It’s no secret that when it comes to Christmas I’m like a little kid. I get all excited usually when December 1st arrives. This year though was different. December 1st arrived and I popped open the first door of my advent calendar to find a Christmas pudding shaped chocolate (yes I still have one!) but I wasn’t excited.
Some angel I munched
I’m blaming work. We’ve had the Christmas trees up in there and hideous Christmas toys that make me want to smash them by driving over them in my mum’s car since the middle of November; that’s just too early. At home we don’t even have our Christmas tree up yet! My sister, Hannah, is still at uni and won’t be back until next weekend. Usually we put the tree up on a Saturday, two weeks before Christmas, but this year we’ll have to put it up on the Sunday, again thanks to work.
It may seem weird but we have very set traditions when it comes to Christmas. The tree is a family thing. We film the whole thing, argue a lot, listen to Christmas music and generally just have fun. On Christmas Eve we have people around and play board games and eat way too much. Christmas day dad hands out the presents. I’ve heard from a lot of people that they wake up, wonder downstairs and just open them. Either that or they’re in piles like my parents had. We always used to around my grandad’s and uncle’s house (he never left home until my grandad died) after opening presents in the morning too. It was a memory I will always hold fondly. Sitting in my grandad’s smoke filled living room, being face molested by his various dogs throughout the years, opening more presents, and seeing family we rarely saw; I miss it. I miss him.
“It’s definitely to do with the shoddy Christmases my parents had.”
Now these aren’t tradtions my siblings and I have created, my parents are responsible for them. It’s definitely to do with the shoddy Christmases my parents had. Mum’s dad would put the tree up on Christmas Eve and take it down Boxing day. Her parents were divorced so she’d spend Christmas between the two families and I can’t begin to imagine what it would be like to not have my parents together. I guess I’m lucky, these days it seems as if marriage means nothing with the majority of my friend’s parents being split up. Dad’s Christmas was a little better, he put the tree up a week before Christmas and it came down the day after his birthday (the 28th which just so happens to be my birthday!). That’s another thing though, he didn’t get a present for his birthday. His parents couldn’t afford to buy him anything so close to Christmas so he got something minor, perhaps a book or something rubbish with his brothers and sisters getting much more as their birthdays were scattered throughout the year. I’m guessing that this was also in part due to his big family. My grandad adopted two kids when they were young; black, which at the time was somewhat controversial.
My dad is the Christmas person in our house. He wraps all the presents — he likes it — and has a mini disc (yes we invested in that dead technology) with around 100 Christmas songs on. He also does the majority of the present shopping to the horror of my mum. Mum is the sensible one. She worries a little too much but she looks after us all, keeping an eye on the money and cooking Christmas dinner.
Wrapping presents <3
I think that has to be my favourite aspect of Christmas actually. Dinner is fantastic and mum always does a fantastic job with little help from us lazy gits. It starts with a very ’70s, very yummy prawn cocktail about an hour before dinner is ready (I always want it sooner but I guess that’s just me being a fat bastard). Then it’s the usual turkey and trimmings topped off with some Christmas pud and clotted cream; mm, mmm. We usually have Christmas cake too and that’s something that’s changing this year. Dad being the Christmas man of the house usually makes the pud and cake but since mum and Sam are diabetic and Hannah hates both of them we’re not bothering this year. Ho Hum.
The food is one thing but it’s nice actually sitting around a table for a change. Christmas and New Year’s are the only days we actually do, kinda sad really but it does make the days special. Crackers are pulled off the tree that we so neatly put up and argued over and the Christmas mini disc goes on. Christmas just wouldn’t be Christmas without the music, I love it (Shakin’ Stevens is playing right now). It wouldn’t be Christmas without the films either. We’re in the midst of watching our massive collection of Christmas movies at the moment and it seems my dad has gone mad and is buying more and more. Still, nothing beats a bit of Home Alone. Then again it wouldn’t be Christmas without the mad rush I usually have to go through as I always leave Christmas present buying until last minute. This year is different though and I’m not sure I like it. I’ve bought the majority of my presents already and our tree isn’t even up yet, they’re all wrapped too.
This year is different though and maybe it’s not a bad thing, we’re not having ’stockings’ either, which were essentially pillow cases filled with little presents and placed beside our beds; we’re ‘too old for that’. You know, come to think of it I am feeling quite Christmassy. Why else would I decide to do Christmas shopping so early? Why else would I decide to make a Christmas playlist now? Why else would I moan about not putting the tree up? Why else would I make a Christmas avatar? Why else?
Yes, I love Christmas.
Merry Christmas x
Nothing seems to go right when I’m involved, and as my nan said I’m a “walking disaster”. ‘Coming out’ (always hated that term, there is just something so patronising about it) was no exception in my case.
Like most, I came out to my friends first. I wasn’t ready to tell my parents for a long time afterwards but I eventually did. I was quite lucky, or at least I feel I was, as I came to terms with my sexuality when I was relatively young. I moved schools in year 5 to Bishopsworth Junior School, and one guy helped me a lot in understanding myself. He was going through the same as me at the time, only he was braver and asked someone he liked out (I know, at that age it’s pretty pointless).
