So, I see a lot of questions online about teens asking about "coming out" as goth to their friends and family, and maybe one or two clueless parents who wonder if the goth thing is a positive thing.
School was a nightmare for me. To this day, the sound of children laughing makes me uneasy. My coming out didn't matter because I couldn't possibly go lower on the status pole. Even the fat kid picked on me. My home situation wasn't fantastic either.
By high school, I'd gotten good at being fearsome (mostly by my gothy appearance) and at sticking up for myself (foul language and an attitude). My home situation was getting worse, but I ended up working two jobs. At the very least, I had the money and a car to get away. Listening to industrial and driving around the city was my favorite thing to do.
And that's about when I was asked out by this preppy volleyball player from the good part of town. He had a pool in the backyard, a friendly dog, neighbors who stopped by to say hello. There was stained glass windows everywhere--his mother's hobby. His parents cooked, and he helped his sisters with their homework. His parents asked me how my day was. They'd remember things I told them. I was completely out of place at the dinner table--the scrappy girl with a mohawk. They'd looked at me like I was crazy when I offered to chip in for pizza. I'd almost wept when they said something along the lines of my being welcome there and part of the family.
He started dressing goth. This didn't go well with his parents. I think his dad was a homophobe and didn't want his son dressing that way. Me, well, I was 16 and in beauty school. I basically had hours to look as bizarre as I wanted. His parents repeated, again and again, how good it was of me to be "bettering" myself though a trade school.
One day he broke up with me for no reason. We were sweaty and irritated in my '89 Camry because it was summer and I had to drive with the heat on to cool the engine. I could tell he didn't want to break up with me, so I was like "Um no...we love each other so, no. We aren't broken up." I still can't believe that worked. Teens. He broke up with me again, then went back. Then a final breakup senior year. He'd said he always loved me, but I was always left confused... Why couldn't we be together? At the time, I'd felt this was the only person who cared about me.
A lifetime later (I'd graduated beauty school, worked at a top salon, went to college, went to graduate school, got married, a career) I think I realize what happened. I think it was pressure from his family. They'd pictured someone else for him... Someone from a good family, someone who looked like them.
Lol I'm not whoever they thought I was, clearly. Though I'm older and understand they were just worried about their son. I still think it's crazy to be so judgemental about a teenage girl.
I want to think this doesn't happen anymore, but I'm sure it does. It's sad when you have to choose between being yourself and being part of a family. Lol also it sucks to be a teen. It gets better. It really does.