“Absolutely.”
“You don’t have to be rude.”
“How can answering your question be regarded as being rude? You asked me if I was queer and I said I wasn’t, then you asked if we had our arms around each other and I said yes, so how was that rude?”
“So, you are queer then?”
“Mum, I don’t believe in putting people into categories like you do, and second, I don’t particularly like the word queer.”
“Well, what are you then?”
I could hear the intensity in my mother’s voice rising with each question. I assumed that she was trying to break me down and make me burst into tears, but I’d been bullied so many times at school, that I’d learned to toughen up.
“Although I am a human being, if you insist in wanting to put me into a category then I would prefer you saying I am gay.”
“I don’t want that
