LGBTQIA. It stands for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex, Allies.

Most people say this group shouldn’t “force their lifestyle on others” or that “all homosexuals are going to hell because God said it’s a sin.” This leaves me to wonder, am I going to hell?

Let me tell you something. If I had the choice to choose my sexuality, I would be straight. I’m not striving for normality, I’m just afraid. As are most LGBTQIA kids because let’s face it, if you aren’t straight in this world, your life is just going to suck.

For those of you who want to know what it’s like for us or if you’re scared to come out, keep reading. This probably won’t help you come out, but there is always that slight chance that it could. If you’re going to sit here and judge me, calling me a monstrosity or an abomination, put this book down and go away.

I was born into a Christian household. Everything was about God most of the time. My mom had a drinking problem then, so she wasn’t around much. I have an older brother and sister. They are my half brother and sister. They have the same dad, I don’t.

Now, I never really liked my brother. He likes to break down my self-esteem by calling me fat and ugly. I hate him more because he talks about my grandmother poorly.

“She’s just mad because you aren’t a lesbian like her.” He’d say.

The thing about my grandma, I’ve never seen her with a woman, only men. I didn’t know if he knew because of how she dressed or if she had experimented or something. She could be bisexual, to this day I do not know.

Anyways, let’s structure this a bit. I always knew I liked boys, until I walked in on my brother watching porn. I spent less time focusing on the men’s genitals and more on the woman’s breasts.

She was blond, brown eyes, big bust. That’s all I remember. I don’t remember the mans’ penis or the woman’s’ vagina. Just the girls top half really. I’m pretty sure I remember that much solely for the fact that that day was the day I realized that I like girls, too.

Soon after, I discovered masturbation on accident. I only knew I wasn’t supposed to do that when I was doing it in the living room and my sister told me to stop before teasing me relentlessly. I never did it again.

I didn’t know what sexuality was. No one ever took the time to tell me and it doesn’t exactly pop into conversations much.

In 5th grade, I learned a little bit about sexuality, and even then it wasn’t much and was pretty biased towards the straights. Everyone in my charter school was calling this one boy gay. I had to ask one of my friends what “gay” even was. He told me to ask a teacher.

I asked my language arts teacher because hey, she knows a lot of words, seems like the most sensible. I tapped her shoulder and she turned around with a smile on her face.

“What’s ‘gay?’” I asked.

“A type of sexuality.” Her smile faltered.

“What’s sexuality?” I tilted my head.

“Gay, straight, lesbian, and bisexual. They are who you prefer to be with. Like when a girl likes guys, she’s straight.” She told me.
“What is it like for gay, lesbian, and bisexual then?” I looked at her.

She leaned towards me and cupped her hand by her mouth before whispering in my ear, “Homosexuality is a sin. You do not need to know what those are.”
I walked away after that. I didn’t know what “homosexuality” was, but if it’s a sin, I’d rather have avoided it at all costs.

Eventually, I saw a girl I liked. This girl, let’s call her Shyann, was really pretty. I was really attracted to her, so I befriended her. Not knowing that liking her as more than a friend, feeling the same way towards her that I did towards boys, was “wrong.”

My boy crush, his name will be Rus, asked me to the school dance. We went together and we talked since I can’t really dance to save my life. While I talked to Shyann, I felt as nervous talking to her as I did to Rus.

Rus and I walked to the library and talked until his dad picked him up. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to leave the school because my mom was going to pick me up. Whoops. I walked home in the pouring rain. When I got there, my mom got me warmed up and scolded me. That was the last time I broke the rules for a boy.

During the summer, Rus broke up with me after dating for three months. My mom had a girl’s night with my sister and me. She was doing my nails when Ru Paul’s Drag Race came on as my sister was flipping through the channels.

She told me how wrong it was and how it was against the bible. She was drunk that night, though, so I didn’t pay much attention to her. When I saw that the women on the T.V. screen were men, I still thought they were beautiful.

Then, I moved and started going to middle school. I was too shy to even say my name. I had to ask the girl next to me, Leah, to say it for me. I only had the courage to talk to her because she was pretty.

She became one of my best friends along with Noel, Hope, Sarah, and Claire. I thought Leah and Noel were perfect for me. I still didn’t know the way I was feeling was frowned upon me, but don’t judge me, I’m not the brightest.

One day, Noel, being the weird guy he is, told me everything about sexuality randomly before class. I later found out he talks about random things a lot. The way he described everything and how it feels to like someone, I started questioning my sexuality.

