Father’s Day today, so I’ve been thinking about my family the whole day. And my ex-girlfriend, to be honest.

My parents, like all the other parents in Hong Kong, believed (note: past tense) in heavy discipline. Almost everybody has a thin wooden (or bamboo?) stick at home just to punish their child (maybe occasionally to fetch the unreachable rolled under the bed). What the parents did sure left a lot of psychological damage; I could cry any time just thinking about it.

Ugh, didn’t mean to badmouth my parents. I love them. If it wasn’t them, I wouldn’t have been me. I wouldn’t know how to play the piano and violin, how to speak, spell and write English, wouldn’t be interested in Science, Maths and Medicine, wouldn’t…

Wouldn’t have been a lesbian?

No. There’s nothing to do with them of me being a lesbian. My father was/is great. He doesn’t smoke, drink, swear, abuse or anything. My mother was/is fantastic, too. They’re just about the coolest parents I could find. And I’m not ashamed to be a lesbian.

Now that I’ve come out, I hope they’d soon be cool about my sexuality. Please be cool about it.

I was feeling all gloomy today until I called home to say “Happy Father’s Day”. Dad seemed to be in high spirits. He thanked me for the a-few-days-early card. I listened to him, and realised that he’s changed a lot since I went to England for my studies about two years ago. He, like he promised, is a lot less demanding and more gentle on his words. Or maybe he’s been changing all along, I just never noticed? Mum was right. If I were to choose between my girlfriend leaving and my father dying, of course I’d choose the former.

So, Happy Father’s Day. Also Happy Belated Mother’s Day. And Happy Brother’s Day.

Happy Family Day.