Tam sits quietly in a college campus library amidst the dusty relics of Greek and Roman Mythology, fully recognizing the irony of feeling helpless among so many gods.
Cellphone in hand, Tam types out another social media status, knowing it will never be posted. Words like "non-binary" and "gay" appear on the small screen, but are deleted, thinking of the look on Grandma's face. Tam does not want to be the cause of family drama; there has been more than enough of that in the last few years.
Tam is pretty sure the family has their suspicions, but no one has come out and asked.
More irony, Tam thinks.
Tam remembers first hearing of the existence of the they/them pronouns. It felt both strange and wonderful to use them in the beginning—as if finally learning a native tongue one was always meant to speak. The more Tam became involved in the LGBTQIA+ community on their campus, the more natural it felt. It helped to be around others who struggled with voicing similar identity questions. It also helped answer some of those questions for Tam.
Within their tight knit community, Tam feels confident and accepted. Their partner, Virgo, is also non-binary, but that is beautifully irrelevant in their social circles. Tam smiles at the very thought of them. They have both overcome so many personal obstacles, and yet their love feels sweet and innocent.
Tam closes their eyes and takes a deep breath. "Call Mom," they say quietly into the phone. She answers before the first ring finishes.
"Hi, Sweetie!"
"Hey, Mom." Tam tries to keep their voice from showing any signs of anxiety.
"What's wrong?" A mother always seems to know.
"Nothing's wrong," Tam lies. "I just wanted to ask you a quick question."
Silence.
"Um, I was wondering if I could bring my friend, Virgo, home with me over Spring Break?" Tam rushes the question, hoping to give their mom less time to process the request.
"Your friend's name is Virgo?" Laughter escapes her lips before she continues. "Is this Virgo a boy or a girl?"
"Actually, Mom," Tam says as they grimace at the idea of trying to answer the question, "I forgot Virgo is actually staying here for Spring Break. You know, lots of papers to write and stuff. "
"Well, your friend is more than welcome—"
"No, no. It's okay. Thanks, anyway," Tam says and hastily hangs up the phone. They wipe their sweaty palms on their jeans and try to calm their racing heartbeat. They hate feeling this way, and they hate that society has made them feel this way. Tam originally hoped that they could finally tell their parents—that having Virgo by their side would make it easier. Maybe not.
Tam tries to think back to when they first felt...different. Was it being confined to the gender roles of their childhood and just not fitting in? Or was it later in high school when dating and sexuality were explained in over-simplified binary terms to which Tam didn't feel fully connected?
They realize it wasn't a specific moment or event. It was just who they always were—and who they always will be.
In a fleeting moment of utter confidence, Tam types out one more message to the world of social media. They hit the "post" button and close their eyes. After a moment, Tam opens their eyes and looks around the library. Nothing is changed. Nothing feels different, and yet, everything feels different. Tam smiles.
The cellphone suddenly buzzing in their hand makes them jump. Tam looks at the screen and debates on not answering it. And it begins, they think.
"Hi, Mom," they say as they answer the call.
"I just saw your post," she begins, "and I want to tell you how disappointed—"
"Look, Mom," Tam interrupts her. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but this is who I am. And I'm not going to apologize for it. You can accept me or not." Tam blinks back the tears forming in their eyes.
"No, Sweetie," their mom says, "I was going to say I'm disappointed that you felt you couldn't tell me. Of course you don't have to apologize to me, or to anyone, about who you are!" Her voice is thick with emotion as she continues, "I just love you so much!"
Tam's tears take over their face as they hear the words they imagined for so long finally come to life. "What about Grandma?" They finally say.
"You let me deal with her," their mother says. "I am so proud of you!"
"Thanks, Mom," Tam tells her. "For everything."
"And please tell Virgo he, or she, or they, is welcome in our home anytime," their mom says.
Tam disconnects the call and sighs with relief. They know life is never going to be easy, but for today, it's enough to know that life is good.
