A Load Off My Shoulders

Believe it or not but I'm not gone – times have been rough for me, that's all. I wrote this to get back into shape and as a little exercise in first-person writing.

For reference if you want it, this takes place a couple weeks after L Is For Love.

Get ready for a lot of monologuing.

Six ten PM and dinner is served here in the Sharp residence.

I sit down at my usual spot at one of the long sides of the table. Opposite of me sits Simon, my six-year-old brother, playing on his handheld gaming console. I look at his face tilted down to the screen, tongue out and pressed to the corner of his lips in peak concentration with buttons clicking rapidly. I don't understand how he gets so absorbed in those games: the garble of button clicks alone grate on me.

''Put your game away Simon. It's time to eat.'' Dad said. I hear in the grumble in his voice that he's just as annoyed with the sounds and the button clicks as I am… probably even more.

Mom comes in with the final pan and starts to give us a serving of red cabbage, then some sweet potato stew and gives Simon, Dad and herself a side of meat – not me: I don't eat meat, well, only sometimes if it comes out of the chicken coup in our backyard where I can be sure that it has a good life; do you know what's going on at factory farms?! I don't want to have a part in that!

We have a moment of silence where Mom folds her hands and whispers a unintelligible prayer. None of us join her, but respect her time before we start eating.

A tipper tapper on the house's stone and wooden floors comes closer: Keno, our dog, comes waddling into the dining room drawn in by the scent of warm food and, big as a breed like a Leonberger is, lays his head on an empty corner of the table. He's well-behaved enough that he won't snatch anything off the table – and bowl everything over while he's at it – but he knows he can always try to beg with his amber eyes, looking around to see whom of us will budge first.

''Heel, Keno.'' Mom says, unmoved: she clicks her fingers and points down to the floor right below her. Keno does as he's told and goes to lay down at Mom's chair. She bends down, gives him a quick pet on his head and whispers: ''Good boy!''

I see Keno's eyes glister: he loves to be told how good he is, but I'm sure he'd rather have had a bite to eat.

Then I look around the table, everything seems normal so far, except that Dad's home to have dinner with us tonight – he's a sports agent and often out for business. He and Mom both start eating their meal, slowly raking their forks through their food to pick a first bite, looking away at any of the room's wall decorations or eyeing their glasses of wine in a painstaking effort to ignore one another despite sitting directly opposite of each other at either head of the table. It's been like this since Mom found out about Dad was cheating on her, and their marriage was already frosty, so she filed for a divorce. Since then, the few dinners we still have with the whole family are usually been like this: silent and cold. At least that's better than the nights they spent shouting at each other. They must've agreed to keep the divorce away from us because Simon and I barely hear anything about it anymore, even two years later. They usually go at it with their lawyers now or mediators or whatever.

At first I was scared, so was Simon: while our parents' arguments rammed through the walls at nights, I found Simon crying in his bed and I crawled in to console him. But I was done being scared when nothing changed – neither Mom or Dad want to move out until their divorce is fully settled. I don't care anymore: when we get news that one parent's going away, so be it. It's almost scary how little it bothers me anymore – Simon seems to have adapted well to the situation too.

''Can I have some water?'' Simon asks, his question breaks the silence.

I take the carafe, which is a tad too heavy for Simon, and lean over the table to pour him a glass. ''Here you go.''

''Thanks!''

I have some myself too and take a big gulp right away: I'm soaking my throat for a big announcement I meant to make for a while now, and tonight is the best time to break it to my family. No need for nerves, I practiced for this. I take a final breath of air, straighten my back and look up from my meal.

''Dad, Mom?'' I ask.

They, as well as Simon, look up from their food and seem surprised with this formal address; there's barely any talking at this table anymore. These days, family time means being around your family while you mostly have your head bowed over your own plate of food until you're done and then you leave – all in silence. Once, Mom wanted dinnertime to be the moment where the family talks about their day, but that ideal of hers is long gone and everyone's used to it now. Still, I have their attention and it's going according to plan.

