Pocket-diary, because this post is gonna be short. Part of the Diary of an Anime Lived series.
Being a show about otaku, it’s no surprise that Ore no Imouto is full of relatable moments to any fan. My favorite is the argument in episode 2 between Kirino and Kuroneko over whose favorite anime is better—been there plenty of times. My arguments have usually lead to burnt bridges and unfriendliness, but I also know how people that don’t agree on things can be friends (plenty of people I talk to on Twitter are willing to debate anime in a more friendly manner.) —That’s not what this post is about, though.
The moment from Oreimo that I related to most was when Kirino’s father told her to get rid of her hobby in episode 3 and she ran away, later telling Kyousuke that she’d never change.
I don’t have that problem with my parents. Don’t get me wrong, they in no way understand my hobby and think that I’m a freak, but they’re also very supportive and give me the freedom to do as I please. (I wish they wouldn’t bring guests into my room like it’s an exhibit, though.) Of course, America also doesn’t have the otaku stigma that Japan does, and my parents don’t really know anything about the contents of the stuff I watch and read (if they did, I’m sure we’d have a much longer talk about it lol.)
But there was someone who brought my tastes into question once, and I haven’t spoken to them since. That person was a psychologist that I was seeing from February until August named Dr. Buxton.
I’d gotten along with Dr. Buxton pretty well over the course of the year. We were very different people, him being an older family man that worked with the Republican party and was a wealthy workoholic, but we nonetheless shared a mutual understanding and respect that made it so he could still impact my thinking (at a time where I really needed help.)
However, as time went on, it increasingly seemed like I didn’t need to be there anymore. I was on the right track and I didn’t have the problems from before that I needed help with. Buxton was increasingly distracted during our meetings because of his business with politics, and I felt like it was a waste of money to keep seeing him.
We met after not having seen each-other for a few weeks and with nothing else to really bring up, Buxton started asking about my anime addiction. Specifically, he was concerned about my sexuality. We’d clarified that I was interested in women, though I’d told him plenty of times that I wasn’t really interested in dating for the time being (which he didn’t seem to buy.)
He dragged up his knowledge about anime and manga representing characters that looked extremely young and started bombarding me with questions. I kept telling him, “I really can’t explain this, I’d have to really give you a longer explanation,” and such things, but he wouldn’t stop asking, and kept searching through stuff like ‘moe’ on wikipedia on his smartphone and then confronting me with things he read. I said “it’s not really like that, I’d have to explain it to you,” but I really didn’t know what to say and was frozen on the spot. He then brought up someone in a neighboring city whom he’d been seeing that was arrested for virtual child porn that was apparently anime, and was interested in what I could tell him about the subject for that case as well.
I got really, really, intensely flustered by the whole situation. I’d always been very open with him about any element of my life (it’s me we’re talking about), but when it came to anime, what was I supposed to say? How could I put through to him where I was coming from? I didn’t know what to do and didn’t want to talk about it.
So I went home and typed out a 6000-word opus on otaku sexuality, which I’d intended to show him and get him to understand.
But I didn’t. I skipped out on the meeting we’d scheduled and I never called again. He, incidentally, never called me either, perhaps sensing that he’d pushed me away.
I wanted to avoid the topic so bad because I didn’t want my otakudom and sexuality to be looked at as a problem. I didn’t want it to be one of the things I was trying to ‘work through.’ I’d never gotten into my otakudom with him before because it’s an area of my life where I’m completely satisfied (maybe the ONLY area), and when he brought it up, I felt insulted. I wanted him to leave it alone and to move on, but he kept fucking pushing me. The reason I haven’t gone back is that if the only abnormality left in my life is my otakudom, then I’ve cured all of my concerns.
Kirino never had to explain to her father why anime isn’t harmful, and she wouldn’t have wanted to. It’s fucking frustrating for someone to expect you to tell them why you shouldn’t change yourself. It’s like, “fuck you for even saying that there’s something wrong with me. This is what I love, so stay the fuck out of it.” That’s exactly why even though I typed out 6000 words, I never gave them to their intended audience—because in the end, why the hell should I have to defend myself? I like the way I am. If you don’t, then get the hell out of my life.
Bonus: The Smiths – Is It Really So Strange?