Community Rainbow Waves

Bisexual

I’d always known I wasn’t into boys. I appreciated them, got along with them, played sports with them, but I didn’t like being in a relationship with them. I spent a lot of my time watching old classic movies as a kid and watched how gentlemen treated women, and knew that the only way I or any other woman was to experience that in this day and age was to treat a girl like that myself. I had come out to my friends when I finished school at about 18. I didn’t get the opportunity to be with a woman till I was 22, and all it was was a drunken kiss, but after that, I knew for sure there was no going back. I had started a friendship with a girl I was working with at my local horse stables and after a few months of giving her chocolates and flowers, she came to stay at my place. During the week she stayed with me, she and I both opened up and told each other things we had never told anyone else. Our dreams, our hopes, our pasts. Nothing was off limits. The day before she went back to her place we spent the day just lounging around in bed, and for a brief moment, I thought she might kiss me, and as quickly as I thought it, she quickly moved away. I should point out at this stage that this woman had never even thought about being with a woman.
That night I went to stay with my ex, a guy, and told him of my feelings for this woman. He told me I was being ridiculous and no one would ever love me. The next night I went to stay at her place while her parents were overseas.
She taught her horse riding lesson, and we went home. We had showers, then went and laid in her bed. She had been quiet all day and I had started to worry I had scared her the day before, but suddenly in the darkness, she turned to me and told me she was confused, she didn’t know why she felt the way she did or what was happening, but she told me all she wanted to do was kiss me, and asked if I would be ok with her doing that. She kissed me, and the rest is history. Two weeks ago we celebrated out two year wedding anniversary.
My mother didn’t and still doesn’t accept our marriage, but the rest of my family love my wife to pieces. And why? Because she makes me happy. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters, is happiness and love.

Not out but getting there

I live in a pretty conservative country. I’ve known I was not normal since young, I got obsessed over both genders when I was really young, like 4. I suppressed it for years, and tried to dismiss it as just “being a weird tomboy of sorts”. My family was conservative back then, my mom would say if any of us were queer she’d disown us.

8 years later I get asked if im a lesbian in an all-girl school, I think it was meant to be a teasing thing, or an insult. 2 years later I learn the word bisexual and start questioning my sexuality.

2 years later and i’m still confused but i’m coming out to people i know better, slowly, even my family, except the homophobic ones.

Yes, I am proud to be queer. Yes, I am optimistic about the future. But i’m still terrified of getting outed, getting called slurs. I know I can handle it, but i’m still scared. Internalised homophobia sucks too, I watch queer movies and I both love and question them, there’s so much hatred. I wished for myself to just be straight, told myself it’d just be so much easier, I told myself I wanted conversion therapy even though it’s complete bs.

I’m starting to accept it more, and love myself more, I can feel the community here growing, thanks

Took a while to figure out who I really was, but now I have found myself

The “identify” title of this post may be a slight lie. See I believe that all of life is a journey, and we are always redefining what we want, and most importantly who we are. Nothing is ever only black or white.

However as this is about coming out, I’ll tell you my story. My story is similar to most. I lived most of my youth in the different shades of grey. You know where most of us live, just trying to be authentic and figure ourselves out. I was a tomboy, who for most of my life got along better with the boys than the girls. However, I knew I didn’t want to be a boy, I just didn’t want to be treated any different. I didn’t want to play with dolls, I’d rather be rough-housing in the dirt than be pretty (or clean!). I hated dresses and would strip them off as soon as I could. Luckily having an older brother and a thrifty mom who probably hated doing my laundry, I mainly got to hangout in boy-shorts, and not much else. I know I am luckier than most, as I got Transformers as birthday gifts and was allowed to be myself, even if I dint know exactly what that was yet.

Now I don’t believe being a tomboy is a precursor for being gay. Its just about those shades of grey. Look at my brother for example, always clean and pristine. Dressed to impress. Hated dirt and trucks. Straight (or rather within the straight range of the grey spectrum where we all dwell). There are no rules, only the expectations others put on us.

Despite this, I never knew I was gay. However, I had no interest in boys, or girls for that matter. I was drawn to characters I could identify with on TV, the less boy crazy more down and dirty girls (think Jo from Facts of Life) but I never knew anyone who was gay, so it just never entered my mind as being a possibility. Puberty hit and boys filled the void, although I never became attached and frankly never had that much fun. Around the same time, my focus shifted from my male school friends, who I felt nothing for, to craving female friendships.