''I need to tell you all something important.'' I stand up and rest my hands on the table as I further raise my family's curiosity, as well as Keno's. Here it goes, just like I rehearsed: ''I'm… I'm…''

My head goes into lockdown. I notice that I'm stuttering, sounding like a broken record until my speech stalls completely. I feel a trembling starting in my chest and my mouth is slightly agape. If they listen closely, they can hear a quiet creak being the only thing coming out of my throat. My family's interest dazes and I must look like I got a sudden flash of amnesia – I'm feeling the part too.

''You're what?'' Dad asks. He's the first to break eye contact for a bite of food.

It gets awkward: I slump back into my chair and bury my head into my shoulders. I wander my gaze over the table before I hastily reach for my glass. ''I'm… getting a lemon slice!- for, my water!''

They give me stupefied look, and I don't blame them. I'm failing hard to play it cool: I stand back up again and feel my mouth swirl into a sheepish, awkward grin with beads of sweat trickling out of my reddened forehead. Simon and my parents' lasting gaze further mortify me as I leave the table in a stilted waddle, restraining myself to flat-out run away to escape this situation. I get out of sight of my family and then hurry into the kitchen. I look over my shoulder and feel the inner tension slowly dwindle, knowing they haven't come after me. I need some alone time because that was brutal!

The first thing I do is going for the counter and cranking open the tap full blast to splash a hand of water into my face. Then I rub my forehead and my neck to wash away the anxiety sweat still pouring out. I turn the water back off, wipe the moisture off my face and idly look out of the window: glowering, annoyed with myself. It's supposed to be so simple; I didn't even think I needed to practice for so long as I did! All I have to break to my family is a simple two-word announcement about myself, but it ended up sounding like I got stage fright like a rookie musician and that for a crowd of only three people!

Out of the fridge I take a slice of melon and squeeze it into my glass. With the handle of a spoon, I stir it until the juice has dissolved into the water to the point of only giving it a faint, yellow hue – It's not how you're supposed to prepare lemon water, but I don't care right now. I sit at the kitchen table and taste the lemon's tang while I think of what I just tried to do, cringing again at the botched attempt. I pinch the bride of my nose and sigh deeply. The others made it sound so much easier to come out…

I am a lesbian – I knew for sure since I was twelve. I realized I was crushing on my best friend, Madeline or 'Mazzy'. She didn't return the feelings, but let me down easy. We're still good friends – we even started a band together with another friend of Mazzy's: Sully. Looking back, I'm super grateful Mazzy wanted to stay friends with me and didn't go around bullying or publicly outing me. From that point on, I've developed my view on my orientation by reading blogs and experiences. In freshman year of high school, I also became one of the founders of the Sapphic Society – originally meant to be named the Lesbian League, but the principal didn't find it inclusive enough – where we further talk about queer advancement in school and society at large and share stories. It made me a cornerstone to the school's queer community, if I'm allowed to say so myself.

But… the club knows I'm attracted to girls – obviously –, the school staff, my friends and bandmates and the people on the blog of my own I've started since then… and no one else besides them – not even the people having dinner with me right now. It's not like that I'm not comfortable with my orientation – no way! I'm one of the most outspoken members of the Society! Except, you know, just at the club.

So that's why I intended to come out to them tonight, the best night for a long time I can do it: Dad has to catch a plane in a few hours and Mom goes to a club after dinner. It gives them time and space to let my coming-out sink in while I can be alone with Simon and explain everything he doesn't understand – although he's a pretty smart kid. I expect Mom and Dad to lash out at me at least, but I don't want them to make Simon hate me because of their bias!

But now I'm sitting here and I feel like my face is falling. I've spent days mentally readying myself, practicing the conversation in front of the mirror and even having Mazzy and Sully roleplay as my parents! I kept every possible reaction of my parents in mind, all for tonight so why did I chicken out? Am I still subconsciously scared of how they'll react or do I maybe not want to burden them with it while they're already having a divorce going on? I don't know what it is, but I'm starting to think it was all a big waste of time…

Why did I ever get that letter?

