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My Story.

momoman

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Hey everyone, It's been a rather long time since I was last here. In my absence, I have gained a year and a boyfriend. The Just Us Boys Forum served as my refuge during the times of turmoil and indecision in my life, and for that I will always be grateful to DonQuixote, and especially to TimWhite07 after reading his story on Nifty a few years ago. I emailed Tim to thank him. So it is for this reason, that I present my latest "story". What's different this time is that it's completely true.

Due it being a work of this nature, it doesn't follow the 'usual' chronological form. It is rather eclectic in places, but that is, what I think makes it special. Enjoy.



My Story - The Recent Past

I was playing Grand Theft Auto. Today had been the last day of the school term, and it was now the Easter Break. Man, was this in-game Mission a hard one, I was losing my temper, so I decided to turn on the stereo, plug in my iPhone and play some music to distract myself. There was a rattle, as my Mother let herself in the house. ‘Hi, how was your day?’ I asked, still thumbing the controller aggressively.

‘Good, was a little busy but I’m glad to be home,’ she replied. This was the basic structure of our conversations when one of us got home after the other. I paused the game and walked into the kitchen to make myself a snack. ‘I spoke to June today,’ she began. I nodded in reply, as the edge of a Maggi-noodle packet was in my mouth so that I could open it.
.

There was no reason to panic really, well, at least I thought so. Whenever my Mother came home from Work, she’d begin with a rant about her day. These typically featured the people she’d talked to and the bad customers she’d had to deal with on the phones and how stressed she was because of it. There was nothing out of the ordinary to indicate that everything I knew, as well as my life, would completely flip over in a matter of minutes.
.

My mind was eighty-percent focused on the noodle packet-edge clamped between my teeth, only twenty percent was focused on my mother’s ramblings. Disrespectful? Maybe, but her daily whining about her workplace took its toll after a while. I was also excited. This holiday, I would finally get to see my idol -- Lady Gaga -- live in concert in Melbourne. I was going with some friends from school. In the group, there would be a few girls from school, myself and one other guy from my school who my friend.

‘She told me today...That the group of friends you’re going with...They’re all girls’ she said hesitantly. I jumped to my friend’s defense. ‘They’re not all girls, there’s one other guy,’ I said, still preparing my noodles. I hadn’t even lit the stove yet.
.

‘Let me rephrase. That other guy is extremely effeminate.’ I froze, noodle cake in my hands. I was just about to dunk it in the water, when I placed it back down on the table and spun to face her in the kitchen, losing all pretenses. I snatched the remaining muesli bar from my Lunchbox, and returned to the couch. I picked up the controller and resumed the game. I needed a distraction, as this conversation was heading in an extremely dangerous direction.
.

You see, I had, for some time, contemplated coming out of the closet. I was sick to death of it. Almost literally. I’d hated the suicidal thoughts, and these were the catalyst behind my endless scheming and over-analysis of my situation. I’d come up with responses and structures surrounding every single situation in which the issue could be raised by myself or my Mother...except this one.
.

‘Benjamin,’ she began. I blinked, shutting down my automatic emotional reaction in a second. I’d become adept at this very thing whenever my parents argued when I was younger. In the beginning I would cry and cry, until I fell asleep. But now, it was almost too easy to ignore my emotions and place a smooth poker face over whatever was roiling inside me. ‘You’ve never had a girlfriend.’ Inside, I flinched. Here it was. My face didn’t betray me in the slightest.

‘So?’ I asked. Big mistake.

‘All the girls, when I’ve asked you about them whether on TV...at school...in movies..’ she continued.

‘And?’ I snapped, my eyes narrowing.

‘You’ve said they’re all slutty, bitchy, or that you don’t like them,’ she said. I just nodded, I was nearing tears. My heart was beating so fast, I was surprised that my Mother couldn’t hear it. ‘And now this Lady Gaga concert...with that effeminate guy, and all those girls…..’ I could sense it... I could physically smell the question in the air. I swallowed, loudly, and I winced visibly. ‘Are you Gay?’ she demanded.
.

My mind was whirring somewhere around 7200rpm. In three seconds, I’d thought of a thousand different responses. In the end, I settled with…
.

‘Yeah.’ Wow, what a climactic end to the months and years of hiding my secret. I was so unprepared. I’d planned to come out when I moved out, after University and after I’d gotten my dream job in New York City. A fantasy, I know. You can’t have everything in life. And here was when it all went wrong. I backpedaled a little. ‘Well, I think so,’ I said.

She was still, ‘What do you mean - “You think so”?’ She asked quietly.

‘Well, when I look at women, there’s no desire there...and when I look at Men…..well...’ I finished. She was silent for a whole twenty seconds.
.

‘WHY!?’ she suddenly shouted. I jumped about a foot in the air, but she was so beyond noticing anything but herself at the time. I recomposed myself, and waited. ‘If there was a test...that I could’ve done...when I was pregnant...I would’ve...I WOULD’VE…’

She didn’t finish that, but I was two steps ahead of her, I knew what she would’ve finished with: ‘I would’ve aborted you’. I’ll admit it - that cut deep. Talk about being cut the fuck down. I felt that danger point coming close again. Here I was, trying to be proud of myself for once. I was trying to get out of the dark place that I’d been in for…. how long had I even been down in that black hole? And the one person, who I thought I could always trust, had just betrayed me. Had I pretended well enough? Were my casual “Eh, She’s OKAY looking,” comments blasé enough?

