My husband is disabled. My family is uptight conservative Republican and disapproves of people being “on welfare.” Only my mother and one sister know that he’s on Social Security and Medicare. The rest sneer about people “gaming the system,” etc.
It’s strange, considering all the brave people in this thread who have had to deal with bigotry, that I’m daunted by telling people that my husband is on disability. I’m a coward, but I’m so tired of him being judged.
Arg…okay…do you ever get that “But I didn’t know, therefore it must not have been true, and you’re making it up to annoy me” reaction? Because seriously, I’m gonna punch a hole in the wall.
I have a number of odd BDSM related fetishes, which I’ve had to tell girlfriends about. Nobody’s freaked out so far, but nobody’s been really into them either, with two exceptions, one of which was a one night stand. It’s something I’ve come to terms with, but it’s not something I feel like bellowing to the world at large. (except of course that’s what I’m doing right now. :smack: )
I’m open about my bisexuality with everyone but my parents. I don’t plan on coming out to them unless I need to do so. I don’t plan on ever telling them that my ex-boyfriend became my best girl friend. I also don’t plan on coming out to them about my atheism. Three of us four oldest have lost our religion (and none of us who are away from home go to church every sunday). My brother Mark approached my parents about it and they told him to continue going to church. I’m sure that’s what they will say to me as well, so I just never bring it up. If they ask about it I’m not going to lie, but I hope they don’t ask for now. As for other stuff - I’m already open about it but I don’t plan on acting on it so it’s not like I will ever have to come out to my parents about it.
I will never tell my mother I’m an atheist, she is already incredibly upset that my father died as a likely atheist, and hence is in Hell according to her fundy-like brand of Christianity. She doesn’t need any more grief.
I’m fairly open about my bisexuality except to family. I have only one family member who knows, and I’m pretty sure she won’t tell. Sad to say, the fact that I’ve been questioning religion more and more lately would likely upset them more than the facts of my sexuality. Except for Dad–the combination would probably make his head explode.
That is awesome. Huge congrats to all of you on your happy surprise of a daughter.
I am in a marriage with more than two adults, and raising two beautiful little boys.
In coming out, I have gotten the “you’re making it up to annoy me” reaction of which you speak, Ensign Edison. The best thing is to just wait it out - sometimes that’s the knee-jerk reaction of someone who is truly surprised, and scrambling for good purchase on the ground again. Often understandable, but not if it lasts for years.
Just for fun, some of my favorite reactions:
“Really? (brief pause) Who sleeps in the middle?”
“But there isn’t a name for that!”
“You’re a thriple? I mean a three . . . trip . . . there are three of you?”
“Together, like, together together?”
Hmmm, where do I start?
Bisexual? Check. Like Telperien, I don’t have much of a problem admitting it except to my family. (there really is no reason to tell them that would bring about anything positive)
Another thing I am self-concious about is my drug past. I did a lot of them. And sold them too. (I was eventually arrrested and already went through the system for it so I’m not incriminating myself or anything here) Whenever I’m in “high society” I always feel a little ashamed about that. Though I shouldn’t.
Lastly, my age. Strange maybe, but I’m very self-concious about it. I’m always attracted to maturity, and when people find out just how old I am they can be a little taken aback (including at least one girl, who I was already in bed with!)
Well, as I really don’t want to talk to my grandmother’s about my sex life, I can live with the dual family trees. One keeps asking pointed questions about where KellyM sleeps. My mother has asked me not to tell my grandmothers so even if I had been inclined to, I would likely respect that.
I’ve had to come out to various people over the years as being fat.
“Wanna go swimming?”
“No, I don’t really think I should. I can’t wear a swimsuit.”
“Why not?”
“Well… because you might notice that I’m fat.”
Oddly enough, no one has ever been shocked by this revelation. Hm.
My big issue is religion. I’ve never been a churchgoer – I prefer to pray on my own. And despite being raised Catholic, I don’t follow the Catholic faith. My beliefs are more Pagan/Unitarian (I can’t put a clearer label on it because I’m still sorting it out myself). What I do know is that I won’t go to church just for the sake of appearances.*
Still, it’s difficult sometimes to tell people that I don’t go to church. Many of my coworkers and neighbors are very involved in their churches, and sometimes they’ll ask me point blank which church I attend. They’re almost always shocked when I say that I don’t. A few people have all but insisted that I try out their churches. They don’t seem to understand that it’s not for me. I’d just be pretending.
Which brings me to a bigger issue: my mother. Mom and I have a pretty good relationship overall, but she can’t (or won’t) accept that I don’t consider myself Catholic anymore. She’s told me that if she ever needs to fill out paperwork for me that asks about religion, she’s listing me as Catholic until I can give her an acceptable alternative. I’ve tried to broach the subject of non-Christian religions once or twice, but she gets angry and tells me that I need to believe in God (mom is a bit confused on the distinction between non-Christian faiths and atheism). I’ve decided to live with this until I can sort out my own beliefs.
Telling people that I’m a gun owner is surprisingly hard.
Unlike the US, Australia really doesn’t have much a gun culture- sure, farmers have them, and many Australians have a rural background, but if people ask what I do for a sport and I say “Target shooting and hunting”, I get responses ranging from “Cool, so you own a gun? What sort?” to “But Guns are Bad and Kill people! Why would you want to own something like that?”, and even worse.