It was a love letter, a confession to someone having a crush on me: signed Luna Loud. I was surprised, not just with someone having the hots for me, but it being Luna. I never really noticed Luna before I got her note, I didn't even know Luna is queer: she isn't in the Sapphic Society and I think it's not polite to make serious guesses of one's sexuality you don't know. We did talk music a few times with the rest of the band – she has great taste. Though, I noticed Luna raves on when talking about music, but got a flustered stutter when she talked to me directly. I should've known she had the hots for me.

For the first time tonight, I swoon… I still have that love letter.

I take small sips of my drink as I think back when Luna approached me, at the end of the day I got her letter. But she was so endearing as she stood before me: shaking on her legs from nerves, head red as a strawberry and her mumbling voice quivering when she asked about it – she must've gathered all her courage to talk to me! How could I say no to this cute girl? The first thing I learned about her is that there's obviously two sides to 'Lunes': we took her into our band – she's a great guitarist and vocalist – and on stage, Luna's a born performer who gets the audience jumping on her lively attitude alone, but just by herself she's actually rather timid: get a little intimate like a quiet purr in her ear or a subtle flirt when we're alone and she gets all bashful. I crack a slight smile and feel fluttery; that's the cutest thing about her! The two of us have been to the movies and a few music outings together, nothing serious – we barely even call them dates. Luna clearly likes to take it slow between us, as if she gets anxious at the idea of having a girlfriend. She's even antsy to call me like that yet, preferring to say I'm her 'lady' instead.

Later, Luna invited me over to meet her family a few weeks ago and it was kind of overwhelming; I remember seeing a few of Luna's older sisters at school but I never knew she had ten in total, and a brother along with it! I giggle inwardly, remembering how all of them were dying to get to know me – Luna almost had to fight them off! Then they invited me for dinner: I never knew thirteen people plus me could somehow fit at one table with elbow room to spare!

I compare dinner with Luna's kin to the meal I'm having with my quiet, cold family that's rarely together anyway. I'm warmly welcomed to eat and acknowledged as Luna's squeeze while I wouldn't dare bringing Luna over right now and definitely not introduce her as my girlfriend! For a long time, I'd have been fine just staying in the closet until I move out and avoid the drama, but Luna made me change my mind: I can't have a serious relationship while keeping my orientation a secret from my parents. I've read of the horror stories of queer people in the closet being blackmailed with being outed to their family, and they're not pretty. I didn't fully realize it until I started going out with Luna that one random person has to see me being slightly too queer and I can be in a lot of shit – I'm kind of safe at school but the neighborhood is a big coup of gossipy hens!

Luna offered to come here to help me break it to my family. It was so kind of her, but I have to do this alone: with all the tension in the house from their ongoing divorce, I'm sure they'd completely freak out!

I hear that familiar sound of nails scratching on floors again, getting louder the closer it gets. I get nervous for a second – stupid as it sounds – that it could be Dad, Mom or Simon checking up on me during my much needed alone time… until Keno peeks his head into the kitchen with a curious tilt.

''What's up Keno…'' I take another sip of my drink and rest my head on my arm.

He must be here for some water too; his bowl is by the door to the backyard. Instead, he slowly approaches and stands still right in front of my chair, wagging his tail with his that curious stare trained up to my half-lidded glance – he seems to notice how I'm slouched over on the table. He makes a few ginger steps towards me, I see a certain expectation in his eyes and I turn around and reach out my hand to pet him but without warning, Keno starts climbing into my lap! I have just enough time to put my drink away on the table or it'd have fallen to the ground.

''Whoa- Keno!- heel!'' I have to keep myself from shouting or else the others will hear, but we're not on the couch like normal; this wobbly chair isn't big enough for both of us: Keno puts just his front paws on me and the weight of the lug's body gently leaning into me almost pushes me to fall over! I try to get him back down but I'm not helping myself by giggling in delighted surprise and petting Keno more than I mean to push him off of me, but the dog is brighter than anyone thinks at first glance and puts his front legs back on the floor. I give a lopsided grin at Keno, who sits down and stares at me, panting with his tongue out as if nothing happened. None of us could've known that puppy we found in the backyard years ago would end up the size of a calf, but you love him all the same!

