I was 24 when I told my mom I was bisexual. Why? Well, she wanted to know why we weren't all that close, and she sensed I was hiding something from her. She didn't take the news well. Frst, she assumed I was lying, and that I was gay instead of bi. Based on this belief, she demanded to know what was so wrong with me that I "could like a man instead of a woman". I responded "Who ever said 'instead of'?", and things deteriorated from there. We get along quite well now, though not because of how you all are probably hoping this story ends. She kept referring to my bisexuality as "that problem". After lots of lectures from my parents, and even a time where they gave me this stupid video from the AFA purporting to show "the evils of the homosexual lifestyle", (It's called "It's not gay", if you ever want to be nauseated) she asked me if I "still had that problem" I told her I didn't have any problem. Of course, I meant that I fully accept who I am, and don't see anything wrong with how God made me. She took it to mean that I somehow changed my mind about this whole "gay thing". Since I know there's no use even discussing any of this further with her, I let it go at that. I know, it's not the most courageous way of handling things, but it's worked for more than 2 years. I take comfort, ironically, in the same thing that she bases her dislike of an aspect of who I truly am. I'm speaking of our Christian Faith. She believes that God condemns the expressed love of 2 people of the same gender. I believe that God makes no mistakes, he made me like I am, and those lovely passages are speaking about male prostitution associated with pagan worship of fertility deities. Interestingly enough, on anything not involving homosexuality, she comes to me and asks me what my judgement is about any passage she has a hard time understanding. I know more about the Bible than the average graduate of Bob Jones University (you know who they are, right?), but it's always interesting when you see blind emotion come up to interfere with logical interpretation of scripture, or any other theological topic. But I digress. As far as wishes go, I wish I had never opened my mouth to any of my family, but I wish desperately that I could have had some friend I could have talked to. It would have helped 15 years ago, whe I first started to subconsciously suspect, or years later when I knew I was in love with my best friend. It still would be a good thing now, when I feel surrounded by stereotypical fundamentalists. It hurts to realize that your "friends" don't know you, and wouldn't have much to do with you if they did. Sometimes, it makes me feel like the lonliest guy in the world. Ironically, that's when faith helps.