41 (Rant)

October 25, 2011

Ok, rant time.

So, my wife and daughter and i live with my brother-in-law. Simplest explanation is that it’s a money thing.

I’M DYING TO GET OUT OF HERE.

Reason number one: this place doesn’t belong to us. He bought the house and he’s paying the mortgage (we pay him rent). We have to constantly think about what he wants with regard to the house before we do ANYTHING. That means we can’t keep our bikes where we want, we can’t keep our laptops where we want, we can’t put ANYTHING where we want. It all has to go where he wants. Everything has to be how he wants, whether it makes any practical sense or not. I have what i’d like to be my workspace in the basement, but he CLAIMS that he wants to do social stuff down there. The (rarely used) giant screen tv and futon are on one side of the basement, and my workspace is on the other. There’s literally ZERO crossover. And to top it all off between the two areas, there’s nothing but space. Yet for some reason we can’t keep the bikes we’re not actively using (i prefer to keep mine upstairs because i ride it to work; he’d prefer that it was on the back porch which has NO security) in the main area of the basement. He has them stuffed into the laundry room. HE’S NOT USING THAT AREA FOR ANYTHING and they wouldn’t even be in the way when he’s going toward the laundry room, because they have no kickstands, so they’d have to lean against the wall. It’s just EMPTY SPACE. And he’s on this kick about having the house clean, which i don’t get, since he’s only ever anywhere other than his room to eat, watch football and play video games. He doesn’t cook (i’m the only one who cooks on a regular basis), so the kitchen is NOT his concern, yet he’s been bugging me about these dishes (which i used and will clean when i damn well feel like it), which have only been in the sink for… less than a day. And it’s not even that many.

Reason number two: he doesn’t understand anything about sexuality or gender. It’s only in the last few months that he’s stopped using the term “gay” as a pejorative (in my presence, at least), and only because i told him to stop. He doesn’t know that i’m queer (well, he knows a tiny bit, but not the full depth, by any stretch) and wouldn’t get it. He doesn’t know that i’m trying to express more and more of my femme self (whether it be via clothing or behavior), and wouldn’t get THAT either. I constantly feel like i’m hiding things from him; i can’t practice bellydancing when he’s home, i can’t wear a loose comfy skirt or ANYTHING that i’ve purchased recently outside of my room with the door closed because i never know when he’s going to walk in the door. He knows we’re poly but i doubt he really understands that, either. I’d like to be able to bring guests home, or have them over for dinner and a movie and snuggletime, but since my interests fall all over the gender spectrum (and he doesn’t understand anything gender-wise other than cis, if he knows what that even MEANS), i don’t feel comfortable doing that either unless i’m sure he’s going to be gone for a significant amount of time.

Bottom line, this house is not my home. I can’t be myself here, and i hate it.