Now I feel a little more relaxed… my shirt and pants are covered in dog hair but I'm still relaxed. I bend forward and give Keno a quick kiss on his snout and a rub through his mane.

''Good job, you big oaf!'' I mumble into his ear as he gives me a lick back.

I stand up and take my drink. I figure it's time to go back to the table before my parents or Simon wonder where I went, though I already notice getting stressed the moment I turn back into the dining room and seeing my family back at the table – Keno following me sadly doesn't reassure me much. I seriously hope they won't bring up what happened just now. My gait stiffens again when they shoot me a quick look, but go on with eating in silence right after: it becomes a dinner like usual again. I sit back at my spot, the food in front of me barely touched. It stands out compared to the well-eaten meals of my family and quickly shove a few forkfuls into my mouth; I really don't want to put any attention on myself to help my family further forget that awful moment just now. I better forget about coming out anyway; I blew my one shot.

A bite of sweet potato is taken, then another with some cabbage. The bites get smaller until I just prod into my cabbage. I don't have much of an appetite tonight: my stomach's empty but my head remains full, thinking of what lead up to my failed coming-out.

A while ago at the Sapphic Society, we shared our coming-out stories: all of the others have come out to their parents, except for me. I lied about it at first, but people tell me I'm a bad liar. It was pretty embarrassing to come clean with them, but the others didn't judge– that'd be hypocritical – and encouraged me to still do it. That's what we found the club for after all.

However, the club says it, so do the comments on my blog and my friends parrot the same thing. I even went to the McBrides, a gay couple with their adopted son living further down the street, to get the same advice: come out to your parents. I'm happy that they're so quick to encourage me, but none of them really know who my parents are.

I look over to my left to my father, Jeremy: a spoon in one hand and tapping his phone with the other. It's a surprise that he's having dinner with us at all, because these days he's usually out for work. Dad is a man of ambition: his home office is decorated with awards and references to his successful clients. I sense he likes to show off to the world how successful he is with his expensive car or our stylishly-furnished house here at Stepford Drive in the well-off part of Royal Woods, bragging how he has paid for both 'by his damn self with money to spare'.

Dad's not just ambitious for himself, once he tried to get me into sports, putting me on soccer at the age of six – I didn't like it much and all the training he made me do and how pushy he was killed the little interest I did have. I lasted until I was ten years old when I just started dealing harsh tackles to get sent off until the coach thought it was best to dismiss me for good – Dad grounded me for two months. Around the time I quit I found out I really liked making music instead, I was good at it too: I learned to play guitar and bass. I thought it'd make him proud or even 'make up' for not wanting to play soccer anymore, but at our band's first gig, I only saw him disappointed.

Still, Dad likes to make sure the outward image of his family remains as spotless and controlled as his career. I've noticed it the few times when he has had business associates over that he tried to play us off as an ideal, nuclear family that's close-knit as can be, as if we came straight from the fifties. It explains why our house is furnished like that – I don't like it, it's glossy and synthetic. Does he do that to make a good impression on his connections, or because he himself finds it so important? I can't figure that out.

Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure coming out as lesbian doesn't fit his ideal of a perfect daughter either now that his idyllic marriage is failing and especially after I ended his dream of being a manager to his self-raised star athlete. Besides, I have a clue when I hear Dad talk about the McBrides, and him calling them 'that nancy pair and their poof son' is the kindest thing he's ever said about them.

I take another sip of water and gently stir the glass in my grasp when I glower to the other head of the table.

