I have been living in my current (and first) apartment for about seven months now. I am a junior in college and it took a lot of convincing to finally be able to move off campus with my parent’s approval. I live alone, which is how I thought I would like things, but it turns out I get lonely.
So finally, one of my high school friends is attending the same college and it just so happens that he is gay. He would like to move to the city where our college is located instead of making the thirty-mile commute each day. I could use some money-saving help, and having a roommate would help us both out. Other than monetary gains, I enjoy his company and I have these tiny bugs that attack my food that won’t seem to go away. When I signed a six-month lease, my mother and stepfather told me that the reason for doing so was that if I was unhappy, I could easily just not renew it and find a new place.
My friend and I went around town to find prices on apartments. I believe we stopped at ten places. It was rather exhausting but very informative. We sat down that night and discussed how we would budget and things about each other that might be problematic if we lived together. I felt like we were being extremely responsible and thinking everything out before ever proposing the idea to our parents, who are still supplying the money for us. The two reasons other than the infuriating one for my parents saying no don’t really matter. But the really anger-inspiring one was that my stepdad directs the music at a Baptist church and it would “look bad” if he used part of his salary to support me living with a homosexual.
The reason I finally convinced my parents to let me have an apartment instead of living in dorms was that I finally got a boyfriend when I was nineteen. He asked if I would like to live with him and when I approached my parents about this, they immediately came back with the alternate proposal to let me have my own apartment. For some reason, pleading that I am a cook and cannot cook anything of quality with a 600-watt microwave never worked. If I had known that a guy asking me to live with him was the trick, I would have hired someone to do this before. Oh well.
At the time though, it wasn’t that he was a guy, but that he was my boyfriend. And I can see why they had a problem with that. But I was never told that a roommate period would never be allowed. And while it may seem like just two options have now been scratched out, I was also told that people can never be trusted. My mother told me that I have a bad record with roommates. Well, when you are only given five questions to match random people up at a university, of course you aren’t going to get truly compatible people. And in reality, I got along really well with my first roommate, and the second one I just never spoke to. Neither case is bad, especially considering some horror stories I have heard.
My mother is very skeptic of people, at least as far as roommates go. She lived with her best friend and that “best friend” totally screwed her over. She stole checks, clothes, and all kinds of stuff. But my mother’s lack of willingness to even let me ever have a roommate is very irritating. Especially since this guy isn’t even a best friend—we just get along well. And obviously there would be no problems with “shacking up” because I’m not gay and he is. It was all very frustrating and since I have several gay friends, it offended me deeply that the main reason for not letting me live with my friend was that he is gay.
This whole issue is one of the reasons that I voted for Obama. I would be ashamed to live in a country where the president only “tolerated” gay people. Those are my friends you are talking about and I feel stronger about nothing in the world than them.