Brute Reason

A collection of thoughts about psychology, social justice, and anything else I give a shit about.

Topics: feminism / psychology / lgbtq / sex / politics / abortion / health / mental illness / language / depression / sexism / sexual assault / fashion / racism / education / social justice

my actual writing, if you're curious

There it was, the “we love you but you have to understand you are dirty and we can’t tell people about you because it will make everyone implode if they know, and we can’t ever have grandchildren, and you should be grateful that this is how we treat you because you told us yourself that some parents beat and disown their gay kids” toast. Two and a half years later, two serious gay relationships later, after months of living in the same house as me and seeing how me being gay wasn’t a giant orgy colored with rainbow flags (props to you if that’s what being gay is to you, nothing wrong with that!), after a hundred honest conversations, fights, several promises that yes I can still have kids and I want kids, there it was – a backlash.

Sometimes when I tell people about this, they react the same way as the aforementioned liberal daughter of a radical feminist. They tell me that I should just move out, move on, and stop doing this to myself. I can just leave, they say, as if saying that will liberate me from some sort of prison. I mean yes, I can leave. I know people who have done it and were happier for it. But I choose to keep having this complicated private battle because for me it comes from a place of love and hope every bit as much as it does from a place of fear and ignorance. With my family it all comes tumbling out in a very un-American way – the sweet, the wise, the ugly, and the cruel. A big part of it is cultural, an even bigger part is our own clashing personalities. We can fight like there’s no tomorrow, mostly because we trust that there always will be a tomorrow for us. Some days I consider myself incredibly lucky for it – some families don’t get a chance to fight to understand one another. Other days I am just tired.

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