My ex-boyfriend
is a gem. Not only does he continue to
share his family with me (when I go “home,” I go to his house… like, I spend
ALL holidays at his house), but also, he was one of my most supportive friends
while I was coming out.
About this time
last year, I came out to him on the phone. I told him I went to an
LGBT-identified meeting. I confessed, “I’m bisexual.” (Forthcoming: A post
about my bisexual detour.) His response was, “I know, ratty.” (Also, we call
each other ratty… It started as a pet name, but we still use it. I’m making it
sound weird, but trust me, it’s not). Since we had discussed the possibility of
me sleeping with women WHILE we were dating—which he was supportive of—I
figured he wouldn’t be totally shocked.
Even though I knew he would be supportive, I was really scared to tell him.
I feared my
coming out would invalidate the relationship we once had or the love we still
had for one another. I knew it
didn’t, but I worried he might think it did. I was totally wrong. He was just
happy for me. He was happy for me because he loves me and wants me to be happy.
What a fucking sweetie, right?
Don’t get me
wrong, we had some hiccups after I came out. We had misunderstandings,
uncomfortable questions, and shared tears in public spaces (because big fights always
happen in public, fyi). Despite the hiccups, at the end of the day, I knew he
would always love and support me. In fact, in one of our misunderstandings at a
local diner, he cried—because he had just made me cry—and said, “I just want
to support you and I’m sorry that I don’t always know how to do that.”
As an apology, we
went to Wendy’s for a round of frosties, which we ate while sitting on the hood
of my Forester. As we slurped up our frosties, he said, “We’ll figure it out,
ratty. Don’t worry. I’ll always be here for you.” While I always knew that, I needed
to hear it.
Admittedly, I
wasn’t a very good girlfriend to my ex-boyfriend. I wasn’t in a good place in
my life and I couldn’t be the partner he deserved—partly because of the gay
thing, but also, partly because I was a general mess. Though I couldn’t be a
good girlfriend to him, I’m grateful I have the privilege to be his best friend.
And let me tell you, we are really
good best friends.
Find yourself a
ratty and hang onto them.
Love you, ratty.
<3
*Me and ratty in our youth*
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