And I fell hard. Not in love, I never wanted to sleep with them. But I wanted to be around them. At the same time, I became less interested in my male flings, but still never thought about the female possibility. I was very guarded. I never touched or hugged my friends. I thought that perhaps was just the way I was. However in retrospect, I think I was afraid. However I never allowed it into my conscious mind.

Believe it or not it was not until university where this changed. And even then it was a painfully slow process. By 3rd year I had girlfriends who would hug and kiss me. However I was still very guarded and kept even my closest friends a safe distance, at least emotionally, away. Then there was one special friend, who managed to breakdown the walls I had built so high, I didn’t even know I was within them. She crawled into my bed and insisted I comfort her (physically not sexually). She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and I am not sure why, but she picked me as the one friend she needed (she had lots of friends, but perhaps she saw something that even I didn’t).

We had an intense friendship that meant we saw each other all the time. That summer we hung out as much as we could. We’d do this thing where we’d have to go try new beers in a new bar every time. One night out with other friends from school, we spent the whole time holed up in the bathroom. One of her friends came in and accused us of being lovers. I laughed it off, neither of us was embarrassed, as we weren’t. I hadn’t even considered it! However that night, sleeping over as I often did, she kissed me. Well tried to. I told her no. Or rather I believe I said ‘not like this’. You see, my walls were still there. I knew I loved her but I hadn’t let myself ever consider anything more. After all, I didn’t know one other person who was gay. Not one! Ellen had come out, but she was a celebrity, no one that I identified with or could relate to. So I just didn’t consider it. I have many friends who are older than me who knew. Who felt it when they were young, when they were around girls. I can honestly say I never did. Until I did.

So as you may guess the friendship ended badly. She didn’t appreciate the rejection and took me as a third wheel on a date (with a guy) a week later. My guess is to prove that she was straight. That she wasn’t interested in me. I am not sure her motives, we didn’t talk about it. I left that night, pulled over on the highway and cried like I had never allowed myself to cry before. I cried until I felt the walls give way, finally giving my heart room to breath. We never spoke again.

However the change in me had started. And now I couldn’t stop it. I started looking into female friendships, trying to figure out why I needed them, no craved them. I was drawn to TV shows with strong female characters and friendships. I joined online chat rooms to discuss them. Through these chats I discovered a whole world of people who were out and proud. Unafraid and apologetically themselves. How brave!

I decided I must be bisexual. Of course, by then my interest in males had completely waned. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since grade school and other than a few drunken, not fun experiences, had no real interest in discovering more about men. After meeting up with some incredible women from my chat groups from Canada and the US, many of us coming out together, I finally ventured into a gay bar with a friend, more confident in myself and who I was, or that who I thought I was. I saw a girl from across the room staring at me. You know the out girl, who knew since she was 14 and had no problems embracing who she was. That was it – hook. line and sinker. And I never looked back.

Now I know I am gay. I would never say 100%, because I do believe the majority of us live in the grey areas, as I said before. Its a sliding scale, its never fixed and hell, who would want it to be. Fluidity is a beautiful thing. It allows us to embrace change. However, in my heart I can only see myself being with women, as this brings me the most happiness, and isn’t that what it is all about? Being happy.

It was a slow start but I’ve been out now 20 years. I’m out to everyone I meet. I have a very important professional job, and I know I can ‘pass’ for straight. However I remember what it was like to feel like something must be wrong with me for not liking boys, to feel completely isolated and alone. What good would I be to this life if I kept this part of me hidden? Who would I be helping, and more importantly who else would feel unseen, if I didn’t live my authentic self?

Who you love shouldn’t define you. But lets face it, it does. My closest friends are all part of this community, because it is a different experience walking through this world with your eyes open. My gayness is an essential part of who I am. I carry it around like a badge of honour. However, I don’t think its that important to define yourself. Rather the most important thing is to be aware. Be present. Listen to what your heart and soul is telling you. Because it knows you, trust me, much better than you know yourself. Just listen. Set aside the fear and chose to exist. In whatever way you define as most authentic self.

