My name is Anastasaeon, and I used to be a homophobe. It’s shameful.
I was raised Catholic, by a very confused but devout Catholic mother. Both of my parents dislike gay people. My mother is particularly in turmoil, because one of her beloved cousins turned out to be gay, and when the rest of the family taunted, shunned, and rejected him, she did, too, believing with all her heart that it was wrong and sinful and he was going to hell. In the mid-80s, he died of AIDS. My mother bounced back and forth between mourning his death and proclaiming loudly that he deserved it. I grew up listening to this.
I was just a child, and my parents were the whole world. They knew everything, right? God.
I was about 14 years old, myself a stomping, loud homophobe, growing up in a stomping, loud, homophobic community. I was a bit of an outcast, but wanted desperately to fit in. I befriended other outcasts, never impressing any of the popular kids.
One of these outcasts became my very best friend. He would do things so differently, and I secretly respected the courage he had to go against the grain so damn hard. He bought funny clothes; fancy clothes, nothing like the sweatshirts and team jerseys everyone else wore, even the girls. He dyed his hair funny colours. I used to tease him lovingly; while others teased him mercilessly and with spite. Eventually, he was picked on so badly, he decided to switch schools, to a place a little more “open minded” - not a small town, but a very small city. He invited me with him to hang out with his new friends.
My world was turned upside down by these people. They were so kind, so sweet, and so uncaring about how I looked or dressed. They just liked me, and they just liked him. We weren’t outcasts anymore. People liked us. I invited some of my other “loser” pals to meet these people. This new world, it was so unlike the tiny town I knew of. I realised that life was different outside that awful place. If it was different just a half an hour away, the whole world must be an amazing place. My mind expanded. I started, for the first time, really, to think for myself. My opinions were mine and mine alone. I liked it. I felt better.
We got braver. I made very close friends, and met wonderful people. One day, my best friend took me aside, and told me gently he had something to tell me about one of my dearest friends: she was a lesbian. I was thunderstruck. My mind reeled around, feeling partly disgusted, but something else… something new. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel before. I loved this girl as my friend, and I couldn’t hate her even if I’d tried. She was too wonderful. As I got used to the idea that she was a lesbian, I figured something out about myself: I had a crush on her, and always had. I didn’t act on it. I just mulled this over and kept it to myself. I never ever told her how I felt about her. I never told my best friend, either.
Later, he came out to me. He thought I would hate him, but I surprised the hell out of him by saying, sighing, “Yeah. I know. I always knew.” We had some really long heart to heart talks over that. I had been such an ass, and he forgave me. Then another friend came out. Then another. Many, many more did, not all at once, but over time, and when they were ready, and told me when they were comfortable. My mother remarked that I was a big gay magnet. Yeah. Weird. I kind of was. Still kind of am.
Some of my friends identified as gay. Some are women now, who were originally men. Some are men now, who were originally women. Some enjoy crossdressing, but are still men/women and are gay. Today, and even then, I respected and loved each and every one of them, and accepted them as who they are. They are all precious to me.
I, myself, as many of you know, realise today that I am bisexual. I don’t think I was ever “fighting” it, I was just ignorant. I am married today, to a man. Though I never told my mother anything, everyone knows she is greatly relieved. But if anything ever happened to my dear husband (god forbid), I will always be bi, and will date men and women, if I like them. I accept that, for myself, I will fall in love with who I fall in love with. Why pretend otherwise? (I know not everyone is bisexual, this is just how I am - I am attracted to both men and women. I know others are attracted to only men or only women, and are not denying themselves anything. But I would be, because I am attracted to both!)
My mother is still very back and forth on the whole subject; confused and tormented by her love, grief, and prejudices. My father doesn’t say much about gay people, just rolls his eyes on the subject. He’s a very quiet man. Maybe he likes them just fine, but good luck getting that out of him. I love them both, despite fiercly disagreeing with them over certain things. And I am calmly awaiting the phone call from my little brother, who I am more than certain will come to me first with advice on how to come out to mom and dad. He’s the only one in my family who knows I am bisexual. He hasn’t come out to anyone, not even me, yet. But I know. I think he knows I do, but I’ll never breath a word until he’s ready.
I am 27 today. Bi, raised Catholic, rejected it and became a Taoist. But once upon a time, I was a screaming 'phobe. I am glad I’m not the person I used to be. I’d hate myself. And I’d probably be just as confused and conflicted as my poor mother, who is only making herself miserable, and setting herself up for one nasty, nasty jolt when my brother comes out one day.