Turning a Straight Girl Gay

Chapter 7: Home Sweet Home

I tried not to let it show that I was having a mental breakdown by changing the topic inside my head to what would happen next. The car ride home was a quiet one. Lacy rode home with her parents, only after a reassuring promise from me that I'd come see her as soon as possible. On the drive home, I couldn't help but wonder what was in store for me. Lectures? Yelling? More abuse? Pain was a definite answer. Most likely yelling too. I always listen to my mom talk about how disguisting lesbians and gay people were and it always made me so mad. I always wondered her reaction if she found out... Never thought she'd find out this way. 

I pulled up to my own house for the first time in what seemed like forever after all that had occurred in the past day or so. Taking my time, I walked cautiously into the house to get a painful rushed hug from my little brother. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table with that "We need to talk" look. (you know that look every teenager dreads) Home sweet home.. As soon as I slowly and painfully sat down in my usual chair, I felt their disappointed stairs. I didn't know where to begin. Just as I was trying to fumble out some words that I've rehearsed in my head for years, I realized my mind was blank. As I started to apologize, my dad got out of his chair, walked over to mine, gently helped me stand up and embraced me in the warmest and longest hug I've ever received from my father. He whispered in my ear, "It's okay", and sat back down. My mother then burst into tears and starts yelling at me, "How could you?!, you're going to hell for this, I hope you know that!!! I have never been so disappointed in you!" And that's when I finally lost it. All the hatred I've contained from my mother for so many years wanted out. And for the first time in my life I let it out. "It's not a choice!!! Love is love!", I screamed. "I've tried, oh how I've tried to not like girls. It's not something I can change about myself. It's just who I am!" I then broke down for the first time in front of my parents, and sobbed into my hands while muttering over and over, "It wasn't my choice"

My dad then tried to comfort me. That was the last thing I wanted. I stormed out with my mother yelling in the background for me to get back there. "I'm not done with you, young lady." She then ran up to me, yanked me by my sore shoulder and smacked me across the face. "Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!!", she screamed in my face. My dad then dragged her to their room and locked her in there with him to calm her down. Brave man, I thought to myself as I went downstairs. I quickly piled my important belongings and enough clothes for at least a few days into a bag, almost too teary-eyed to see what I was putting in there. I quickly scribbled a note for my dad and an ugly message for my mother and left my house, not certain when I'd be back.