Untitled--Ezequiel

i generally don’t like writing about my personal life when people know it’s about me, but i couldn’t really think of anything else to write about that i’d be happy with.

            before i moved out here to california, my dad kinda had some hint that i didn’t like girls and we sorta hit a bump in the road. he actually outed me to my mom, who genuinely didn’t care. it bothered me so much that i was really panicking the entire month before i got to california. i was shaking, i couldn’t breathe, i was having major doubts, i thought my dad would’ve beaten the crap out of me. however, my dad gave the impression that he wasn’t angry, he just didn’t want me to be gay at the house. that’s where i had a problem, i don’t think being gay is anything to be overly prideful about to flash it every five seconds in someone’s face. it’s my business as to who i want to be with, that’s like if i were to go up to a straight person and celebrate them for being straight. so of course i wasn’t going to be walking around the house talking about guys, and pride, and rainbows and crap like that. when i moved out here, my dad actually confirmed for himself that i didn’t like girls, that’s when i felt like i’d go through the same things as i did in new york.

i had to hide that from my mom and it hurt because i knew that religion would be used against me and i’d just be left alone. it made me feel drained and tired because i always had to hide. my grades suffered, as well as my health. the same thing began to happen last year and at the time i had thought that the reason that my dad was so tough on me and grounded me for everything that i did was because i was just a bad kid that hid everything from him. i was pulled out of a play a week before, i didn’t really do anything for my birthday, i couldn’t even play my uke, i mean seriously.  however, second semester i was piecing together that i was only doing what a teenager does, especially as a teen who isn’t accepted for who they are. my grades were actually not as bad as they were in new york, i didn’t do anything outlandish. But i hid things about my lovelife and who i was involved because of my dad’s rule. i was following his rule and he was getting mad at me for it. i wasn’t acting out, i wasn’t commiting a crime, i didn’t do any wrong against him. apparently he didn’t want me to be gay in the house, period. as if that’s something that can easily be done, nor can it be easily seen anyways. gay isn’t a character trait…

i slowly felt myself falling into the same state of mind that i tried so hard to recover from. i began to blame myself for who i was. in all honesty, even now, i wouldn’t choose to be gay, not because it’s the ‘wrong choice’, but because there are instances like these that really make it all the more difficult to really be happy.

over this past summer i had come to the conclusion that my dad is who he is, and i didn’t want his acceptance in the first place. i just wanted him to see me as me, because i’d still be the person that i am if i were straight. yet again, i got no luck and i discovered that the root of all the problems with my dad and i, is my sexual orientation. we had gotten into more arguments and fallouts, with me ‘lifestyle’, being the nucleus of the discussion. my dad even challenged me to prove that the bible backs up homosexuality, and i was motivated to really do it, i even researched the things necessary to write a full on essay. i haven’t finished it because i later on realized nothing would change that man’s mind; although i feel as if i should to help others with more understanding parents. up until a month ago, i’ve always been scared of that small part of me because of the whiplash i’d get back. i was so scared to even say the word for the fear of my mentality and my person. now, i know that it is a part of me that i shouldn’t hide just as much as i shouldn’t flaunt.