MJ — One label at a time

My coming out story isn’t much different than the next person, I suppose. It boils down to the fact that I grew up thinking that being a straight cis-woman was the only option. While I wanted a family, the idea of fulfilling the role of Suzy-homemaker never appealed to me. I didn’t want to be a brainless baby making machine. I wanted an education, a career, and a partnership. I didn’t want what my parents had and it made me sad thinking that I would never get what I wanted, simply because I didn’t think it existed.
Fast-forward a few years and I was a High School Junior with a best friend (I’ll call her L). A best friend, who I thought would stick with me through thick and thin for the rest of my life. Oh how I was wrong. Anywho, through a long series of events L took a chance one night and kissed me. She was more shocked by my lack of negative reaction than I was. I remember thinking “wait, that was it?” and wanting to try it again. And try again we did.
For a little bit of background, I grew up in a Mormon household where I was taught that homosexuality was a sin. I knew that I had an uncle who was gay but I also knew that my Grandma had disowned him back in the 80’s at the height of the AIDS epidemic. So what I knew at that point in my life was being gay was wrong and I’d definitely go to hell if I was gay. So I never said that I was. When friends started to figure out that L and I were dating, I would say “Oh, I’m not gay. I just like L” or “I’m only like 5% into girls, so not really gay”. I was wrong, but I thought I was in love so labels didn’t really matter to me.
As most High School relationships go, our relationship only lasted about 6 months before it was over. I was devastated as she moved on to college and I was left to navigate the rest of high school by myself, without a best friend or a girlfriend. In hindsight I don’t think my devastation was caused by the loss of a relationship but rather with the mountain of questions she left me with. Was I gay? Was it just her I loved? Am I going to hell? Will I ever find someone who loves me? It wasn’t just the usual post-breakup mountain of questions I had to deal with. I was also left questioning my identity. Who I was, down to the core. So what did I do? I tried to get “rid” of my gay feelings and dove head first back into the world of heterosexuality, which didn’t last for long.
I went to college in the very liberal, LGBTQ-friendly state of Massachusetts, where I told my first college roommate that I might be bisexual. I think I chose that label not because I couldn’t pick a side (obviously an incorrect stereotype), but because I never had even kissed a boy before so I felt like it was “safe” to identify as someone who could go either way. So I gave it the good old college try and dated several men during my four years at school. Through many hookups and short lived relationships I kept finding myself saying “Hm, I’m not into him, maybe it’ll be the next guy”. I was always left with an empty feeling in my chest and the thought that maybe I was broken. I couldn’t understand how so many of my peers were able to find a partner and find happiness with that person. Maybe it just wasn’t my destiny?
I never dated any women in college despite all of my friends encouraging me to try. It didn’t feel right to me, probably since my 4 year experiment of dating men wasn’t quite finished yet and a part of me didn’t want to potentially skew the results by adding the gender I knew I had a connection with into the mix. I do have respect for the scientific method after all. It wasn’t until a cold night in October, as I was about to have sex with yet another man who’s name I never bothered to remember, did I realize that this wasn’t for me. I’ll spare you all the graphic details that helped me come to this conclusion, but ultimately I left that guy’s house at 2 A.M., without my socks and the newfound realization that I am, without a doubt, gay. I finally felt free.
I told my friends the next day and I was met with overwhelming support. I waited several months to tell my mom and again, nothing but support. A few months later I told my extended family, and to my surprise once more, full support! I felt a profound sense of relief and also guilt. Why the guilt? Well, I knew I was one of the lucky people in the LGBTQ community and I was thankful for that, but I realized that I just spent the last 5 years of my life battling internalized homophobia. Could you imagine how utterly disgusted I felt with myself? I never had a problem with homosexual people so long as I wasn’t one of them. Here I was with complete support from my family and friends and I felt like a fraud. I felt awful for identifying as part of the LGBTQ family all while I had feelings that it was wrong. I blame a lot of my internalized homophobia on my Mormon upbringing, but I also knew it had something to do with the fact that I’m a perfectionist and wanted a life that was normal. I had a life plan to get a college education, get married in my early twenties, and have children before I was thirty. In my mind, being a lesbian totally derailed that plan and it made me angry. All I ever wanted to be was “normal” and it took me until I was 24-years-old to realize that being normal, is totally fucking overrated.
So, I had officially come out to my family at 22-years-old, but something still felt off to me. I was out, I had gotten over my internalized homophobia and guilt, AND I was actually dating women. What else was missing? I didn’t figure it out until my job had moved me out to Northern California, just outside of San Francisco, and until I had met my best friend. H is a beautiful straight blonde woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t totally have a crush on her. But life isn’t like some of the movies out there and as much as I’d wish she was secretly in the closet and would one day fall in love with me, I know it won’t happen. Oh well, I’m over it. Mostly. Anyway, what I love most about this woman is her confidence to be her authentic self. She doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about her and does whatever she wants simply because it makes her happy. My mind was blown. Who actually lives life like that!? I certainly didn’t.
Eventually, after months of internal debates with myself, I decided to take a page out of her book. I was going to do something because I wanted to do it and I didn’t care about what anyone thought about it. I cut off my long brown hair. I went from having hair halfway down my back to using a buzzer. It was fucking liberating! It took a few haircuts to get the style that I wanted but once I did, damn I looked good. A few months later I went through my entire closet and donated all of my dresses, feminine shirts, and shoes. I started shopping almost exclusively in the men’s clothing department and even bought a custom tailored 3 piece suit. I went from a shy tomboy to a semi-confident soft-butch woman. I was starting to feel a little bit better about myself, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.
Shortly after my extreme makeover, something weird started to happen to me. I was getting misgendered. A lot. But something even weirder caught my attention. I didn’t mind getting misgendered and I never corrected anyone who referred to me with male pronouns. What the hell did this mean now!? I had just gotten comfortable with my sexuality and now I was questioning my gender identity. Was I ever going to find a label that I actually fit into? I felt full of questions again.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t yet. Do I think I’m trans? No, probably not. Am I non-binary? Maybe? Androgynous? Possibly. Am I just a soft-butch lesbian woman who doesn’t give a fuck about labels and loves women? Could be. Will I ever figure it out, who knows? What I do know at this point in my life is that I don’t really care. I don’t care what gender people think I am. I don’t care if the woman who I will eventually fall in love with has a sexual past with partners of different genders. I don’t care what people think because I finally, FINALLY feel some sense of peace within myself. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t think I ever will, but I’m finally living my truth. I don’t hide who I am anymore and I do the things that make me happy. Some days I can’t believe that I spent 24 years of my life living in shame and other days I’m so happy that I’ve spent the last year of my life embracing myself. I know my journey isn’t complete and I know I have more things to discover about myself and my goodness, I can’t wait to see how this goes.
If this ever gets published, and it’s okay if it doesn’t because quite frankly this was cathartic for me to write, but if it does, I hope someone can identify with my story. I hope this helps someone else realize that we are all on our own journeys and there is not one specific timeline you have to follow. It took me 24 years to live my truth. It took my brother 17. It may take someone 5 years or another person 75 years. All that matters is that you are true to yourself. If labels make you happy, use them. If you don’t care for them, that’s okay too! There is no right or wrong way to be yourself so just do it. You’ll be amazed at just how brightly you can shine.