Then there's Nadia, my mother, whom Simon and I got our blond hair from. She's the opposite of my father: I can't remember a day in my life where she had a job or did anything for a living and she doesn't make herself the center of attention. Mom's pretty much a docile housewife who does little besides housekeeping and going to some book clubs or whatever. It's weird that Dad cheated on her, because Mom is the perfect trophy wife to be his 'accessory': domesticated, compliant and I'm pretty sure she'd mindlessly agree to anything he'd tell her. It was all the more a shock to hear Mom lash out at him when she confronted him with his affair and declare a divorce. It was one of the only times in my life I saw her that angry.

I used to be close with Mom like a little kid is supposed to be. She really doted on me and Simon, and she gave me my love for tending to our herb garden and caring for the chickens. I know she makes our beds and cooks our meals and all, and I appreciate that, but I feel like I don't have a connection with Mom.

I also loathe how Mom often pries about me getting a boyfriend. I can't help myself but roll my eyes and emit a grunt in annoyance at the memory of when I had to bring a boy from class home for a project, his name is Roald, and she wouldn't shut up about it for weeks. I hate boys! Doesn't she see that?! Some days I can even barely stand to be around Sully! Simon is the only boy in my life who gets a pass and even then he's pushing it sometimes. Mom keeps asking about boyfriends or implying I should get one, but she's so dim to even the most obvious signs, it's like she doesn't even know lesbians exist. Last year when the Sapphic Society was founded, I showed her the poster we made for it. 'Sapphic' is a rare word, I grant her that, but to anyone who isn't a hermit, it should've been obvious from the pride colors that I was basically coming out to her already, but her only reaction was a puzzled 'what's it about?'. It was genuine confusion, and getting mad at her would ruin the moment so I winged an excuse and said it was a rock and mineral club… which probably only left her more confused but she still bought it.

I rest my head on my perched arm and sigh as my eyes dart both left and right. If I had any other pair of parents, I'd have felt safe to come out years ago. One parent will likely give me a disdained scoff at best whilst the other one is so heteronormative she may not even know lesbians exist! Who needs homophobes in their life when you have parents like these?

I growl quietly, as if to vent a flare of anger that's begun simmering. Just as my grip tightens enough that I could crush my glass of water, I feel a furry mass gently press against my boots: Keno went to lay down at my feet. He did not do that without reason. I swear, that dog can sense distress! But this time, Keno's of no help. I put my glass down a little too hard, sounding a muffled bang on the tabletop that makes my family jolt slightly.

I start thinking of Luna and her loving family that cheers her on to be her honest self! My friends at the Sapphic Society whom don't have to put up a sham and can go out on 'official' dates and to events and I hate to say that I'm so jealous of them! Why don't I deserve that freedom too to go out, express myself as lesbian and walk hand in hand with my girlfriend in public without being afraid of having to answer for it?! I can't risk someone seeing me being queer all because I'm afraid my intolerant parents will find out somehow at the threat of getting sent to conversion camps or being kicked to the curb – I can't even feel safe in my own house without acting like someone I don't like to be! It is so tiresome: why did I ever end up being a lesbian?!

Wait- I jolt in shock realizing what I just bemoaned. Did I just start to despise myself for being born with this orientation? That isn't right, nothing of this is: I'm not supposed to hate myself for what I'm born with due to being suffocated with it! My hands ball into fists, and I'm ready to smash them on the table, or on the wall – anywhere to vent because I'm seriously about to pop out of my skull!

''Say, Sam?'' Mom says, out of nowhere.

I see Mom pour herself a second glass of wine before making eye contact with me. I can safely bet she's going to make some forced small talk. Instinctively I loosen my fingers and tilt my head back up to put up the mellow and pleasant demeanor, as always…

''Yes?'' I say out of the corner of my mouth, just above it being a hiss.

''How's Roald doing? I haven't heard you talk about him for a while now.''

I see the expectant look in her eyes and I roll my head with a vocal, irritable moan: this 'boy talk' again? Right now?!

''No Mom, because I only talked to Roald because I had to for a science project!'' I sneer. Mom's visibly upset by my outburst – meanwhile, Simon and Dad subtly keep to the side of our conflict. ''So before you start saying that I should go on a date with him: stop it God damn it!''

''Sam! Watch your language!''

