my rant and art and everything else book

Q/A I guess

This is a story of my realization that I was a bitch.

Just kidding. This is about me realizing that I was a gay bitch.

Sort of. 

(This request was from @my_favorite_natasha.)

(Trigger warning. Talk of self-harm, mental shit, and language.)

So let's start in the beginning. 

I was in fourth grade, so four years ago, and I realized that I liked girls. But it was really subtle. It was like when every other girl was talking about kissing boys and all that mushy shit, I was thinking about how pretty this girl looked when she smiled. Or when she wore her hair down. Or when she laughed. 

I was simping. Hard. 

And damn I still am. 

So anyways, I thought that I was a monster. I thought that since I was looking at girls instead of boys that I was wrong. I went to girl scout camp that summer and mentioned it, and the girl that I shared a bunk with told me that, "If you like girls, you're going to Hell and no one will ever love you." And I took that fucking hard, man. 

When I went home, I didn't tell my mom what had happened. I didn't tell her about that one girl that shared a bunk with me, I didn't tell her how almost all of the councelors wore rainbow and how I saw a pair of them kissing behind the mess hall, and I didn't tell her how I kissed a pretty girl on the cheek after we went swimming. 

I didn't tell her and that's what made everything worse, in a sense, but also better. 

Eventually I got a phone, and texted my friends a shit ton. We talked about sexuality and feelings and shit and I came out to a lot of my friends through the phone. It was all new to me, a stupid fifth grader. I had it until sixth grade when my mom caught me texting about something bad that I had done. 

(Trigger warning right now)

Over that weekend, I had harmed myself. I just sat there and thought, just one won't hurt, and one didn't hurt. So I did more. 

I got to way too many to count, but there really wasn't any evidence that I had done it because I did it everywhere, on my stomach, on my thighs, on my arms, and it felt good but not great. 

So I waited and told my best friend about it. But I didn't really tell him everything. I told him that I had tried to hurt myself but I didn't, which was a lie. I begged him not to tell anyone, and he said that he wouldn't, which I was grateful for, but in the end it didn't change anything. 

My mom still found out and I got my phone taken away until the first quarantine. 

But back to the past. 

She took the phone away and set me up with a therapist. 

Now I fucking love my therapist. She's is such a nice person and I really look up to her as a person.

I went there every week on Tuesdays and told her everything. My mom, on the other hand, only knew about what I wanted her to know. Which was not a lot. 

When I came out to my mom the first time, I told her that I liked girls and boys, but not so much boys. (No offence to any of you lads out there, I respect you, but I just don't find you attractive if that makes sense)

I told my mom not to tell anyone, like my dad. Because I was going to tell him myself. 

And you know what my mother did right after that?

She went and fucking told him. 

That bitch.

I went to tell my dad and he ALREADY KNEW. I wanted to hit something, break something, fucking run away, I was so mad. But I didn't because that wasn't going to solve anything. 
And you know what happened next? 

My mother went and told my grandparents about it too. 

Now I'm trying to keep my cool just writing this, but it's really fucking hard to when it's something that personal to you that someone just goes and fucks up and tells everyone about. 

Deep breath in out in out in out. I'm good now. 

I told my mom about this girl I had a crush on, and that changed everything. She limited sleepovers with ANY GIRL to zero for about six months. And every time that I mention it, she just locks up, like she's scared of it. Which maybe she is. 

Now, when I want to talk about my gay problems, I can't talk about them with her. I have found a sort of refuge in my aunt though. She's probably the coolest person in the fucking DIMENSION so you can enter the competition but she wins the trophy. 

And now I'm really not into dudes. The gay boys and the straight ladies can have those. I love you gentlemen though, you're beautiful, but not for me. 

I'm a lesbian now, and I'm proud. 

Now, my friends consist of an adorable bisexual baby boy, who I love (platonically), a pansexual douche bag, another bisexual who I actually love but is a girl, two straight-ass girl hoes, and a real life incarnation of Freddie Krueger. 

Oh and there's all of you too. Shit. 

But they accept me and that's what fucking matters. 

This has been my TED talk.