"Jason Pierce?"
"Here." That's me. I'm your average high school teenager. I worry about tests, procrastinate when I should be doing homework, and long to fit in. However, unlike the rest of me peers, I am openly homosexual and that automatically makes me different. People either hate me or they ignore me because they don't want to be treated like I am. Do you know how hard it is to not be accepted for who you are?
The teacher finishes attendance and starts his daily lecture about some important thing in history. No matter how many lectures you hear, or how many books you read, school doesn't prepare you for the twists life brings. I live everyday just trying to stay positive, trying not to let people get to me. I used to live my life in fear and shame, convinced that what I felt was wrong, so sure that people wouldn't accept me. I was half right. I now know that there's nothing wrong with me; I just wish that everyone else could see that.
The teacher was talking about life-changing moments, and I immediately knew what mine was. When she told us that our assignment was to write about it, I didn't even have to think, I just started to write.
* * *
I'm homosexual and the hardest thing I've ever had to do was tell my parents. It took forever before I finally mustered up the courage. What if they hate me like the people at school do? I'd like to believe that they'd love me for who I am, but what if they don't? I couldn't stand it if they thought I was some kind of freak.
The day I told them I hadn't really been paying much attention in English, but what I heard really hit home.
"...And just like in all books, the truth always catches up to the lies. Why do you think people continue lying, even when they know they can never keep it up?"
Ms. Jarvis nodded to a student with a raised hand, and the girl answered. "Because a lot of people tend to think in the present. 'I'll deal with it later; one lie isn't going to hurt.' But of course, one lie leads to another, and eventually it gets out of hand and it gets harder and harder to keep it up."
"Very good..." She went on, but I got lost in thought (again). I had been thinking in the present, and it needed to stop. I promised myself that no matter what, I would tell them tonight.
* * *
The rest of the school day went by entirely too fast, and before I knew it, it was almost time for dinner. I took a deep breath. Just breathe Jason; everything's going to be okay. Before I could talk myself out of it I went into the kitchen.
My parents always cooked together, or at least hung out. They didn't have a lot of time together, what with my dad being a professor and my mom a secretary, so they worked out a system. They would each get home around 5:30, and they would go to the kitchen. If it was something simple, one would cook, and the other would just sit and they would talk. It was a time for them to catch up, to talk about problems, and I was glad they had it. Tonight however, I was going to be a part of it too.
Dad was draining the pasta, (we were having spaghetti) and Mom was setting the table. Dinner time was one of the only times we were all together, and my mom didn't want to lose that. I slowly walked into the room.
Mom looked up and smiled. "Hey Sweetie, how was your day?"
I forced a smile. "It was good. You?" I went and grabbed the rolls and set them in the center of the table, along with the butter.
"You know how it is. Boring, but it's money in our pockets." She smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. My mom is one of the most positive people I know, always seeing the good in everything, and I prayed she would be that way now.
Dad put the pasta in a bowl and set it on the table. As soon as we were all sitting, I sighed and said, "Mom...Dad...Can I talk to you about something?"
My parents seemed to look up at exactly the same time. I could feel both of their eyes on me. "What's up Son?" Dad asked.
"Um..." How exactly are you supposed to tell your parents something like this? Just go out and say it? I looked into both of their concerned faces, wondering if this would be the last time they looked at me with love in their eyes.
"Did something happen at school?" Mom asked.
I shook my head. "You'll always love me, no matter what, right?"
Mom nodded fervently. "Of course, you're our son. Did you do something?"
I sighed. "I am something." I could tell that they didn't understand. I twisted my fork around my plate. "I'm-I'm gay."
They both looked at me, clearly shocked. I guess with so little time together, they didn't really notice that I am...different. I looked from one face to the other, praying for someone to say something.
"Are-Are you sure?" Leave it to Mom. No, I just think that I might be gay, so I decided to put myself through endless ridicule. I simply nodded. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Honestly? I was scared. I know you guys love me, but after seeing the way people at school handled it..."
Mom interrupted me. "You told people at school?"
"When you're around the same people all day every day, they start to notice things. I finally decided to stop hiding it."
"But you continued to hide it from us." Those were not the first words I wanted to hear my dad say.
"I didn't know how to tell you, I..." I couldn't find the words to explain.
"You did just fine tonight."
"Paul..." Mom tried to console him.
"He's been lying to us Anna, doesn't that bother you?" Dad slammed his fork down. So not how I wanted this to go.
"Well, a little bit, but put yourself in his shoes. You know how mean those kids at school can be."
Dad's face softened slightly, so I took it as an opening to at least attempt to explain. "I'm sorry, Dad, I really am. At first I didn't know, and then when I did I tried to find the right way to tell you. When I witnessed how people at school reacted, I feared the worst. I'm still the same person Dad, just a little different."
He seemed to stare at me for hours, and I wished I knew what he was thinking. Is he ashamed? I read somewhere that parents sometimes blame themselves for "what happened" to their kids, is that what he's doing? Does he think he's responsible for the way I turned out? Is he going through the past, trying to find out where he made his mistake? The silence was killing me; I wanted to shout that nothing was wrong with me, that none of this was his fault, or mine, it's just what happens.
I looked to my mom, and she seemed to sense what I was feeling. "I told you Honey, we'd always love you, no matter what." She turned to my father. "Right Paul?"
I looked at him expectantly, holding my breath as I waited for his answer. He just looked me in the eye, very serious, and said, "Patriots or Giants?"
I smiled. "Patriots," I answered confidently.
My dad smiled, and I swear I could have jumped for joy. "That's my boy."
Those words, those three small words, changed my life. If my parents could handle this, if my dad could make jokes during a time like that, then I knew that I would be able to tell them anything. I knew that they would always be there for me. It was one of the happiest days of my life.
Since then, I have found it easier to get through the school day. Yes, people still treat me like I'm a freak, and yes, I still have to put up with endless name calling, but knowing that I can go home and not have to hide anything, knowing that they accept me for who I am, nothing else matters.
