Sharing the Interesting Memories.........

I remember when you figured out I was gay. You had a quizzical look. Almost as if I caught you off guard. Told you something you never expected to hear. Really, though, did it surprise you when I told you? I wear my short hair about as proudly as I wear my plaid. You never saw me so much as swoon over a guy, smile at his name, or get red when he teased me. Did it come causally in conversation? Did I slip in something about my girl friend? Make a joke about my oh-so-gay tendencies? Did we start talking about me dating someone, and, after going through ever other possibility, did you finally realize then? Maybe you did not understand that easily. Maybe I sat you down and we talked about it. Maybe you knew all along, but you just waited till I found the courage to tell you. Maybe in this moment it finally hit you—Dani Boucher, very gay. Maybe this is the moment you will now remember. I remember them all—every person, every incident, every time it finally hit someone. People’s assumptions about me almost always end up incorrect. I read people, rather I look at their face and decipher what they think based on their facial expression. I depend on this, skill(?) to help me in those oh so interesting conversations. Some people understand instantly; others I watch as their faces slowly fade in to understanding. I saw this progression quite clearly when talking to a classmate:

“Does he go to our school?”
“No, they don’t.”
“Does he go to private school?”
“Yes, they do.”
“Does he go to US? St. Ignatius? Gilmore? Hawken?”
“No, they do not.”

Slowly I watched as my classmate finally realized. The thing I notice about telling people, though, is that everyone wants me to say it first. I can tell you the moment they realize that I do not match there assumptions. Still, even after they reach this point, not one person I tell says it first. No one will utter the words. They make me say them first.
“Yes, I am gay.”
Actually I am not gay. I am a lesbian, but lesbian's hard to spell and has a lot more letters then gay. Telling people about my sexuality, sometimes feels funny. Other times nerve-racking. Coming out, the act of proclaiming to the world one's sexual orientation. (Dani Boucher Dictionary) Something many of my classmates never experience. People do not come out as straight. It does not tear a family apart when their daughter dates a man. It does not repel friends or make people question when a guy talks about his girl friend. Our society creates norms, heterosexuality, for example. Which means that, for someone like me, a lot of really interesting memories occur. I remember telling someone during government class, on Facebook chat, in Panera, at Wendy's, on a bus, outside under a tree, over text message, in my little sister's room, in my living room, in my driveway. I remember every single time: the looks, the questions, my little sister screaming “Can we go on a double date?!” Those memories I share with incredibly important people in my life. Those memories are forever engraved in my mind. Not everyone gets the chance to create these memories. For now, though, I remember when you read this and it finally hit you......