My dad is freaking amazing.

Seriously. Apologies ahead of time, because this is so long, but we talked about this for a couple of hours. A lot was said!

I'd sort of given up on the idea of telling my dad on this trip we took to see my grandma yesterday, thought I'd just... Wait it out, wait until my mom was feeling well enough that I could tell them both at the same time. She's dealing with daily migraines and on some pretty intense meds, so I figured it was best to wait to tell her, at least.

But driving back tonight, we ended up discussing some things that we'd seen on the news, and what with Prop 8 being upheld, the conversation turned towards his views on it. And he was saying that 15 years ago, he didn't associate with any LGBT people and kind of avoided them at work, but since he's decided that if someone's a good person, they're a good person regardless of orientation.

I was about ready to burst at that point. I couldn't quite make myself say it though. God, I was trying.

Discussion turned towards why all these conservative Christian groups are so staunchy anti-gay, and he goes on to say that he doesn't see where they get off saying these things. Said even if they do see it as a sin, it's absolved with everything else. He's still very much Christian but, he said, even if he did think homosexuality was wrong, or if he felt there was something else they were doing that wasn't right, he might politely mention to someone once that he thought they were on the wrong path, and leave it at that. "Who am I to play judge, anyway? I'm not God. If they're not interested, I'm not gonna push it on them."

My heart was pounding by this point. I kind of croaked something I think might have been English! And I'm paraphrasing here, because I was so shaky and so nervous, my voice was quivering so bad, so I don't remember it word-perfect, but the gist was this. "I... uh... A-actually... that's... sort of something I've... had problems with. Thinking about, I mean."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I... uhh..."

"What?"

"Heh, oh God, this... is harder to say than I thought it'd be. Um..."

"Just spit it out."

"I... don't think I'm straight."

He nodded. "I kind of suspected. You not bringing home any boyfriends was sort of a tip off after a while. ... And there's something your mom and I have picked up on. You always seemed very interested in the stories on Don't Ask, Don't Tell and gay marriage. We'd sort of glance at each other. We never discussed it, though."

And went on, "And I just want you to know, you're my daughter, and I love you. I always will. The only thing you could've done to disappoint me would be a life of crime. Or coming home halfway through senior year of high school pregnant, which would have been a mess. Heh, I wanted independent thinkers in my kids, and I stand by that. I'm not disappointed in any of you. I just want you to be happy."

And I sort of went on and on about what I'd been dealing with the past four or five years, things that made me suspect, things that made me know... I went on about really not wanting to say anything until I was 100% sure, being scared, being unsure whether or not a relationship with a man was interesting to me but being quite sure that women appealed to me a hell of a lot more. I'd said I'd wanted to be straight, or at least totally gay, since society seemed to like its boxes, even though I came to realize that I just didn't quite fit.

"Society just likes its things black and white. It seemed... easier to be one or the other." I mumbled.

"Well, it does. But things aren't black and white. Even in nature, things are rarely like that. But people have a hard time dealing with that, because they don't bother to think about things. They're not sure what to do when you can't pigeonhole someone."

And I'd said that I only recently actually came to terms with it, and before that I'd ignored it, denied it, tried to cling to what attraction to men I did have and write off my attraction to women as confusion, a phase, being lonely, or whatever. And that it'd always come back and hit me in the face, make me miserable, make me lose sleep, want to tear up my room and generally kind of hate myself.

"You should never have hated yourself. That's just... Not necessary. I think you're doing right by yourself. It's better to be honest than turn around when you're 40, married, with kids, and say 'Oh, I was a lesbian the whole time. Bye!' That wouldn't be fair. You shouldn't live a lie." And he says that if I came home with a girlfriend, he'd never ask us to hide it, even if my way conservative, evangelical extended family are over.

And then this happens.

"Well, I don't know if you'd figured it out yet or not, but... I'm a crossdresser. I sort of went through a similar crisis. I didn't know why I was this way, was it wrong if it was really such a part of who I was? Would God make me this way if it were wrong? It took your mom a long time to come to any sort of acceptance, and there were times I threw out everything, but I always came back to it. So I can understand."

BLEW. MY. MIND. I had no idea! None! Holy crap I wasn't expecting that.

And he said that, well, he's attracted to women, so he could see why I would be, and that the idea of sex with men turned him off completely, so he could understand that feeling too. I said that men don't necessarily turn me off, and I still find effeminate men really nice to look at, but I wasn't sure that was enough to build a relationship on. But I'm not going to count someone off because of what junk they have. He said that was perfectly reasonable.

And lordy, this is long already, but I'm still tingly and shivery and grinning. We discussed a few other things. Gaydar ("How does that work? How can you tell?" "I have NO IDEA what I'm picking up on, seriously! I'm confused too!"), homophobia, pride parades, various lesbian couples I grew up around that I HAD NO IDEA ABOUT when I was little, same-sex marriage, same-sex adoption, and I... I feel so much better. So much better. Years and years of nagging fears and doubts off my chest, and in a discussion that wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. Just honest.

I had no doubt in my mind that he would, on some level, accept it. Even if it was a grudging acceptance, a sort of "I can't argue with that even if I don't like it" attitude. I was honestly floored by the understanding, though. He and I both seem to think Mom will take a little longer, and she may just be somewhat disappointed, but I know that Dad has my back.

God, I am so lucky.