Lesbian

I realized I was a lesbian when I was a mere twelve years old. It wasn’t a huge moment. I remember sitting on the couch and suddenly thinking “I like girls”. I’ve been lucky enough to grow up in an environment where being LGBT is accepted. My parents are accepting, my friends are accepting, and my community is accepting. My story isn’t dramatic, but it’s a piece of me.

I am a bisexual female.

I think I knew in 7th grade. There was a girl named Sarah that I thought was pretty but I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t fully explain. Looking back now I definitely liked her and wanted to be with her. There have been plenty of times since then where I’ve questioned whether I was a lesbian or not. I still struggle with that at times, especially because I think, maybe even more-so than any other identification, bisexual is the most often considered a “phase” so it’s been extremely hard ein okay living in that so-called “phase” space. I am truly and completely attracted to both women and men, but I wouldn’t identify as pansexual either. I am 100% about people being comfortable in their own skin, I just don’t find myself romantically drawn to transgender people. Coming out to my friends was easy because I surround myself with loving and accepting people. But my parents to this day still do not know.

Bisexual

I was in high school and started to realise that I liked both girls and guys at that time I had a lot of homophobic, I wouldn’t say friends but I knew them and I hung around with them for a while so at first I didn’t want to come out because I was scared but then I found the right people and they were accepting so when I finally came out to them they were fully accepting and helped me come out to more of my friends who were also really accepting of me. So basically the thing that helped me was finding the right people to trust. And now if someone asks me about I can answer them without being scared because I know that no matter what I’ll always have the people who helped me in the first place.

I am a bisexual

When I was still a little I always admire girls. But I do fall for guys too. Until the time that I got to have a relationship with a girl. But my family doesn’t know yet about my sexual preferences. Though I am starting to out my self here in Bacolod City which is far from home.

McKinlee- a continuous queer journey of growth

I wrote everything below one evening after discovering Start the Wave. Before now only my notes pages has been witness to my reflections. I am nervous publishing this here- because my thoughts may be an echo chamber and I’ll connect with no-one or because I may actually connect with someone and this is a vulnerable introduction.