At that time it was of course a big mistake. People didn’t really understand fully about sexuality and he got attacked severely, to the point where he wasn’t able to leave the buildings at break times and had to run home after school. I felt terrible for him and selfishly I felt scared for myself. I knew that I was gay even if I couldn’t name my feelings at that age. Over the next couple of (school) years my feelings for this guy progressed, and it was reassuring but also scary that I felt that way toward a guy after being told my entire life that girls and boys go together. I never did anything about them though, and was still scared to tell anyone how I felt after seeing what it did to him.
I guess I thought that moving to secondary school would change everything.
IT DID NOT.
I went on pretending as if I could change, ignoring and repressing my feelings as much as I could which I obviously could not; and when a girl asked me out and would take no for an answer, I eventually said yes. Evidentially this was a big mistake and I only ended up upsetting her in the end.
I think it was toward the end of year 8 that I finally decided I was ready to tell someone how I felt. At the time my best friend was Chelsea, and even though we hadn’t been friends for that long, it seemed as though I could trust her. I was totally surprised by her reaction when she said she “guessed” as much. Now, this may sound majorly stupid, but never has one thing made me feel so good. The confidence I got from that was immense, and it just felt good to be able to share my emotions with someone else for a change.
After telling Chelsea I thought I could trust some other people; I decided to tell more of my close friends which it seems was a mistake. The next day was one of the worst days I’ve ever had in school. Everyone miraculously found out about my sexuality, and the constant questions drove me insane to the point where I was once again denying it. I think the next few months were the worst for me though, up until the end of year 8 (which was way too soon to ‘come out’). At that time I was the only one to be open about my sexuality (subsequently most of my friends were also, it’s quite strange how I’m severely lacking in straight friends) and so I got the full force of the cunts.
The one lesson I remember the most was PE, I totally flipped out. I’d been having the worst day possible and the last two periods, PE, was the final straw. Some on the douches in my class decided it would be funny to shove hockey sticks up my ass; which it turns out it was not. I ended up having a breakdown and telling Mr. Hardie to “FUCK OFF”, which if you know me is surprising since I’m always a goodie-two-shoes. Kurt was amazing and stayed with me chatting for the whole lesson (love him, he’s so amazing) ridding of Danny Bees as he came up to nose, and see what the issue was.
Year 8 wasn’t all bad though. The end of that year sparked the arrival of a new kid; Jordan. Jordan was, and still is adorable and he was the first person I ever had a ‘gay experience’ with. We got quite friendly toward the summer holidays and saw each other frequently. Unfortunately he was going out with another guy, who was the guy from my primary school. I still feel really guilty for cheating with Jordan whilst he was with the guy, even if he never really liked him. After that Jordan and I never really spoke, it was awkward and was the first time something like that had happened to either of us.
The Parentals
Coming out to my parents was a really hard thing to do, and I still haven’t told my dad personally even though mum has. It was until a few months back that I actually told them, I can’t remember the specifics. Charlie and I had been discussing it for a few days in English. I don’t know what sparked my decision to tell my mum that but suddenly I decided that I was old enough to tell her without her judging me.
To be honest, I was a little surprised by her reaction. She has asked me previously if there was anything going on between me and Kurt that she “should know about” (not that she has any kind of right to know) and there wasn’t, had she asked if I’m gay it would’ve made things easier for me. On the other hand she had also said that if I came to her and told her I’m gay that’d she’d be upset as she “wants lots of grandchildren”. Anyway, I decided that the best place to tell her would be a car ride; that way she couldn’t avoid it and it would be a sure way to get her to talk to me about a seemingly difficult subject.
As we got into the car I said “Mum, I need to talk to you…I’m gay.” It was really strange, she went silent for like two minutes and then said
“No you’re not, you’re too young to know what you want.”
That made me really angry and she made it seem as if it was a choice which is something I have always hated people saying. I guess I really upset her, and I spent the rest of the night in my room not wanting to talk to anyone other than my sister (who I told shortly after I came out to friends as she went to the same school anyway). If you’re gonna come out, do not do it in a car. While the person you’re telling can’t escape, you can’t either and I think that’s a major issue as I just wanted the conversation to end.
It hasn’t been until lately that she has come to terms with it and I think that is mainly thanks to my dad. He seems perfectly okay with it which is opposite to what I expected. In hindsight I would’ve done a lot differently but at least I’m open about my sexuality (thanks to some amazing friends) — something which a lot of people still feel that can’t be.
Exam time is almost over (I only have four left— hip-hip-hooray), so what is next in my life? This, I guess is the time when everything changes again; a fresh start so to speak.
I think this is going to be good for me to be perfectly honest. However, I do think I’m gonna miss a lot. I’m leaving way too many people behind in my life, people I don’t want to lose. I know I will though, it’s inevitable. Empty promises are made and people say they will “keep in touch” and “meet up every week” but it doesn’t happen— I know it doesn’t.
I’m also leaving the comfort of school behind. Sure we all complain about it and the teachers, work, and whatever else it contains but we will miss it. Everyone at the moment has this kind of clouded perception of college, that it’s all going to be a breeze— that the workload will be no more than it is right now. I for one cannot see that at all. The workload will be immense and there will be no second chances; a deadline is a deadline for a reason, you miss it and you’re dead.
Then again, it is a fresh start. Even as I leave behind some of the best people I have and ever will meet in my life (you all know who you are [I hope]), I get to meet some new ones. The perceptions people have of me will disappear with new ones will arrive.
I just hope it doesn’t suck, then all of the sacrifices will not be worth it.
