since it is extremely hot. I decided to tell her the reason why my friend disappeared off the face of the earth over a year ago (see the blog post from a day or two ago). She compared my friend to my other gay friend, thinking it was a comical comparison. No compassion at all for the fact that a boy who was barely 16 at the time was kicked out of his house, told her was a hateful sinner, and forced to fend for himself. She thought it was joke worthy.

And that's why I won't tell her until I'm out of college, until I'm financially independant. I am mortified by the fact that she finds something like that even remotely funny. How dare she. How dare she.