My coming out journey started just over a decade ago at 16 and it continues today as I un-learn and re-learn about myself and the world around me.

I have gathered that this is a life long journey of discovering how I wish to live as well as how I wish to uplift all of the other beautiful lives that do not have it as easy as I- a cis white lesbian.

How I display myself in this world has been an up and down journey. Predictably, my lows have come from society and my own preconceived notion of what is “right.” But my highs, they have come from the representation, those who have been fighting long before I, the ones who dare to live authentically and the mountains- who always seem to bring me the most peace within.

Prior to my self discovery I had been called gay slurs for the way I stared too long at girls and the excitement I got from being around my older female teammates. But then I had my first kiss with a girl and I panicked. I realized I liked the secrecy of it. The idea that you have something with someone that no one else knows about. It felt exciting in high school when I very much felt like I was on the outside looking in. I didn’t have the core group of friends I desired but I had the secret of kissing a girl behind the lockers. When I trusted a friend with this secret my worst fears came to fruition. In 2010 I was outed on Facebook when she revealed “my inappropriate behaviors” in a status. The feeling of isolation grew and the bullying increased so I turned to boys.

I began working in downtown Orlando and found my chosen family of queer humans who opened the doors of queer nightclubs to me. I felt accepted, understood, at ease and at home. During this time I also had a thoughtful and beautiful boyfriend who went along on my journey of self discovery and understood when it led to the type of person he was not. At 18 I came out to my parents. I got mixed reactions but in my spiteful teenage years I didn’t care. As I have grown so have they and I feel extremely accepted- even if it did take awhile. I’d dare to say they are even proud now.

I was finally #OUT or as out as you can be when the people close to you know but you keep your relationships hidden, pretend to be straight in a crowd and only tell friends after you suss out if they would be accepting. I had many beautiful dating experiences that never made it to the public eye. I realized that it wasn’t the secrecy I craved, I was just deeply ashamed of who I was. I truly believed that “I just hadn’t met the right guy yet.”

But then Pulse happened. Pulse, a nightclub in downtown Orlando that I found my queerness in. A club that I felt accepted and loved and understood in was attacked and so much of my community was lost. I was living in New Zealand at the time and had 7 roommates who didn’t know I was gay. How could I be ashamed of who I am when my own community dared to be themselves and was murdered for it? How could I watch my community mourn and stay quiet? That moment changed my life. I came out to anyone and everyone who would listen. I bought a pride flag and waved it at the top of mountains I climbed. I screamed it from the rooftops. I became loud, active and involved in my community and most importantly I became proud.

I rode that wave for years as I found friends, lovers, communities and representation. I felt sorrow for those who dare to emit hate into the world. I was out and proud because those who are struggling to get there deserve to see that it gets better. I decided in my late 20’s to go back to school to become a nurse. I moved to a small town knowing that being out would be less than ideal and I could pass as straight. But, I never wanted to go back into the closet or to feel inferior. So I met my new roommates, classmates, workout buddies and community and I came out. And that was the most trivial, anguished, challenging year of my adult life. I experienced the homophobia I had only ever read in newspapers. I began looking over my shoulder and set an alarm for every hour being afraid to stay asleep. My ears rang with gay slurs. I was still proud to be gay but I was not happy. I found solace in the representation I saw in the media- grasping at any and all of it I could find.

And then quarantine happened. At the midst of my depression I moved to my moms and I left that town for good- graduating with a job lined up in a progressive city. But now I had a lot of serious work to do on myself mentally. It was as though the years that I spent exhilarated about my queerness had dissipated. I couldn’t (and sometimes still can’t) look at myself in the mirror.

And then in the recommended section of instagram I saw a post by none other than Dominique. I unfortunately was not familiar with her or her work but I read an incredibly beautiful post about her coming out. Those words took me on a journey that can be described nothing short of otherworldly. That post led me into the incredibly represented world of Wynonna Earp that I can’t even begin to write about because it would supersede this whole post with one far longer and emotionally charged.

Dom’s post made me feel many things again. Proud. Seen. Worthy. Accepted. And Beautifully Queer. The conversation that could come out of me from that one post would take hours to unpack.

The post and this movement has really opened up so many incredibly beautiful conversations to be had about what it means to be queer and how we see ourselves within this identity at different stages of our growth.

I am in a period of regrowing. But I will always be proud. Thank you for this space. Although I can’t individually connect with those on here, I feel universally linked.

