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One Week Out of the Closet


I’ve only been out of the closet for a week and the reactions I’ve had from people have been 100% blog-worthy. Some of you may have caught the original blog before I had to edit it for reasons that I cannot disclose. If this is the case, it’ll all make perfect sense to you. However, if you’ve read the edited version, I’ll try to bridge the gaps as best as I can.

The Old Man

I kinda figured Dad wouldn’t take the news badly, but the one thing I’ve learnt with my family is to expect the unexpected. So, on Sunday night, when the blog which revealed my Lebanese lifestyle was live, I sent it to him. I could almost guarantee that because I needed him to read (for reasons that I cannot disclose) he wouldn’t read it.

I was sitting in the middle of a packed Harvester with a rib in one hand and a chip in the other when he rang. He’d be the first to tell me that I shouldn’t be on the phone whilst I’m eating, but given the situation, I emailed him saying I’d call back within the hour. Twenty minutes later and he rang again. Still not a good time; by this point, I was pretty much head to toe in barbecue sauce and surrounded by chicken wings. Yes, I’m a very messy eater. Ten minutes later when I was on the way back home, he rang again. As I said, expect the unexpected. I’d started to believe he must have been angry at the fact I’d come out or at the way I’d gone about it…

“I need your passport number as a matter of urgency”, he said, before I’d even had chance to say anything. He didn’t hear my reply; “Why, are you going to ship me off to Lebanon?”, which made the conversation a tad more awkward. Anyway, the next morning, when the passport crisis had died down, I received an email simply saying; “Tell them I’ve been a lesbian for forty-six years!” I think it’s safe to say that Dad has no qualms about such a subject.

The Neighbour

When I popped in for a civilised cuppa the other day, my neighbour, who’s a self-confessed straight, horny devil, she announced; “I’d like to try something with you”. Baring in mind, the topic of sex or sexuality hadn’t arisen, it took me a second to catch up. Although, I should know by now that she has a one-track mind. Once I explained to her that just because I like girls, it doesn’t mean I like all girls, and as much as I love her, I consider our relationship to be strictly platonic, she went quiet for a minute, She then stated that she thought I’d be up for it and asked if she could ring my bell. I have a feeling this will be a reoccurring line of questioning. I adore my neighbours. In seven years there’s never been a dull moment.

The Old Dear

Due to Mum being a technophobe, she doesn’t read my blogs, so I went to visit her on Friday to ‘break the news’. The one is tricky because I can’t predict her reaction to anything and sometimes, I think it depends on which way the wind blows. I broached the conversation by talking to her about the thing that I cannot disclose. Seeing as though she lives in the Dark Ages, she has only learnt how to switch the TV on so she can watch Inspector Morse, my plan fell at the first hurdle as I had to start from scratch. I then went on to say that I was going to find a hot chick, to which she merely responded; “Okay”. On this basis, I can make one of three assumptions; she didn’t hear me, she didn’t grasp what I was telling her, or it made no difference to her either way.

A week out of the closet came with interestingly varied reactions to say the least.

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