ughsocialjustice:

One of my least favourite things that SJWs do (and its a long list) is defend the likes of people like Lena Dunham, who out others to their parents and act like they did the outed person a favour.

When I was eighteen years old, I had my first boyfriend. We told our friends and his parents, but our relationship was kept a secret from mine. My family are crazy religious and I knew they wouldn’t be happy if they found out that I’m gay. So me and my then boyfriend (let’s call him F) were pretty happy. We used to hang out together down a kind of parkland known locally as the Rec, where my parents never went. We thought we were safe there. We were wrong.

I don’t know to this day how my sister found out - whether she personally witnessed it or was told by a friend. But she just came out with it at dinner one night.

“Jack’s gay.”

Just like that. Everyone was in shock. Mum actually nearly choked. Dad, calm at first, asked me if it was true. My sister answered for me.

“It is true. F is his boyfriend. They’ve been together for months.”

I saw it slowly dawn on my dad. All the times F had been round our house, all the times he’d spent the night, or I’d spent the night at his place. He asked me again. I didn’t even bother to deny it, for fear my sister had some sort of proof. Dad got angry then. Slammed his hands down on the table, said he wouldn’t have a “fucking queer” in his house (side note: Also why I hate the word queer. According to SJWs that makes me an oppressive shitlord.) He demanded I “stop”.

I got a bit tearful. I said I couldn’t stop. It was the way I was, the way I’d always been. I couldn’t change that. I wanted to have some soap opera tv moment, some kind of miraculous realisation where my dad could say he disapproved of my lifestyle, but I was his only son, and he still loved me. But no. His exact words were;

“Then you’re going to have to go.”

I asked him where he expected me to go. He didn’t know and didn’t care. He just wanted me out of his house. I could have half an hour to get my shit packed, and then he wanted me gone. I turned to my mum, but she was just crying and repeating that she doesn’t have a son. My sister, through all of this, sat smugly smirking, proud of her revelation.

I went up to my room, packed up all the stuff that had any sentimental value to me. Before I left, I tried to hug my dad. He punched me in the face.

My first port of call was F, who, being three years my senior, had his own place and he did let me stay with him for a while. But my deteriorated mental state was too much for him to cope with. He referred me to social services and washed his hands of me.

The social were great. Got me placed with a foster family and attempted to contact my parents, offered them counselling. My parents refused and said they wanted nothing to do with me ever again.

This was four years ago. I have not spoken to my parents or my sister since. If I pass any of them in town, they ignore me. They ignore my calls and have me blocked on all social media. I went to the house once and my sister, upon answering the door, slapped me and told me if I came back again dad would kill me. I’ve had a couple of boyfriends, but am presently single. Apparently I have too much emotional baggage for most guys to handle. The holidays in particular are excruciating for me. Christmas is no fun at all when you’re alone.

Outing people is completely shitty, and anyone who defends this behaviour is a completely shitty person. I’ve recounted this story on my blog and been told via anonymous messages that I deserved it as a white cis man, now I know what lesbians feel like, and that I’m a misogynist for hating my sister after this. I also got several messages calling me a “gross fucking fag” and told I was an oppressive “queerphobic” shitlord for hating the word queer now.

These people really are the dregs of society.