‘Everyone in the family was right!’

Throughout the years, at various times, an Aunt or Uncle had cast aspersions upon my sexuality. One such time was Good Friday when I was in Year 8. I was listening to my iPod on the couch at my Grandmother’s house, when I paused my Music with a desire to get some food from the table. I heard my Grandmother, Aunt and two other relatives discussing my sexuality. ‘I’m NOT Gay!’ I’d said. There we have it, big mistake #2.


I flinched again. Mother had always come to my defense when my uncles, aunts and other relatives had speculated over my sexuality. I thought I had walled myself off against anything, when ‘it’ came. ‘You’re not Benjamin anymore, you’re different. Don’t call me “Mum.”

That was it for the wall, it was down, reduced to a pile of dust at my feet. The emotion hit me like a sack of bricks falling from the top of a Manhattan skyscraper. I dropped the controller and stood up. I’d completely forgotten to pause the game. My face was still the serene mask I had adopted throughout the confrontation, but it was taking a herculean effort to keep it there. I walked to my bedroom, closed my door as softly as I could, and fell on my bed. Here, I let the misery wash over me. I cried.
 
This is an interesting start, one that must must have a familiar ring to many of your readers who will have gone through the turmoil of becoming adults.
 
Hi Momonman,

Just as Autolycus said. this story feel so familiar with your reader, the situation happen if not exactly the same but in similar . I believe this is the step one must gone through on the wait to adulthood. congradulation of gainning a boyfriend and out of the closet. I look forward to your future development. thank you for sharing.

Andrew
 
A very heartfelt episode, mo. I hope that Y'all will continue to share with us.
 
Such familiar emotions and despair that so many of us have gone through. I am happy to hear you have survived and have gained the wisdom and power over your life. Family can be extremely tricky when it comes to realizing that we are who we are and not, as my older sister said to me, "are you the brother we thought you were or something different." Fortunately, I have adjusted and made amends with her, as has she with me. I look forward in reading your story, feeling that it has a positive outcome, especially with a boyfriend tossed in the works.....

Craiger
 
Hello again, and thank-you all for the feedback. As I said, this is a departure from my preferred genre of story-writing, so I'm glad it's 'going down well'. It's a rather difficult story to write, as I am dredging up some things that I have spent many years repressing. I feel as though I need to write this down in order to finally drop it and move on.

Recent Past, Pt. 2​


I lay, remembering my childhood. Well, the parts that were less painful anyway. At first the happy moments, the ones most easily remembered, swam to the surface and abated the endless storm that I seemed to be in the thick of. Despite my current mood, I smiled ruefully to myself. I turned my head slightly to the left on my pillow and glimpsed my two stuffed toys, seemingly gazing at me in worry. The ensuing round of hysteria frightened me more than the aspect of telling my mother my sordid secret. Ordinarily, you would assume that this kind of thing would’ve comforted me at such a time. Normally, it would have. My black mood however, dredged up memories that I had endeavored to forget over time.
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My father had never been anything close to a father. He left us when I was three, and continued to attempt parenting over a telephone line. Of the times I spent around him, I can’t remember a single one where he and my Mother didn’t fight something terrible. I’d clutch the very same stuffed animals close to my chest and sob into them until it all went away. There was one encounter that stood out vividly in my mind. I was just ten years of age, and during a particularly violent argument, I was sobbing once more into my two stuffed animals. A deafening crash rent the silence. Suddenly the man whom I trusted, my own father, was holding me up by my neck a foot from the floor. He seemed to have kicked open my bedroom door. ‘Don’t you ever let that bitch call me a bad man. Got me?’ He screamed. Unable to breathe, I spluttered my compliance. Dropping me, he left, not just my room but our lives once more.
.

I sobbed if possibly harder than I had before. I was thinking, hoping really that my Mother wouldn’t betray her only son, and tell my Father that I was Gay. My father had always assumed I was “a Faggot”. I know now he was just adding insult to injury, portraying my Mother as an unfit single-parent because she had a Gay son. Little did he know he was dead right. In amongst the crying I pushed all the memories away and began to wonder whether it really was all his fault that I was Gay. Whether or not I was Gay because he’d left and I had spent my entire childhood in female company, with no male influence whatsoever. At school, my Mother constantly hoped and pushed for me to have a Male teacher. Personally, I couldn’t think of anything worse. An authority figure who would intimidate and terrify me, like my very own father whom I had been without for years...I was petrified by the very thought.
.

Amidst all this internal turmoil, there was a diminutive ray of happiness inside my heart. I had finally acknowledged my sexuality, and I had no excuse to hide anymore. Instead of crying more, I began to quieten. Pulling my two stuffed animals toward my chest for the first time in more than ten years, I closed my eyes. Things had to be good again, didn’t they? It might seem pathetic to some, but these two stuffed animals had seen me through the best and what had seemed the worst of my life. I held on, and let my mind wander. Things would get better, they just had to.
 
Another penetrating episode. I find your writing profoundly moving. Thank-you for sharing.
 
Hey guys, thanks for the feedback! I have the new chapter typed up and I just need to go over it and I'll send it along :).
 
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