Posted: 24 Dec 2011 08:43 AM PST
Growing up, I always spent more time with my brother than I did with my sisters. We would play with hot wheels, throw toy airplanes, and spent a great deal of time playing with his model train set. Back then, I didn't understand those so called gender binaries. I did not know what gay meant, and I did not know that most girls liked boys. There were no labels, and although I did not quite understand why everyone bought me a Barbie for Christmas when I had asked for a toy truck, I was happy just being me.
StarsIt was not until my first year of middle school that I began to experience what I later learned was homophobia. Until then, I had been content in calling myself a tomboy and most people had agreed. The way I dressed, however, quickly made me the target of pre-teens and young teenagers that had only recently heard the word "gay" themselves. The teasing quickly became constant and progressed as I moved up in grades. By the time I was in eighth grade, I was known as "the lesbian". I hadn't actually ever been with a girl, or even kissed a girl, but everyone felt certain that I had. I knew I was attracted to some girls, but I felt it didn't matter since I had never actually even held another girls hand. The teasing didn't phase me as much as the other girls hoped it had, and I suppose that inadvertently led to more taunting.
I was in grade eight when I met my first real crush. She was openly bi-sexual which had always struck me as odd. Back then, I didn't understand how someone could be so sure about it when they were still so young. Still, I never questioned her or judged her for it. I only accepted her and quickly became one of her closest friends. Through her, I was pulled into a world that would later become my own. I learned that she wasn't the only openly bi-sexual or even homosexual person in my class, and I became friends with many of them. Of course, this further encouraged the other students to pick me apart, but it didn't matter because I'd finally found a group of people that were willing to accept me as I was.
It wasn't until high school that I really came to terms with my sexuality. She and I soon became more than just friends. In the beginning, it was hard. She had always been so open about her own life. Everyone knew who she was, and despite the fact that many people didn't accept her as such, she had always been happy just being. She was truly comfortable with her identity, and I often envied her that. For months, she encouraged me to come out. She swore that I would feel relieved when I finally did, and told me that no matter what others thought about it and had to say about it, that I would still be the person I was the day before they knew. So, one day, I decided to take her advice. I told my mother, my sisters, my brother, and my friends. Not all of them were supportive, and not all of them were surprised, but I still felt relieved.
She and I were together for much of my high school life. We went our separate ways after about two years, and I haven't spoken to her since. She will always be remembered, however, as the one who helped me come to terms with my identity. My first experience with not only love, but homosexuality and the acceptance thereof.
StarsI was in grade eight when I met my first real crush. She was openly bi-sexual which had always struck me as odd. Back then, I didn't understand how someone could be so sure about it when they were still so young. Still, I never questioned her or judged her for it. I only accepted her and quickly became one of her closest friends. Through her, I was pulled into a world that would later become my own. I learned that she wasn't the only openly bi-sexual or even homosexual person in my class, and I became friends with many of them. Of course, this further encouraged the other students to pick me apart, but it didn't matter because I'd finally found a group of people that were willing to accept me as I was.
It wasn't until high school that I really came to terms with my sexuality. She and I soon became more than just friends. In the beginning, it was hard. She had always been so open about her own life. Everyone knew who she was, and despite the fact that many people didn't accept her as such, she had always been happy just being. She was truly comfortable with her identity, and I often envied her that. For months, she encouraged me to come out. She swore that I would feel relieved when I finally did, and told me that no matter what others thought about it and had to say about it, that I would still be the person I was the day before they knew. So, one day, I decided to take her advice. I told my mother, my sisters, my brother, and my friends. Not all of them were supportive, and not all of them were surprised, but I still felt relieved.
She and I were together for much of my high school life. We went our separate ways after about two years, and I haven't spoken to her since. She will always be remembered, however, as the one who helped me come to terms with my identity. My first experience with not only love, but homosexuality and the acceptance thereof.
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