ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ

E&

        I'm a girl and I'm attracted to boys. For as long as I can remember that feeling was natural and it was an easy thing to say because I witnessed it all the time; girls liking boys and boys liking girls. In the second grade, my best friend told me that she had a crush on a boy in our class. This time, however, something dense grew in the pit of my stomach; it was jealousy. At first I thought it was because I liked the boy she liked and I felt threatened by her, but I knew I didn't have any feelings for him, so what was it?

        Later I understood that I was jealous that she liked him and not me.

        I got used to relating with the other girls' celebrity crushes, not mentioning my special ones. Simply explaining that girls were pretty and attractive to me never seemed like a conversation that would have a smooth ending. Whenever any LGBT related topic came up at the dinner table, I'd bite the insides of my cheeks as my family made borderline homophobic remarks. What does it even matter if people know who I'm attracted to? I'm still me. I just have to wait for the right time.

        When is the right time? What are the perfect conditions? I can't do it now because there are bigger things to worry about. I can't do it now because she's not in a good enough mood. I can't do it now because this place is too casual. I can't do it now because it's too close to a holiday and I don't want to associate the two. I can't do it now because I don't like the outfit I'm wearing right now. I can't do it now because the date is an odd number and I like even numbers. I can't do it now because I just can't.

        Club day, out in the grassy area of my high school at the beginning of Freshman year. In the muggy September weather, all the school's clubs were tabling and trying to attract new members, using all the cards; candy, cookies, stickers, college application opportunities, you name it. My friends and I weaved through the crowd of students, signing up for clubs we had no intention in joining just so we could eat the free food. I'm munching down on a partly melted chocolate-chip cookie when I catch someone staring at me. A petite girl with bobbed hair and overall shorts was standing about five yards away from us and wouldn't remove her eyes from me, even after I caught her. Seconds went by, each feeling like a minute, of me watching her watching me from the corner of my eye. I started a little when she broke into a huge friendly grin and waved at me. This time giving her my full attention I smiled back, my body tense because I don't know this person. Without removing her gaze from mine she walked confidently over to my group.

        "Hi there," she greeted me bubbly. I gave her another wide smile to cover up the fact that something about this interaction was making me unnerved. She expectantly held something out for me and I grabbed it. "You should join the GSA Club!" My pulse instantly picked up and I glanced at the LGBT sticker I'd just been handed.

        I thanked the girl and she walked off content with herself. I've never told anyone. Do I have a vibe? Did she know? I'm clearly with a group of people so why did she only address me? Can everyone else tell, too? I quickly turned to my friends and feign bewilderment and to my bittersweet relief they laugh along with me. Funny.

        Though I knew it was doubtful maybe I could find better results from my family and so I decided to retell the story to my family that night. I tried to be humorous and unobjective to keep things light but I'm the only one laughing when I finish. My mom, my dad, and my sister all looked back at me solemnly; I began to shrink in my chair, a hopeless, guilty grin still plastered on my face.

        "You're not actually gay, are you?" my mom finally asked, the cadence of her question stung with venom. A lump of frustration formed in my throat from the bluntness of her words. Panicked, I just snorted at the ludicrous assumption.   

        I sat in my room and calculated my next attempt, hoping to try again in a month or so. I wanted things to be known on my terms but it's hard to accept that you just can't control how others react. But this wasn't an experiment, this was me wanting to be accepted by the people I care about. Later, my sister came into my room and didn't leave until I promised her I wasn't a lesbian.

        I'm not. I like guys too.

        I would like to say that this story has a kind ending and that I've learned to accept myself and revealed myself to my family. I haven't. This story occurred three years ago and I'm still closeted. Most of my friends know so there's some character development I guess. My family is conservative (my-father-voted-against- gay-marriage-in-my-state-conservative). My sister calls people f*gs and refers to less feminine females as dykes. My mother asks why her friends choose to be gay when they are not around. I still love my family and I know it could be worse and it is definitely difficult, but I know it will get better. Maybe I shouldn't be sharing this story; it feels unfinished and lugubrious. Maybe I should have waited until I've become triumphant and prideful, but this has been waiting for a conclusion for three years. I want to remember what mistakes and blunders I've had to overcome to get to my strongest moments. You have to have been weak to show that you have strengthened. Bravery is nothing without something to fear. I will be better, as can you or any other person who may be struggling to find themselves right now. May we meet again when my story becomes inspirational.