God Hates Fags

A little while ago I wrote about the fact that being a lesbian isn’t the reason why I don’t talk to my family—while that is true from my prospective, sort of, it is the reason why my youngest sister, Jenny, hasn’t written me back in 4 months. That is just something that I know.

You see, almost a year ago I received a college graduation announcement from her. In my pride, I responded by writing her a letter; I also sent the money I had in my wallet. She’s 6 years younger than me, so she was an innocent in the matter that compelled me to break the ties with all my kin. I knew it was a risk making any contact, but it seemed to me a risk worth taking because this was my baby sister’s college graduation and I had missed her high-school graduation. Furthermore, that wasn’t the first time she’d tried contacting me.

She sent me a letter and a card back not long after thanking me. I was careful in my reply: I cautioned her about the position she was putting herself in by staying in touch with me when I refused to communicate with anyone else. Most people don’t want to be in that kind of position, and I don’t blame them. I also made it clear that I wasn’t interested in getting back in contact with anyone else. I asked her to think long and hard about that, and if she still wanted to correspond, I would keep my end of the bargain.

Not long after she sent me a box for my birthday. I waited a month to open it just because I was concerned that opening any door, or gift, would be like opening Pandora’s Box. She sent me a Wonder Woman DVD because it used to be my favorite show when I was young. She sent me a few other things, too, all of them very childish, but sweet.

I wrote her back toward the end of November. She’d asked me about my family that I had mentioned in my first letter, so I took that opportunity to explain to her that my family consisted of my same-sex domestic partner. Basically, I came out to her because one: I refuse to hide that from anyone…and two: I wasn’t sure whether or not she’d been told. Knowing my family, she was not. I also remember seeing on her graduation announcement that the school she’d gone to in Florida had been a Christian school; so, I told her that my sexuality is not an issue in my life—I refuse to make it an issue, and if she, for whatever reason, didn’t want to still talk to me because of that she should just not write me back and I would get the message.

Well, it’s the middle of March and nothing.

It’s funny, but I’m really sort of surprised: I’m so rarely treated poorly, or even differently, because of my sexuality that I sometimes forget that anyone even cares. It seems so ridiculously small-minded to me…especially from someone of her generation.

It’s also funny to me that some people in my life will make excuses for her: she’s young; maybe she’s busy; she’s influenced by her cunt of a mother—my step-mother, who is a closet lesbian, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah…

This is what I think about that: B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T-!

I’m sorry, but she’s 24 years old. She went to school, by herself, on the other side of the country. She has a college degree and is an intern for a major-league baseball team. She’s old enough to know better, and that means there is NO REASON beyond having a problem with my sexuality that would keep anyone, let alone my sister, from writing me back after I came out to them.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while. When January rolled around without a response I knew it wasn’t coming. I’ve modulated between anger, indifference, and sadness. Some good has come out of it: now, whenever I get a letter from anyone, instead of reading it, I will immediately return it to the sender. That’s it: I’m done. And, the guilt that I’ve been hanging onto for all of these years for walking away from them has also been lifted by this. I guess this was the proof that some part of my brain needed. I always knew I’d be treated terribly for being gay, even worse than I already was, but since I hadn’t been because I didn’t give them an opportunity, some part of me always doubted and wondered.

Well, now I know. It hurts a little—okay, a lot when I really top and think about it. It also hurts to think that my younger sister is such a bigot that she can’t even write a letter to her own flesh and blood just because she likes tits and ass…and pussy, let’s not forget that!

Yea, yea, I know: it’s her loss. I don’t want to hear that bloody shit right now. The fact of the matter is that I am disappointed in her. I’m disappointed and ashamed that I am actually related to someone younger than me who would treat anyone poorly because of who they love. I don’t care who she was influenced by because I was influenced by those same people, but I went to school and I changed my mind. I grew and I learned. She is a privileged and educated woman—the opinions that she has now are her own.