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Tag: family

Aftereffects Of Coming Out

Aftereffects Of Coming Out

Whenever I write a big, scary blog post, I never really know how to follow it up. Should I just go back to ‘business as usual’ posts about how I’m getting on with my dissertation (not as quickly as I’d like), or do I need to take this time to be serious and deep since that’s what people are probably expecting? I also considered making a post made up of all the bits and pieces of things I’ve wanted to…

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Christmas, Adulthood, and Festive Transitions

Christmas, Adulthood, and Festive Transitions

Christmas as a young adult is weird. It starts getting weird in your mid teenage years, I think, although maybe this depends slightly on your family traditions, and whether or not you have siblings (plus, whether they’re older or younger). I’m the youngest of three, so my siblings outgrew many of our childhood traditions some time before I did, although given that we were never a family who believed in Father Christmas, this wasn’t as big a deal as it…

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Canada, Cars, and Calamity

Canada, Cars, and Calamity

Just a quick update, because I realised I haven’t posted at all this week. You’re probably aware from notes in my previous posts, as well as my Twitter if you follow me, that I’m currently in Canada visiting my brother. Specifically, I’m right now in a hostel in Kelowna where we’ve stopped overnight en route from Vancouver to Calgary. The journey today didn’t get off to the smoothest start, because about an hour into the journey the exhaust fell off…

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An Unfamiliar Home

An Unfamiliar Home

I’m home for the holidays, and it’s weird. Two months, it turns out, is just long enough to disrupt the autopilot habits which allow you to find things in the dark, but not long enough for things to seem entirely unfamiliar. Aided by the return of my older brother to the familial nest, the house has changed: not drastically, but enough that I find myself looking for things in the wrong places. It is personalised and homely and absolutely full…

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100% Rebel Teen Writer

100% Rebel Teen Writer

After reading Susan Kaye Quinn’s post about her 15-year-old son’s writing and how she’s encouraged it and his forays into publishing, I started reflecting on how I would have turned out had my mother been a writer. And I’ve come to the only possible conclusion for anybody who knows me remotely well: I’d probably have ended up a mathematician. Okay, I’m exaggerating. But honestly? I can’t really imagine myself being a teen writer if my parents had been writers. I’ve…

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Ignorance Is Not Bliss

Ignorance Is Not Bliss

“Isn’t she bisexual?” “No, she’s pansexual.” “What the hell is that?” “It’s what picky bisexual people call themselves.” “Isn’t it what non-picky bisexual people call themselves? You know, they’ll sleep with anyone?” “Well, anyway, what she’s confused about is whether she’s a girl or a boy.” “Are you kidding? How hard can it be?” “I know. Like, anyone can tell that.” “We-ird. So is that why she dresses in boys’ uniform now? And why she cut her hair?” “Hmm, I…

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Time Passes

Time Passes

A year ago today, my grandma passed away. It’s also father person’s birthday today, which means I didn’t like to mention this. I’m sure the parentals haven’t forgotten, and reminding them seemed unnecessary, and would have put a damper on the mood. Yet at the same time, it seemed odd to go the whole day without mentioning it to anyone. Not even to my friends. What’s in a year? A year is ever so slightly over a seventeenth of my…

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Why Lie To Children?

Why Lie To Children?

I have to say, I don’t really get the whole ‘Father Christmas’ thing. I don’t understand why parents will spend years convincing their children that there really is a fat old man who comes down the chimney and leaves them presents – only to tell them later that they were lying, and have the children heartbroken. Why? When I was young, my parents never told me that Father Christmas, or Santa, or whatever, was real. They didn’t say he wasn’t,…

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Stay With Me

Stay With Me

I had a friend once. I start quite a few of my anecdotes, the stories I tell, in that way. I usually get one of two responses. Either my listener nods and says, “Yeah?” in an interested fashion, or they pretend to be surprised: “You had a friend?” People can be so wonderfully witty. I have lived in the house I currently live in since I was almost one year old, and I’ve never had experience of living anywhere else, because…

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He Was My Brother

He Was My Brother

I haven’t really mentioned my brother in any great detail on my blog before. That’s partly because I don’t tend to talk about my real-life friends or family on the internet, in case (a) they find it or (b) their employer/family/school principal find it. I don’t want to cause issues for anyone! But I’ve talked a little bit about my sister, and she did a guest post a very long time ago, so you know about her. I also mentioned her…

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