To my mother,
You raised me in a household that taught me to respect everyone, regardless of where they came from or the color of their skin. You taught me poise, elegance, and to help everyone. You taught me modesty and to be grateful for everything I have. You showed me strength and forgiveness. I watched as my father walked out on you and 5 young children; you kept your head high. You were strong for me and my younger siblings. I learned at a young age that even the people you love and trust can hurt you. You taught me how to turn off my heart. I didn't want to end up heartbroken like you. This quickly took a toll on my self-confidence and self-love. I wasn't letting anyone in. I thought I would be able to keep myself from that heartbreak.
You watched me take home The Perks of Being a Wallflower from the local library. I quickly took a liking to Patrick. He was different than everyone else. He liked boys. That was a new concept for me. The only thought running through my mind was "if he could like boys in that way, i can like girls in that way, too." I was barely 11 years old when first introduced to this new topic. I thought it was normal. No one ever told me that everyone has their own opinion on it. I thought you, mom, would be okay with it too. I opened up about this interesting new topic to you and asked you if I could be in love with a girl some day. You quickly told me it was wrong; something dirty and unnatural. I replied, "it's love, mom. How can love be wrong?" My ideas were quickly shut down, the book was taken away from me and I was sent to my room. I didn't understand why you were so against me, one day, being in love with another woman. As if it were some scandal. I was convinced that it was because love hurt you before and you didn't want me to end up the same way. The only thing I wanted to do was make you happy. I ignored my new idea and went on with the awkward stages of middle school.
I then had my first crush on a girl. I was 12 and a new girl walked into my 7th-grade homeroom. She was tall and had long hair and wore different kinds of braids in her hair every day. I immediately wanted to be her best friend and hold her hand. During one of our gym classes, our couch held tryouts for our junior high track and field team. I guess I was staring for a little too long and a girl turned to me and asked, "are you a lesbian?" I quickly denied, not even knowing what the word meant. I ended 7th grade without even saying a word to her. After my 13th birthday, I kissed a boy for the first time. Long story short, I got home and cried all night. I thought kissing a boy would "cure me" of the crushes on girls I was having. Spoiler alert, it didn't. I still loved girls.
I continued to suppress my "dirty" feelings to make you happy. I was an honor roll student, top of my freshman class, a part of NHS, and student council representative. But I wasn't happy. You would go to all the family gatherings and brag to the family about what I was doing that week. "No time for a boyfriend?" was usually the question I got and I laughed it off. My cousin, maybe about 10 years old, shouted, "Serena, it's like you're gay or something!" It felt as if someone was watching our family dinner on a TV show and pressed the mute button. My face turned beet red, like everything else relating to a relationship or my love life, I laughed it off. "That's ridiculous!" I responded, trying not meet eyes with anyone. "I just don't have time for a boyfriend right now. There's too much on my plate."
When I was 14, I confided my new feelings in one of my closest friends. I told her that I might be, maybe a little, in the slightest bit, a lesbian. She wanted to test out my theory. She grabbed my face and pecked her lips onto mine. It was as if all the stars aligned. It was perfect. Even though it only lasted a few seconds, those were the best few seconds I ever lived. I didn't even have feelings for her and it was better than any kiss I ever had with a guy. She asked me if my theory was right and I was too scared to tell her the truth so, denial, denial, denial.
Mom, I came out to you later that year. I figured it would like the movies and the books. Everyone always ended up happy. That wasn't my story. I told you everything. You were worried about what the family was going to think or how it was going to affect your job. I told you none of that mattered because I was finally able to be happy. You told me what I was doing was dirty. It was wrong. That I was going to hell. You said that I'm not the type of person another can love.
I believed you for a long time.
Mother, It's different now. I love who I am and who I've grown into. And I'm in love with someone and she makes me so happy. Distance is an issue but like they say, "distance makes the heart grow fonder." We are making it work. I hope you can see how happy I have become. I hope you realize that it's okay to be gay. Love is love. And love is a beautiful thing.
-Your queer daughter
