PRIDE | #WattPride

#MILESTONES

I knew something wasn't 'right' when I started to imagine a life with Brooke in my third year of Primary School. We'd been best friends for as long as I could remember, and we'd always said we'd be there for each other, no matter what. But when I realised what I was thinking, and the stigma around the words that my mind associated with it, I distanced myself. From the age of seven, I was afraid of being ostracised.

I started watching LGBT YouTubers at aged ten, since I had no representation on the television. My grandparents and parents always made fun of the 'queer freaks' they saw on that on TV show I loved, so I bit my tongue.

When I was twelve, I decided I preferred girls. Their soft hands, their warm smiles, their long hair and perfect lashes. I told myself I'd never tell my family; I'd keep it to myself. Maybe we'd date. Gay marriage wasn't legal, I didn't know what I was feeling; all I knew was that my family hated it.

When my nan died a month before I turned 13, I was heart broken to say the least. I had wanted to tell her, tell her I love a girl, but now she was gone. In hindsight I'm grateful; I spoke to my Grandad the other day and he told me how she was so much more homophobic than he was - I was partially relieved. He's accepting now, but he wasn't always.

I've always had rocky relationships. It stems from my dad, I guess. Wow. Wattpad writer with daddy issues. Cliché much? It's true though.

At thirteen I had my first girlfriend. I was still in the closet except for a select few. She was my best friend's sister and everyone seemed to think I was dating her brother. I laughed it off at the time, but I knew something had to go wrong. I was so far in the closet, I swear I could touch Narnia. So when my best friend found out we were dating, that was the beginning of the end. He'd never truly approved of my 'lifestyle', his religion forbade it, apparently. I never asked. He accused me of corrupting his sister. I said nothing. I ended it with her on our one month anniversary. Shitty, I know.

A few months later, I began to come out to people in school. My bisexuality was real and valid, if you didn't accept that, fuck off. I lost more than ten friends that week. I'm still not fully out. My friends came out too, and we bonded. Circle jokes and gay references were our new norm, and I felt a weight lift from my shoulders that I'd been carrying around for years. And I found my next Brooke, but more on that later.

At aged fourteen, I had my first real, meaningful relationship. We were so close and she was amazing. We lived far away, so we sent letters and presents through the mail. My mum found those letters. That my coming out story.

I'd came out to my dad by sending him an Ally Hills (I think) video. He was fine with it, but my Grandad wasn't when I told him that even my shitty despondent father accepted it. Cue the abuse and homophobia. He'd bring me articles that slagged off the community to wind me up, and I'd get in trouble for snapping at his bigotry. He'd blame it on generations, and I was grounded for a month when I quoted glee's "generational change over - crazy uptight bitches dying."

I came out properly to my mum a week ago. She accepted it. I cried. I had anxiety attacks. I moved on.

And then I went remembered when I went crazy.

It wasn't a real crazy, no. It was over a girl. A girl who knows I'm talking about her. She'll know when and if she reads this. Hey.

We liked each other at different times, perhaps our crushes over lapped. I told her at a friends birthday party, and she responded with the fact she'd liked me too. It's like a switch that goes in and off. I'll like her one day, and then I won't think about her for a week. It's odd, but then again, what isn't? I'll support her in everything she does, and as long as she's happy, I'm happy.

This is my first Pride where I'm not afraid to speak out. This is my milestone.