This is going to be a short post, for all the right reasons.
Over winter break, I came out to the rest of my family. A few knew before, but now everyone is in the loop. I did it at dinner one night- I saw an opening in the conversation and jumped in. Everyone was surprised, but within a few minutes they had accepted it. Despite the suburban and conservative nature of my family, nobody had a problem, nobody asked an insensitive or insulting question. Conversation marched along, nothing different. I literally have nothing else to say about it, which is kind of awesome.
At first I felt gratitude at being accepted by my family. Then I remembered that it's the job of a family to accept its offspring. I began to question why I was feeling gratitude- if I was born this way and didn’t choose it, why should I be grateful for acceptance? If someone with brown hair is born into a family of blondes, should they feel grateful for not being turned out of the house? As a fiery young idealist, this thinking eventually brought me around to anger at those who don’t accept LGBT individuals, regardless of their reasoning.
Queer happens, get with the times.
As my wise friend Jacob Tobia once shared, “We’re here, we’re queer, we’re fabulous- don’t fuck with us.”