I'm livid. I lean on the table, towering over her and Keno scampers away from my feet. ''I'm not going to date some rando because my mom pushes me to get hooked up with a boy, talk about embarrassing! Don't you ever think that if I was interested in boys that I'd have hooked up with one already? Hasn't it got through to you yet, Mom? I'ma lesbian!''

Both my parents and Simon freeze to eye me and Dad almost choked on his last sip of wine to boot. For a beat, I wonder why they're looking at me like that until my eyes widen and I feel myself stiffen when it hits me like a mallet.

I did not just say that!

The anger fades instantly, the rant is immediately forgotten and I sit back right in my chair, trying to act like nothing happened. ''Sorry! I'm-'' I try to string an apology together for my outburst, but I can't string a coherent sentence together.

I didn't practice for this, or planned it: it was a spur of the moment that let it slip out! I look at them and I don't know what I'm supposed to be reading off of my parents' faces. Confusion? Shock? Disgust? Definitely shock but their expressions could be any of that and more! For the first time tonight, they actually make eye contact with each other, probably hoping their significant other can make something of me. Simon raises an eyebrow, just puzzled. I wish I could feel as casual as him now: I feel like a flash of heat in my body pours sweat out of my neck and forehead again; my face feels hot and I wipe my hands on my pants when my palms get greasy too. My heart races like crazy in my throat and I get a feeling in my stomach like I'm about to make a massive drop in a rollercoaster!

''Yes… uh- I mean- yeah: I'm interested in girls.'' I need all my focus to keep my voice from shaking to affirm my orientation, leave no room for doubt that Mom and Dad possibly misheard me.

''Oh?'' Mom replied quietly, only moving her lips.

''I have a girlfriend too, her name is Luna Loud…'' I fumble. I can't figure out how to explain it further, so I'll instead repeat what it boils down to: ''I'm a lesbian.''

''Aha…'' Dad responds similarly.

No one else talks at the table. I assumed my parents would start berating me in whatever way by now, either that or astonish me with voicing their loving support, but I get nothing – I did take into account that they'd say nothing and just… stare. It starts to feel really awkward and I stand up from my chair.

''Can I be excused?''

I'm not going to wait for an answer. I stand up and take one quick look at my parents: Mom still seems confused but Dad has started to glower, crossing his arms and only granting me a look through the corner of his eye.

''Sam-'' My mother calls after me on a neutral tone, but I'm gone by the time she finishes.

I run up the stairs and do not stop until I'm in my room and slam the door shut behind me. I press my back against the door. My chest is going up and down from the heavy breaths I take and the adrenaline rushing through my system. What have I done?! I'm not sure if I'm going to puke or I feel a panic attack coming up. When I feel like I'm getting a grip on myself again, I collapse on my desk chair and put a hand to my head, further processing this past minute until I crack a weak but blissful smile through the slowed panting: it was super sloppy but I did it! After all this planning and preparation it was one quick impulse that did it for me, I can hardly believe it!

I spin towards my desk and put up 4 Non Brunettes, one of my favorite band, on my speaker. The volume goes high up and I lean back to enjoy the sounds and the moment. Then my laptop starts up and I and browse to Trippr to update my blog because I have a lot to share! As I ponder of how to start off the post, I'm still not sure if I have just made a huge mistake or not, but I set this in motion and there's no turning back. The initiative is with them how to respond to it – I expect them to break down this door to give me a piece of their mind. I'm just glad to have asserted my right to live my life as myself.

I shake my shoulders, I feel light and free now that I've shook off this burden. There's a blank spot on the wall above my bed where I imagine a big pride banner would look really neat!

I sure hope that didn't come off as corny, or preachy… it might be obvious anyway that this isn't my finest piece, but I'm glad it brought me back in a writing flow again. Next thing I'm going to figure out is which story of mine I should continue with first. Which one would rather see updated, Mono No Aware, Forced Staycation or In Deep?

Thank you for your time and I hope you'll continue to enjoy my writing!

:D,
-Q.W.