I was raised straight. I was raised to believe that any orientation other than straight was a sin. I’m not straight, though. Does this mean God (if God is even real) loves me less? Does it mean I’m doomed to be rejected by my family? What does this mean? I hope it doesn’t mean I’m going to be alone forever. I mean, I can’t find a nice girl to settle down with, because then my family will hate me. I could find a nice boy, but what if I don’t love him? I never thought it would take the courage that I don’t have to tell them. I can’t and I probably never will. Does this mean I’m not being true to myself? If I still spoke to my father, he would probably stop talking to me (which wouldn’t have killed me). Mom, though, her heart will be broken. She’ll probably cry and ask if it’s her fault. I don’t want to keep this locked inside forever. But I don’t want to tell them. I’m supposed to be the model child of the family. I’m treated like I’m perfect, but still treated like I’m the most flawed person. I’m supposed to be the example, supposed to make sure all the kids are lined up like ducklings behind me; all heading toward promising careers and then to marriages that are only torn apart by death. Of course, those marriages will be the most hetero of couplings. I don’t get it. I thought that by now, people would accept the fact that their children might not be attracted to the opposite sex. And what if one of the boys decides that they want to be a woman? What happens if my sister decides that she wants to be with more than one person at a time? What then? Will our parents kick them out? What if the little one comes out as gay? He’s a sweet boy, and really sensitive. I know that if my parents started hating him, I would let him come stay with me. Because it doesn’t matter to me who you love. Love is love. For a while I thought maybe I was hetero, but I’m not. I first realized that I liked girls when I was nine or ten, when I would watch those old Justice League cartoons. I was literally in love with Wonder Woman (can you blame me?). But I knew I still liked boys too. But since I wasn’t allowed to be that way, I thought that I just needed to get over it. I just thought I was because that’s the way I was raised. I am bisexual, and I’m not ashamed of it, because that’s the way I was born.
Why do people think that rape is something that you can just forget, like it never happened? It’s a violation. It’s a reminder that your body is not your own. Your body belongs to society. You have no choices; no say in who touches you, who penetrates your very soul. You are not a person, you are a piece of meat to be consumed, a toy to be played with.