My passion is to spread what it means to love.
Birth of a Phoenix
Dear Mom, I never got a chance to tell you something before you passed away. Even writing this now, it is hard to say. I wrote much more of this letter before I came back up to this part to add my confession. Mom, I am a lesbian. I suppose I could have told you when you were in a vegetative state all those years but I found that hard to do without being able to see your reaction. Before you were in a vegetative state, I did not yet know this confession about myself. I was eighteen years old when it finally clicked. It happened while I was reading a reading assignment in a college class during a summer program away from home. The reading described characteristics of a homosexual within it. My very first emotion was my brain flooding with extreme fear. I did not want to be this way. I was worried that I would get beat up or murdered. I wanted to quit the program and go home to hide from the world. I didn't realize I was exactly where I needed to be. The summer program was known for diversity and acceptance. There were others like me there. I gave it all the strength I could muster and stayed. I think talking to the director about this struggle helped. All students that were going to be entering college in the fall were given a scholarship at the completion of the summer program. I was given one with a title about a phoenix because of my struggle with all this and the phoenix has been an inspiration for me ever since. When I was twenty six years old I got my first tattoo and it was the words Phoenix Rising. I always hoped you would accept me but given the rocky start with the rest of the family, I feel scared to think about what your reaction might have been. Then other times I am betting you knew. They say mothers know these things.