Mommy doesn’t know her daughter is afraid.
She’s afraid of saying the accursed words
that make what was once a “normal” child
into an object of sin.
She’s actually panromantic.
A scared panromantic demisexual.
I absolutely hate the bigotry religion and society has towards people like me. We’re people just like you, and I don’t understand the bling hate and rage you have towards us. We contradict the words Bible and your beliefs, but since when is loving another a sin.
We are not disordered.
We are not dysfunctional.
We are not diseased.
I’ve known I wasn’t straight since seventh grade. Before that, I never knew liking your own gender was even thought about. I was never taught these things as a child. Katy Perry’s “I Kissed A Girl” was sung by a man with a feminine voice, according to myself. Then I figured out Katy Perry was a girl and I thought that song was so wrong.
And then I learned.
Love is love.
It’s hard to come out. I tried it once, with my mother. I was in middle school, and I wrote her a letter in pink and purple pen, explaining to her that I was bi, and that I hoped she and dad still loved me the same. I never gotten the reaction I hoped for, only to get a text after I prompted her that I was still experimenting and this was a phase, though she’d love me no matter what. Maybe that’s a bit self centered, since other kids like me don’t have as much accepting parents as mine. Sorry.
I have always dreamed about having my friends being supportive of me, a backbone.
But if my friends aren’t even positive about a nose ring I wanted to get, scorned me, and poked fun about how in 10 years I’ll be on the streets with piercings and sleeves of tattoos and they’ll drive on by in their fancy cars how am I supposed to even whisper a word of not being straight without them whipping out their toxic words about me now being a dyke, or a fag to that string of “innocent” jokes.
I will come out, eventually. To everyone I love. So, consider this a prequel. A sneak-peak.
I will come out once I feel like I’m no longer required to start off with a “sorry”. No one should feel like it is necessary to say sorry for loving someone. I will come out when I feel that I no longer owe anyone a damn apology for stating the way I am. Because I am what I am, and I can’t change that. I was born this way.
I am in love, and that is nothing to apologize for.
“Let me out of this damned closet,
I promise I don’t bite.
I’m not the accursed thing your parents told you about at night.
Let me out of this damned closet,
I promise you will see,
I’m just a normal person,
Not the demon society and religion have made me out to be.”
– Bear, closeted. (yɒwɿɘƚƨdɘ yɒvyƚiɿɘ)