#my whole middle school friend group? queers even if they weren't at the time

[karmaphone]

it's so funny watching as an adult as every one of my childhood friends realizes they're gay or trans

[nyrhtak04]

One Week In

This is quite the rant, so bear with me. I'm using this post to process what happened.

So I go to a small, Christian, liberal-arts-heavy university. Most of my friends are queer, and all of us are neurodivergent. My brother was the token cishet neurotypical friend (as far as we know, anyway).

Some of us formed a movie-watching group. A lot of us grew up sheltered in one way or another (missionary kids and/or homeschoolers, restrictive parents, etc.) and so those who weren't decided to show us movies they liked but we hadn't seen. Also, we just wanted to laugh at dumb, campy movies like Twilight.

So by Friday of the first week of school, we had watched Twilight and Lisa Frankenstein, and some of us were in the middle of Totally Killer.

On Thursday, I drove my brother and some of my friends (all girls) to a small indie rock concert. We all had a great time, and we got to meet the band members and get pictures and signatures. They shouted us out onstage; it was awesome.

On the way home, we were all screaming about how hot the lead guitarist (a woman) was. We meant it in the aesthetic sense; even our straight friend was gushing about her. My brother was quiet.

I was only out to my queer friends. Up until this point, whenever he was with the group, we didn't usually talk about "gay stuff" since we weren't sure how he would react. And up until this point, he had never said anything. I was the only person in our group who could tell he disapproved, and even then, he only looked vaguely uncomfortable.

Friday lunch, we were all sitting together talking about the concert, what movies to watch next, and stuff like that. Some of my friends brought up that the band's lead guitarist dressed bi. I knew most of the cues, but the rings were new. This launched a conversation about how bi girls dressed, and our bi friend was cringing the whole time because she hit every stereotype.

As my brother came to sit with us, the conversation changed subjects. One friend may have said something about "never [having] met an aroace person before," but I wasn't sure how my brother interpreted that if he even caught it.

That afternoon, he and I were walking together, and he mentioned that he had looked up the movies my friends had suggested. He referred to said movies as "lesbian propaganda," which made me snort. He advised me against watching those movies, and I humored him. I told him that we could just watch something else. This had proven true in the past since one friend was not a fan of Lisa Frankenstein, and we had agreed to let her choose the movies we watched with her. Let her show us movies.

On Saturday, I called my best friend (who attends a different university) and discussed our first week of school. I was telling them about my friends; it was nice to have queer friends (they're queer, but also my only friend until I moved for college).

After lunch, I headed to the parking garage to drive across campus for a theater activity in which I was involved. As I walked to my car, I got a call from my dad. This wasn't super weird, but I would have expected him to text ahead. I had left lunch a little early, and had about 15 minutes before I needed to be at the activity, so I picked up.

He asked if I "had time to talk." This has never been a good sign, no matter how many times my parents get mad at me for being distrustful. (when have I been wrong about this? It's not pessimism, it's pattern recognition.)

I answered that I had an activity, but had about 10-15 minutes before then. He said that wasn't long enough, and asked when I was done for the day. This was REALLY not a good sign. I told him I had a good chunk of time starting around 4pm. He agreed we could talk then.

I pressed him for the topic of discussion. He eventually admitted that it was about "sexual orientation."

I hung up with him and called my brother. There was no reason my dad would want to talk to me about that unless my brother had said something. He had not spoken to me at all. There was no warning.

He would not tell me what he told our parents. The only response I could get out of him was "You're just going to have to talk to him," over and over.

I hung up on him.

I headed over to the rehearsals, my heart at least 130bpm. I did my best to keep it together, but I wasn't very successful.

All art students at my school are required to attend the art gallery openings (usually showcasing students or alumni). There was an opening that afternoon. I walked around the gallery for a few minutes, and while I could recognize that the show/pieces were beautiful, I couldn't really appreciate it.

I went to my room and called my dad. It was about half an hour before we had agreed to talk. But surely, sooner was better, right?

He was driving and told me that he would call me back "when we agreed" in an unnecessarily aggressive tone. Then he hung up.

At this point, I completely broke down. My roommate and one of our friends found me.

I explained that my brother had told our very queerphobic parents something about me but that I didn't know what he told them. I was terrified that I was going to get disowned.

They assured me that my parents weren't going to kick me out but that if they did, they (my friends) would ensure I had a place to stay over the summer. They assured me that I had family here and that they would take care of me if things went south.

My roommate stayed in the room when I made the call.

My dad started with the usual small talk, how-are-things-at-school deal. Once we were done with the niceties, he asked if I wanted to have this conversation on speaker, since my roommate had been interacting with us during the phone call. (Why wouldn't I? I had no idea where this conversation was going, and I wanted someone who could intervene if the need arose).

Apparently, my brother had told them that I was bisexual. Not because I had shown any interest in girls, but because I didn't hate my queer friends.

My parents had interrogated my sister, who gave up that I was asexual. I think she tried to explain biromantic asexual (since I had not come out to her as aroace; I had just told her that gender was not a consideration for me), but my parents didn't really grasp the concept.

Anyway, long story short, I clarified that I was not bi, but couldn't get out of admitting that I was ace.

My dad was cool with it, mostly. He assured me that whether or not I ever came home with a guy was none of his business.

He's not sure about the label though. Apparently, my mom is demisexual (in the proper sense of the word) (she would balk at the vocabulary though). My dad just thinks I'm like her.

Overall, it went better than I expected. My roommate did not have to intervene but occasionally touched the bedframe to remind me to breathe.

At dinner, I sat with my friends, still visibly distressed. I don't remember how the subject came up, but I decided to fill them in. It seemed appropriate, given that my brother had been talking (lying) about them behind their backs.

They were very upset, on both my behalf and their own. One friend walked over to my brother and told him that she would text him later. "You know what it's about."

After dinner, I went over to the theater event. It went well. My brother attempted to call me multiple times on the way back. I did not pick up, partly because I didn't want to talk to him and just because I was driving.

I went to hang out with the friends who had been accused in the "salem dyke trials." One showed me the text she had sent my brother after dinner. She called him out on his terrible communication skills and for completely taking away my choice in the matter.

We decided to keep watching Totally Killer to take our mind off the afternoon.

I got a call from my dad. I sprinted to go hang out with some other friends, because I could guess the nature of this call.

He asked how the theater event went. I told him. He asked me what I was doing now. I told him I was hanging out with some friends and we were planning to watch TBoSaS (which was true). He asked if the accused friends were there, too. I told him they were not. He asked if I had "told [friend] to text my brother." I had not, but I hadn't stopped her, either.

My brother, upon receiving the friend's text, did not respond to her. He forwarded it to our parents. He proved her point for her.

My dad asked if I had read the text. I played dumb, not sure how he had interpreted it.

He went on this rant about how my friend was manipulating and isolating me. I was astonished. Had we read the same text?

I explained that I wasn't picking up my brother's calls because I was pissed off at him for outing me behind my back. He had not said anything to me before going to them. This had nothing to do with my friend except that he had accused her of trying to turn me gay (or something like that).

My dad told me that my brother wanted to make it up to me. I said that I was not going to speak with him tonight. My dad encouraged me to at least talk to my brother in the morning.

I agreed to this and we hung up.

By this time, TBoSaS was not an option, so I went to hang out with the initial group.

We came up with a game plan for how I would talk to my brother the next day, and generally just verbally processed the situation.

I'll make another post about the next day because this one is already way too long.