Something's Wrong With the Different Realms

Twenty-Three: Acceptance & Improvement

Many boxes later and we were about to give up when Miley emerged from the end of the attic near the window with a large cookie tin. "I think this is what we're looking for," she said as she placed the box on the circular rug in the middle of the attic.

We opened the tin and found an old photo album tucked away. We flipped it open and our mom and dad's faces peered back at us. The first few photos were cheesy photos of them as a couple kissing or smiling at the camera. The next few took me by surprise. There was a photo of a crowd, and each person in the crowd was holding a sign. One of them read "love is love." The next photo was one of my mom smiling and proudly holding a sign that said something about her being a Christian but believing in love.

Miley and I looked at each other at the same time. "Wait a minute..." I muttered.

I flipped through the rest of the photos in the book. There were some of my parents at other movements and protests. There was a photo of my mom protesting against Islamophobia after 9/11 with Ms. Daher when they were young. A few of my mom in feminist movements, proudly holding signs and a photo that showed my mom's frustration against the conditions of the economy in the Great Recession of 2008. My parents were much different than I thought they would be.

The last photo in the album caught me by surprise. It was a photo of someone in the hospital on life support, their face was all beat up, their eyes were swollen, there was a gash on their forehead and a tube shoved down their throat. I looked at the message under the photo which read "stay strong Julie." Then I remembered what my mom mentioned to Ms. Daher about something bad happening to her.

"Is that mom?" Miley asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, but let's put this back."

Miley agreed and we placed the photo back into the tin, and the tin back on the shelf in the attic. We'd gotten what we needed. Miley flicked off the switch and we made our way down the attic, before heading downstairs to the living room to continue our conversation.

"So I have a feeling that our parents won't mind you being gay," Miley said, crossing her legs and propping a hand against her chin.

"Yes, I guess I'll tell them tomorrow once I prepare a speech to read from. If I don't, I'll choke up and blurt out something embarrassing."

"You don't have to tell them if you don't want to or if you're not ready to," Miley patted my arm. "Besides, I have a feeling that bringing up any political viewpoint or topic or whatever will bring up bad memories for them. A.K.A. whatever happened that led up to our mom being hospitalized."

"I think I want to tell them, I think I should own my identity. I should probably join the school's GSA or something. I don't know."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" asked Miley, reaching for the last cookie. "What happened that made you change your mind?"

My face fell. "Um... Isla brought up some things. And... they hurt but they were true."

"Okay. You know you don't have to tell me if you don't want to but if you do, I'll listen and I'll try not to judge you."

I beamed, "thank you. I'm going to take a moment to think about how I want to say it though."

I paused and thought back to the argument that Isla and I had the other day at the café. I cowered in embarrassment when I remembered what I'd said to Isla in anger about her not being my friend. I was mad but it was no excuse, it felt like I'd taken a knife and stabbed her with it in a daze. It was something I couldn't take back and I hated it.

"The other day, something happened. A friend of mine told me and Isla a huge secret. And it was so sudden and unexpected so Isla and I decided to meet at Your Majesty's the next day to talk about it. We had different opinions on it. Isla wanted to help them and I didn't so this escalated into a full-blown argument where Isla called me privileged for not helping them out. I didn't want to. Then, I told her that she wasn't my friend and she left."