This is probably no the form of "coming out" that one would expect. At this stage of my pre-adokescent existence, I'd have to guess that I'm as heterosexaul as the next person. My hormones are not yet in overdrive, but with each pasing day I see signs of the upcoming proverbial roller coaster ride. The "coming out" of which I speak is of an entirely different ilk.
When I began blogging just more than a year ago, I didn't wish to be the fifteen-year-old that I was. Sixteen sounded more glamorous, suphisticated, and cosmopolitan than did fifteen. For some inexplicable reason I've never cared for the sound of the age of fifteen, even long before I actually approached the age. My parents quickly noticed this. They found the practice of advancing my age by a year, as well as the reasons for it, to be superfluous and silly, but did nothing to stop it, in part because it masked my identity slightly more than the degree to which it was already covered.
Now that I'm no longer the distasteful age of fifteen, there's no longer a solid reon to hold onto the deception. I'm sixteen years old. If any readers (all three of you) feel that you've been deceived, I apologize. Deception was mever my intent. Rather, my goal was to bypass the age of fifteen, which, in additon to the lack or sonoroity of the word as perceived by my delicate ears, is pretty much a nothing age. Nothing much of interest happens to anyone at the age of fifteen, other than for a few of the girls at my high school who managed to get themselves knoced up between their fourteenth and sixteenth birthdays. We'll leave that one alone for now.
How does my new revelation change things? Perhaps a reader would be more understanding of my parents' apprehension at sending me away to college next year. Sixteen-and-one-half, while not unheard of, is a young age for a student to leave home for college. My brother Matthew, who is an athlete, will probably attend a year of prep school somewhere in California before venturing off to a four-year university. I'm more likely to attend the nearest university to my parents' new home, as they'll be moving next summer. I've already had acceptances to all the UC campuses as well as to Stanford. I just need to commit before the deadline. I probably won't be allowed in a dorm the first year. While I don't agree, it's a small price to pay.
In the grand scheme of things I seriously doubt this has much of an impact. Still, it's one more step on my continuous journey of acceptance of who it is that I actually am.