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potato_headToday (or rather, checking the time, technically yesterday) was pretty shitty.
I sort of expected it to be; I knew as soon as I got home (1.5-2 hour drive from school) we'd be driving to Pittsfeild (2-2.5 hour drive from home) for my cousin's wedding. I also assumed, since my mom put herself in charge of arranging a formal outfit for me, I would probably be wearing girl's clothes. I basically decided whatever, I'll deal with it for a day and not be in a bad mood over it.
But then I get home and find out mom 'wasn't able' to find my formal shoes. So she bought me some new ones.
Black pumps. With dainty little buckles. Pumps.
Of course I searched the house for my formal shoes, but couldn't find them, even though they were in my closet just a few weeks ago. My sister said she'd seen them in there even later than that. We both suspect mom hid them. So that she could force me to wear pumps.
So my options were wear the pumps or wear my ratty sneakers. Pumps it is. Once I had them on mom asked "what's the matter? Do you hate them?" I wanted to strangle her.
Then, because of our long drive, we didn't get there in time for the ceremony. Mom and dad decided to go straight to the reception, where the staff was still trying to set everything up. They decided this was the perfect time and place to try to get Christmas photos. Yeah. So dad dragged us around the venue - including into places marked 'members only' which I am 100% sure did not include wedding guests - looking for nice backdrops to take pictures of us kids in front of.
Once the reception actually started things got rather better. The food was very good, and I had fun dancing with Paige and Derek (I think I danced pretty good for a white boy in drag, although Paige totally showed me up dancing in her super high heels, and my legs still hurt from overenthusiastic dancing in pumps). And then when we left (finally...it went on a bit long) I went to say goodbye to the bride and she said "it was nice to see you dancing and having fun!" in the most patronizing way possible.
Well. Excuse me? I don't usually spend family gatherings brooding in a corner or something. In fact, I've danced at every wedding reception I've gone to, I think. I'm starting to realize the extended family sees me as the weirdo of the family already. I don't yet know if this makes me more or less likely to bother to come out to them at all, or just break off contact when I start transitioning.
I sort of expected it to be; I knew as soon as I got home (1.5-2 hour drive from school) we'd be driving to Pittsfeild (2-2.5 hour drive from home) for my cousin's wedding. I also assumed, since my mom put herself in charge of arranging a formal outfit for me, I would probably be wearing girl's clothes. I basically decided whatever, I'll deal with it for a day and not be in a bad mood over it.
But then I get home and find out mom 'wasn't able' to find my formal shoes. So she bought me some new ones.
Black pumps. With dainty little buckles. Pumps.
Of course I searched the house for my formal shoes, but couldn't find them, even though they were in my closet just a few weeks ago. My sister said she'd seen them in there even later than that. We both suspect mom hid them. So that she could force me to wear pumps.
So my options were wear the pumps or wear my ratty sneakers. Pumps it is. Once I had them on mom asked "what's the matter? Do you hate them?" I wanted to strangle her.
Then, because of our long drive, we didn't get there in time for the ceremony. Mom and dad decided to go straight to the reception, where the staff was still trying to set everything up. They decided this was the perfect time and place to try to get Christmas photos. Yeah. So dad dragged us around the venue - including into places marked 'members only' which I am 100% sure did not include wedding guests - looking for nice backdrops to take pictures of us kids in front of.
Once the reception actually started things got rather better. The food was very good, and I had fun dancing with Paige and Derek (I think I danced pretty good for a white boy in drag, although Paige totally showed me up dancing in her super high heels, and my legs still hurt from overenthusiastic dancing in pumps). And then when we left (finally...it went on a bit long) I went to say goodbye to the bride and she said "it was nice to see you dancing and having fun!" in the most patronizing way possible.
Well. Excuse me? I don't usually spend family gatherings brooding in a corner or something. In fact, I've danced at every wedding reception I've gone to, I think. I'm starting to realize the extended family sees me as the weirdo of the family already. I don't yet know if this makes me more or less likely to bother to come out to them at all, or just break off contact when I start transitioning.