That night, I go home and go on my kindle. I look up men and woman, making sure there were not pictures of intercourse to see if I had to delete my browser history. I found out that I like both of them. Men had great smiles and hair and seemed kind and… Who am I kidding? They were hot. At the same time, so were the women.

The next day, I told Sarah and Claire that I believed I was bisexual. They asked me about it for a bit before moving on. They didn’t judge me, or so I thought. At school, Hannah asked Hope, Leah and I if we were lesbians.

Leah and Hope yelled no and started telling her off for asking such a rude question. Hannah kept saying I was. I didn’t confirm or deny it because it was half way true. Turns out Hanna wasn’t told, she was stereotyping us. She thought because I was more boyish, I like girls. She and my mom told me that all tomboys were lesbian. I just like guys’ clothes, it looks awesome.

I became depressed and stressed. What if everyone hates me because I’m bisexual? Should I even tell? I had only come out to two people, and I thought I shouldn’t tell anyone else. For a while at least.

That summer, I went to visit my dad in California. We went to Disney Land, Sea World, and he tried to get me to watch sports with him. I hate sports, so I would usually ditch him to watch Glee. I envied Kurt and Blaine. Despite the risks, they came out. Kurt was afraid to his dad, but he kind of already knew. I wished I could just not care about judgment and come out. Granted, they did get beat up and picked on, but at least they didn’t have to hide who they were.

I went on my kindle and went on Facebook. One of my friends sent me a link to their favorite song for me to listen to. It was Same Love by Macklemore. I silently cried as I listened to it. When I took off my Skull Candy headphones, my sobs were no longer silent. I can’t change, but I wanted to so badly. That song was how I learned that homosexuals can’t get married.

My dad held me and calmed me down. I told him about how I was feeling emotionally. How people don’t like me already and telling them would just make it worse. How I didn’t want to do it.

“Do what, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Daddy,” I looked up at him. “I-I don’t just like guys…”

“What do you mean?” He pressed.

“I-I like girls.”

After that, he became awkward. He seemed to be thinking. I thought he had begun to hate me too. Or he was too shocked.

“Did you know about Lita?” I shook my head, so he continued. “She liked girls, too. Just remember, you’re at that age where you’re going to get urges. You should focus on your schoolwork, don’t act upon your feelings.”

That night as I sleep, my brain reprograms. Instead of my shy, sweet, innocent self, I became the person I am today. Loud, dirty-minded, and hateful. I became the exact opposite of what I was so that I could lock away my feelings.

This year, the 7th grade, I disregarded my father’s words and got a boyfriend early on in the year. He was bisexual, too. He said he had a great coming out experience. It was a bumpy road, but he made it smooth, at least at home.

He introduced me to a band called Blood On The Dance Floor. Dahvie Vanity and Jayy Von Monroe became my inspiration. Their music taught me that you can’t worry about what other people think about you. Be who you are, not what everyone else wants you to be.

I made a new Facebook account and added everybody I knew from school. My current and old ones. I told them that I was bisexual. Most acted cool online, but at school, they treated me like an even bigger outcast than I was initially. The girls in the locker room wanted me to look at the ceiling while they got dressed because they didn’t want me to look at them.

I told them off, but I got dressed in the showers so they wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Everybody treated me differently, even Claire. Even so, some treated me better than they did before. Like Hilary, she treated me like a sister. As did Trista. They were both straight, they just didn’t care about my sexuality.

At the bus stop, I met Paige. She was weird, even to me, but I still became her friend. She told me on Twitter that she was bisexual. I told her I was too. We are now blood sisters. For those of you who aren’t insane, that’s when you cut your hands and put the blood together in two lockets. Now, we act like a couple but we like completely different people. At least she does.

I don’t really care what people think anymore. I can be who I want to be. I know that as long as I have my family and supportive friends, everything will be alright. I may not be accepted by everyone, but not everyone is going to be in my life forever.

So, that’s pretty much my story. I haven’t come out to most of my family, but I’m going to do it. Fear is only in our minds, we need not let it take over. People are maturing, not caring about who you like anymore. More and more people are becoming supportive.

If you are one of the people who were just sitting here, judging me, remember, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words leave psychological wounds that never heal.


“If you are consumed by negativity, your life will become a shallow pit of despair. But if you can flip the script and see the light, then everything will be alright. Complaining will only make your life worse. Give thanks for what you do have and keep on shining my diamonds.”
-Dahvie Vanity