First of all, I want to apologize to those of you who check my blog every week hoping for a new post. I know who you are, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be making any new posts for a while. Extenuating circumstances have sapped most of my enthusiasm for writing. In short, life’s been a b*tch. Yeah.
But that’s not the main reason I’m writing this post. I’ve decided to post this because
- I’m done with hiding a part of myself, at least online. (For the people who know me offline and still check this blog, I ask you not to judge me.)
- This is a backwards way of telling my friends who still read my blog who I am. Because otherwise, I’m terrible at saying stuff like this in person and would
probablydefinitely f*ck it up.
- I felt like writing about something I really care about and actually showing it to people, for once.
A few things you should know about this post:
- This was originally written in response to a prompt my teacher gave us in class once.
- I’m still figuring my sh*t out, so don’t take the last sentence as set in stone. I’m still working myself out.
- Read the whole thing before you comment below, yeah?
- The statistics provided about Floridian law in one of the last few paragraphs are sourced from trustworthy material and are completely true as of March 10th, 2014.
- A few warnings for homophobic/transphobic slurs and treatment.
Alright, here we go.
(In response to the prompt: “Have you ever broken someone’s heart? Have you ever had your heart broken?”)
As far as I can remember, I have never broken someone’s heart. Sure, I had the typical screaming matches with my parents, family, and former friends, but both members always seemed to bounce back from those fights, and there were many occasions of teary reconciliation on both ends. And you know what? I’m happy that I’ve never broken a heart. I’m happy that I’ve never had my heart broken, I am!
But, I’m also scared.
I’m scared that I’ll break my family’s heart when I tell them I’m not straight. I’m scared that my heart will break when I come out. I’m scared that by coming out, I’ll unearth deeply-rooted homophobia in parts of my family tree. I’m scared that my aunts, uncles, and cousins who are deep believers in heterosexuality will shun me. Hell, the atmosphere in my extended family was bad enough when one of my cousins got pregnant before she was married, and she was 22 and engaged at the time. If three of my aunts had the audacity to completely ignore her for months, what might happen to me when they find out I’m not straight? I’m scared that I won’t be accepted at family reunions, should I choose to bring a girlfriend along. I’m scared because I’ve heard of hate crimes and lynchings for less. A Muslim girl living in the US was killed because her father saw her holding hands with another girl, so what would happen to me if I were to kiss a girl in the company of certain relatives?
I’m scared that I’ll estrange some of my friends when I come out to them. I’m scared that I’ll never be looked at the same way again. I’m scared that I might lose the friendships of people I value, and I’m afraid because I know that that will hurt me. I’m scared that some people will spread nasty rumors about me at school, and I’m scared because I won’t know how to handle them. I’m scared because one of my friends who lives on the other side of the country suffers from severe gender dysphoria and isn’t allowed to dress like a boy or take testosterone because his parents are unsupportive and bigoted, and when he calls me and cries into the phone, I can’t do anything to help him. I’m scared because one of the people I know was severely injured, almost raped, and nearly killed because he chose the wrong person to come out to. I’m scared because when one of my friends called another boy a faggot, a tranny, and a shemale because of his haircut, no one called them out on it. I’m scared because some of my friends have been bullied because they were brave enough to be themselves. I’m scared because I’ve heard horror stories about students, parents, and teachers bullying high school, middle school, and even elementary school kids because of their sexual or gender identity. I’m scared because sometimes, one of my friends makes a homophobic joke and everyone laughs along.
I’m scared because same-sex marriage is currently banned in Florida, and, because of the huge number of conservatives in my state, doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon. I’m scared because, according to Florida law, I wouldn’t have the right to visit my wife if she were to be hospitalized, because we’d technically be a same-sex couple; because if I married a woman, our marriage wouldn’t be legally recognized in 33 out of 50 states in the US; because Florida law does not give me any protection against employment discrimination if I were open about my sexuality or gender identity; because if I wanted to rent an apartment with a girlfriend, there aren’t any current state laws that would stop a business from refusing us rental based on our sexuality. I’m scared because there hasn’t been a Florida law passed yet that addresses school bullying based on sexual or gender identity.
I’m scared because if I ever become a published author, I know that some parents would shun my work because of my sexuality, as if that were related to what I put down on paper. I’m scared because some people say that the abbreviation ‘LGBTQIAP+’ is “too confusing” for them, and refuse to recognize the ‘QIAP+’ part of their community. I’m scared because when Rick Riordan made one of the characters in the Heroes of Olympus series gay, people said that sexuality was something too confusing for children to understand, as if the romance between Percy and Annabeth was something not addressing sexuality. I’m scared because up until the age of 12, I wasn’t aware that any sexuality other than being hetero was normal or allowed, and I thought of myself as wrong, a freak, needing to be fixed. I’m scared because the other day I read an article about a little boy who killed himself, because one day he wore a pink dress to school and he was hated so much because of that clothing choice that he couldn’t stand it. I’m scared because I’ve seen normal people called nasty names and made jokes of and targeted because they had the audacity to be openly gay or bi or pan or ace or gray-a or demi or trans or bigender or genderqueer or genderfluid or anything that’s not the cisgender heteronormative way of life.
I’m a closeted pansexual gender-questioning teenage girl who’s scared of breaking hearts and having her heart broken, and I don’t know what to do.