Three weeks ago I told my mom and sister that I was gay. They had both come down to visit me for my birthday. When I tell people that I "came out" to them, they automatically assume that it must have been dramatic or life-changing, but it really wasn't. I didn't expect it to be. I knew that they didn't care and would love me no matter what, which makes me lucky, I guess. I feel privileged, in a way. My family may have its share of issues, but I'm proud to claim what not many other gay people can--love and acceptance from my family.
I haven't told anyone outside my immediate family, but to be honest, I don't really care if they know or not. I mean, if they find out, they find out, but that's not a big concern of mine. I've reached the point in my life where I'm not accountable to anyone but myself and God. I'm the first person in my immediate family to go to college, and only one of a handful out of my gigantic scope of cousins. My parents aren't helping me with tuition or housing or food. In the natural sense of things, I practically forged this path for myself.
But I can't and don't take all the credit, by any means. God is ultimately the reason I'm in college, and furthermore, He's the reason I'm on the path that I'm on. Assuming I was the only governing factor in the succession of events that brought me where I am today would be egotistical.
On the flip side of things, the school year is dwindling down to a mere two weeks: one full week of classes and one week of finals. The more I think about it, the more nervous I get about this summer. I need to find a job, and quickly. I know myself too well... If I procrastinate any longer, summer will be here before I know it and I'll be jobless still. Can't let that happen. I want to find a job waiting tables where I can bank on tips. That's probably my best plan of action.
Stargazing cabaret is tonight. I'm sure everyone will have a good time, since the majority of people will be high out of their minds or drunk off their asses, or both.
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