Not straight

I’m Katelyn, I’m 14 and I live in small town Louisiana. In 2016, I was 11. This show that my great aunt told me to watch was called supergirl. And supergirl was the first show I had ever seen, as a 4th grader, that had a gay character. Alex Danvers was always my favorite even before she came out. I didn’t want to tell anyone but when she came out I liked her a lot more, and I didn’t know why. At that time I still was convinced I liked boys. I had a “boyfriend” if you can even call it that in the fourth grade. I was not fully aware of lgbtq+ people. My parents never hid it from me but didn’t talk about it directly. My dad’s best friend is a lesbian and had girlfriends and all but I didn’t fully understand what that meant. Until I watched supergirl and I watched as Alex struggled with her feelings and eventually came to terms with it. I continued to watch supergirl religiously until like sixth grade. At this point i had different boyfriend. The only reason I have ever had boyfriends is bc everyone around me began having crushes and boyfriends. I never really liked the boys i dated more than a friend. One of which was my best friend. He said he liked me and asked me out. I felt so nervous and pressured that he would become upset if I said no so I said yes. It was awkward holding his hand or sitting close to him. And when people asked if we were dating I get uncomfortable answering. One day in social studies, my teacher moves me to a table with three other girls all of which were very friendly and funny. We would talk all the time during class and the teacher didn’t care. The girls who sat next to me was my favorite. We became really close in class, but would not talk outside of class because w each had our own friend group. In class one day we cheated together on a test and we sat extra close and we giggled the whole time. She grabbed my hand and I get a rush of nerves I strike inside of me. All of a sudden I had butterflies in my stomachs. I assumed it was because I really wanted her as a friend and we were just becoming really close. So every day we would sit really close and hep each other with work and laugh and y’all and the butterflies were always there. And every once and a while she would touch my arm and I get like I was melting. One day in line for class she made a gay joke at me and I didn’t laugh or smile. I still had never realized that I was attracted to her. She asked “hey, what’s the matter? Wait are you gay?” She whispered respectively in my ear. I stood silent for a while, pondering on what she had said. “I think so.” I said. I didn’t know why I had said it I had never even thought it before she asked. She put an arm around me and said “that’s chill, I don’t really care man sorry for joking about it.” And that was that, I had just come out to someone. And honestly I was ok with it. I had never felt any internalized homophobia or anything like that I never felt ashamed either. One day she asked me if I was okay with telling people. I didn’t see an issue so I said ya tell whoever you want I don’t care, just don’t tell my twin sister (only cause she would tel my family and I wasn’t ready for that. They are accepting and all I just wasn’t prepared at the moment and I’m still not ready). So she began telling her friends who would then come up to me and ask if it was true and I would nod. I went to a private catholic school and surprisingly never faced homophobia. They were all really interested seeing as how most of them had never known or met a gay person before. I became kind of popular. Until people wanted to know how I figured it out, like who I had a crush on. I didn’t want to say it was my best friend so I made up and answer. I chose the prettiest, sweetest girl in my grade. We never talked much but when we did she was very kind and quiet. Everyone believed me. I said don’t gel the girl because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. After a couple of months of telling people I liked this random girl, I began to really notice how pretty and nice she was. My best friend was moved away from me in class and we began to talk less because of it. I began to have feelings for the girl I pretended to like. That girls best friend who was known as a blabber mouth, had been really nice to me and wanted or know who I liked. I told her not to tell the girl and that was the first thing she did. The girl I lied about, and was beginning to have feelings for stopped talking to me. She wasn’t mean about it she just felt uncomfortable which I understand. But it hurt. She wouldn’t even look at me when I spoke in class and avoided me in the lunch line. In seventh grade I eventually realized I was in love with her. I became really really attached to her and I get like crying every time she glanced at me and quickly turned away. Near the end of seventh grade she began to talk to me more and she became more adjusted to my reality. On the one year anniversary of coming out she was the only person, including myself, who remembered and she wished me happy one year. I cried that day. I then realized something devastating, I was going to a different school then the rest of my grade was the following year. They were going to our schools sister school and I was going to a public school. The last day of school I cried so hard. I thought about her everyday of my life until I started my new school. I found out one of my friends was hi and we bonded over that. I get more comfortable in my feelings and sexuality and I eventually graduated from my feelings for that girl. I was free from the burden of obsession I had locked myself into because of the freshness of my emotions. I feel I now, at 14, have a clearer and healthier relationship with my sexuality and I am ok. I’m good and I’m as happy as I can be. I am gay, and I’m ok with that. Girls are pretty, what can I say.