Day of Silence Shriek 2010 (Homophobia Trigger Warning)

When it comes to people who are important to me my identity as a bisexual person has always been either something to exploit for the men’s pleasure, something to demonize, another reason that I am surely going to burn in hell, or … some other painful thing. There have been a few women yes that I loved, but even then we hid ourselves away from the world. We lived in the closet.

That is… until Keiko. She was beautiful, younger than me and older than me all at once, she drew me out of my solitary life. She lead me into some interesting and very safe situations. She taught me that sex was not about my pain and sacrifice to give others pleasure but for my pleasure and hers. Windows opened, and she is why I started to live as a bisexual adult after the response to my bisexuality as a child.

Keiko thought it was funny. My mother took us all shoe shopping, I had not found pretty shoes that fit again but instead old ugly shoes. We were sitting in the parking lot of Wendy’s the Walmart sign giving us light. I was squished in the back seat of the 1970 Dodge Dart, black. The car was cherry. I felt good. I felt happy. I also was dating my first girlfriend. That one was older, she was the Goth girl. She lived out and proud damned the costs.

I told my mother, “I’m gay I think, or at least Bisexual.”

I wasn’t sure what she would do. My mother is a devout Christian and is often rabid about her faith unless that same contradiction applies to herself. I wasn’t sure if this would be enough or if she would hate me forever. I didn’t feel fear of this however, after all I wasn’t sure she would ever love me anyway.

“Stop lying.”

I objected, I lamented, I mourned it. Stop lying? Why would I lie about that? Instead I just said. “But, I’m not!”

“You are, because you wouldn’t be like THEM.”

Now I was confused. Iunderstood my parents hate everyone but I thought maybe because things had been better that that had changed. I had yet to realize that things were better because I was trying my best to conform at the expense of all happiness.

“Bisexuals are worse than lesbians and gays because they want to have sex with everyone in the entire world and they don’t want to share sex with anyone else.”

I knew she was wrong. How does a 13 year old fight this battle with the All Knowing Mother? I did not know. I just stuffed my burger in my mouth and swallowed. My mother really thought that of me. When I was silent she capped this off with a nice:

“See, I knew you were just using negative attention seeking behaviors.”

She used the over medicalization of my childhood to cancel out any idea that I may be dealing with my first love. I started hiding things again, our relationship fell apart. No that is not my fault. That is the fault of the woman who still worships the Patriarchy that may well kill her.

She accepts this about me now, after my sweet sister at the age of three asked so sweetly. “Why are you half gay?” We talked about what gay meant, and she was happy with the knowledge that people love people. You can’t control who you are attracted to, and that’s okay. She accepted me and didn’t know the dangers that I faced if my mother chose anger. The danger she faced for knowing. She had no idea that I was afraid.

I sometimes declare my sexuality is half gay, because that was the first moment of true acceptance I felt. That was when my silence ended and I knew I could actively enjoy other women in ways my mother hates.

Here’s the deal. If anyone could choose to be who they are, none of us would be who we are. No one would choose to live with bigotry, hatred, and murder. No one. Even if we are happy in ourselves, we could sacrifice that for safety in this world. This is my speaking out. This is why I will always partake in the day of silence.


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