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*stabs self in head*
So my mother calls me at work to let me know how things stand with a dinner invitation to the home of a family friend. Quick backstory: we were originally invited for Wednesday, and I told them I'd be delighted to come. Thinking it would be "better" for me on Friday, they switched the days on me, and of course I could no longer attend, since I'm volunteering at the club on Friday and we're short-staffed as it is.
My mother coolly informs me that she told said friend that I wasn't coming because my office was moving and I was working late. "Because," says she, "I couldn't bring myself to tell them that you couldn't come just because you were volunteering at a club."
Gee. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mother.
Every now and then I get these nice little reminders that my mother is ashamed of me. Now she's ashamed to the point of lying to our friends about me. This is a first. Before it was simply lies of omission. Now she's going out of her way to say untruths so that they won't find out that I'm OMG t3h g4y! It's fine if she doesn't want them to know. But she might have at least told them a half-truth. Even saying "Oh, she can't come because she volunteers on Fridays." Or, "She already had plans that couldn't be altered, but she was very disappointed not to be able to see you."
But, no. She had to go hard-core liar on me.
She doesn't approve of the line-dancing, for many reasons. Foremost is of course that it's a gay club. She keeps asking me when I'm going to take "real" dancing lessons. Like, oh, walz or something. I think she's still harbouring some vague hope that by dancing these "real" dances I'll meet the right man that will convert me back to heterosexuality.
She still refuses to admit that I might date girls. In fact, whenever she uses a (hypothetical) example of dating concerning me, she'll invariably partner me up with a fictitious man. I gently correct her each time, but usually it just earns me a withering glare and a "Whatever. That's not the point I'm trying to make!"
No, Mother. It's the point I'm trying to make.
Maybe one day she'll realize I'm probably not going to change. Until then, she's going to do her damndest to shove me back into the closet as hard as she can. My mother is queen of that river in Egypt.
My mother coolly informs me that she told said friend that I wasn't coming because my office was moving and I was working late. "Because," says she, "I couldn't bring myself to tell them that you couldn't come just because you were volunteering at a club."
Gee. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mother.
Every now and then I get these nice little reminders that my mother is ashamed of me. Now she's ashamed to the point of lying to our friends about me. This is a first. Before it was simply lies of omission. Now she's going out of her way to say untruths so that they won't find out that I'm OMG t3h g4y! It's fine if she doesn't want them to know. But she might have at least told them a half-truth. Even saying "Oh, she can't come because she volunteers on Fridays." Or, "She already had plans that couldn't be altered, but she was very disappointed not to be able to see you."
But, no. She had to go hard-core liar on me.
She doesn't approve of the line-dancing, for many reasons. Foremost is of course that it's a gay club. She keeps asking me when I'm going to take "real" dancing lessons. Like, oh, walz or something. I think she's still harbouring some vague hope that by dancing these "real" dances I'll meet the right man that will convert me back to heterosexuality.
She still refuses to admit that I might date girls. In fact, whenever she uses a (hypothetical) example of dating concerning me, she'll invariably partner me up with a fictitious man. I gently correct her each time, but usually it just earns me a withering glare and a "Whatever. That's not the point I'm trying to make!"
No, Mother. It's the point I'm trying to make.
Maybe one day she'll realize I'm probably not going to change. Until then, she's going to do her damndest to shove me back into the closet as hard as she can. My mother is queen of that river in Egypt.