The other problem is that firearms are such a large part of who I am, it’s not like I can just pretend it’s this minor side interest of mine that I indulge in when there’s nothing to watch on telly.
Oddly, most people say “But you’re not a redneck or a yahoo, so why do you want a gun?”, which then leaves me trying to condsense 700 years of Military History into less than a minute in an effort to explain why, as an adult, I should be allowed to indulge in whatever hobbies I feel like without explaining them to tree-huggers and other people with no clue.
I’m leaving this here before I graduate into a full blown rant, actually… 
Same - I can’t admit my bisexuality to my parents. My brother knows. My closest friends know. My husband knows. The SDMB knows. And ever since I settled down and married a man, my mother breathed an audible - from 3000 miles away - sigh of relief. I’m sure a part of her is at least suspicious, but suddenly marriage cancels it all out! How easy it all is! Hey, I hope my marriage lasts forever and ever and ever and that we’re both faithful and healthy and live together until we’re toothless old coots, but if anything ever happened, it’s not going to change who I am. I’d be dating both men and women again.
I, too, tread carefully when discussing my beliefs with my mother. My father, he’s great. I assumed for years that he was athiest. Bad assumption. He’s not Christian. He was the one who taught me that the opposite of Christianity was not necessarily athiesm, and I am thankful he showed me as much, and follow my own path. His beliefs are different than mine, but based on the same ideas. My mother is devoutly Catholic. I respect everyone else’s beliefs, religious or not, but my mother is one of those “I have to cram my faith down your throat or you won’t go to heaven and I’ll be so *lonely * when I’m the only one there!” kind of folk. I love her dearly, but yumpin’ yiminy, woman. She has some moments of introspection, and I have a lot of faith in her, but she can be quite nasty sometimes when it comes to gay people, other religions, different cultures. Ugh. She tries not to be, but sometimes it’s overwhelming. Seems like she’s only got so much capacity for tolerance before she finally allows the dam to burst and she spews vituperation.
And that’s why I keep my sexuality and my beliefs under wraps when she’s around. 
There are closets, and then there’s CLOSETS.
Religion? I’m open about that, although I won’t go into my personal bizzare theories with anyone that doesn’t really want to hear a confirmation that THEY’RE right (unless I’m feeling obnoxious and want to talk about H. P. Lovecraft, in which case I’ll start making shit up).
Sexuality? I generally tend to not talk about my interests except with my mate if she’s amenicable, and my brother who shares my tastes.
Politics? See Religion. But then, I hate arguing.
And I don’t think I should tell my mom that my babysitter’s son molested me when I was 8, as she’s under enough stress right now and besides, she’d blame herself. I long ago gave up on blaming anyone except him, and have largely gotten beyond it with a bad memory and an intense hatred.
Kinda. When I started coming out, the most common reaction I got was, “Ha ha, yeah, sure.” Most of my friends I had to come out to twice before they got that I wasn’t kidding. After that, though, they’ve all been very cool about it. My family, too. My mom’s reaction when I told her was, “Does this mean you’re finally going to start dating?”
“Coming out” to my parents - as in being honest with them - only meant I had to tell them I wasn’t going to have an arranged marriage. This caused a huge blow-up and an eight year rift which I had to repair.
Telling them I was atheist, which I was much more afraid of, went over with scarce a problem. “Oh. All right then.”
Not “my” coming out, but…
I used to work in a factory in which there were, among others, a father and son. They were in different shifts. One day in the cantina, the father was saying that he was worried about his son, “he never talks about any gals, y’know, never brought a girl home… and he’s so quiet… I worry what will be of him when we’re dead, y’know”
One of the guys, who is about as subtle as a sledgehammer but also has the unfortunate tendency to be right, said “dude, I got news: your son is never going to introduce you to no gal.”
“Uh?”
“He’s gay, man.” Here the rest of us chimed in with appropiate synonims, in case Dad didn’t get it.
Dad: “He’s gay? He likes guys?”
Us: “Yeah man. Gayer than Liberace in a sequined Speedo.”
Dad: “But how do you know?”
Us: we’d all seen him at different times with a guy the same age who was very evidently his boyfriend
Dad: “Oh. Oh, OK! That’s good, then! I was worried he’d be all alone, you see”
Some other guy: “You mean you don’t mind?”
Dad: “Hell no, I did my military service in the Legion…” (the most macho outfit in the Spanish army) “Mind you, if his Mom ever finds out she’ll have a heart attack.”
I don’t know if Dad ever told Sonny that he knew, but it was kind of funny how scared some of the guys had looked during that conversation.
I don’t normally suggest that people leave their homeland but have you ever been to the U.S. ? There are large parts of the U.S. that would seem to you like Willy Wonka’s Chocolate factory would to an Ethiopian child. There are massive gun shows that take up entire stadiums and gun racks displayed proudly on the back of trucks. Even many 12 year old rural kids can debate the merits of particular guns and ammunition. Grandmothers can invite you to shoot with them and even offer you one of their selection.
This is true. I will vouch for it. Let me also recommend a movie: The Milagro Beanfield War.
(Here in the city it isn’t much of a factor. But I wasn’t raised here)
I’ve been to the US several times, but the thing that stops me moving there (one of many), is that I need a Green Card and I don’t think I’ve got any marketable skills that the US is desperately short of- unless you need British & Commonwealth Firearm Historians/Writers, that is…
Still, if anyone’s willing to offer me a job, I’m all ears! 