Saturday 15 February 2014

Another brave person coming out? The dream is that people don’t have to come out and it isn’t an issue someone says that they like smashing their bits into/against the bits of people who have the same bits.

Reality isn’t a dream – despite the propaganda of Hollywood – and we do still live in a shitty world where an internationally successful actor is afraid to be open about her homosexuality.

I think because she is young and often plays sassy characters I didn’t think Ellen Page should have problems. Earth to me: life isn’t easy because you play sassy women with a nice line in put-downs. I still didn’t want to think it was a big story, it shouldn’t be a big story. Let’s just get on with it – lets not stare at her. Only she did do it on a stage where she was being filmed.

I certainly didn’t see why it should be something to get wound up in it. And then I was on the verge…nearly… I didn’t cry…hey, come on – waiting to become a parent is an emotional experience. But, yes, I found it quite moving as Ms Page confirmed she was homosexual and talked about why she had hidden it at the Human Rights Campaign. Come on, it was clearly a big thing for her and when she gets to the point where she says it and they all applaud…Niagra Falls, Frankie.

I think I was a bit caught out when I found out my brother was gay. I didn’t quite handle it with the class of the dad who wrote the letter to his son about getting some orange juice. I don’t actually really remember too much about what happened. I remember that my reaction was misunderstood by my mum at some point which upset me. I remember that my sister kind of told me when she said there was some news I would be getting at christmas, it was early December, and I thought she was pregnant. And then she said she wasn’t pregnant and I guessed the news with my next guess.

I am good at quizzes. I clearly knew already. I also didn’t really care. I was also told not to say anything and wait for my brother to tell me himself. So I got very drunk and sent him some text messages telling him I didn’t give a shit because I loved him no matter what. I probably thought I was pretty great. Of course, looking back I robbed him of something he probably wanted to achieve: telling me himself in his own time.

Maybe I didn’t rob him of anything. Who knows? Not me. Because we never talked about it. Yep, I’m a pretty shit big brother. If it makes me look any better, clue: it doesn’t, I don’t ask him about anything so it’s not because of that.

What do I do? I make occasional jokes about it. Not in the 1970s way. In the ‘you think you’re clever my being a bit post-modern and saying things that you know people aren’t supposed to say’ way. I do that about a lot of things, I am trying to do it about less things all the time.

The worst thing about it is the notion that I love him in spite of his sexuality. It’s not relevant and I wanted him to know that and would hate for him to think that anything was in spite of him being gay. I love him in spite of his personality, that much is true.

He doesn’t read this blog, they don’t read do they? SEE! That kind of ‘joke’. Ha! My brother won’t be reading this so it makes no sense for me to confirm, should he need it, that I love him. I even occasionally like him. The fact that I don’t give a fuck about him being gay is only the same fuck – well a different, but not better or worse, fuck – I don’t give that my sister is heterosexual.

If my brother is reading this I do have a message: I love you and am proud of you Ellen Page.

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