Standing by the Closet Door

        I was eight-years-old when I started to suspect I was "different". I would see all sorts of girls at school and they always took my breath away. They were all so pretty, so very pretty. But I was never jealous of them. There was no reason to be jealous. I hadn't yet learned to hate my body, so I hadn't yet started comparing myself to them. If anything, I was jealous of the boys. I was having "sinful" thoughts of the girls - "unnatural" thoughts. I knew that none of them had those ideas or feelings too. They had made that very, painfully clear with their comments about the "evil" gays and their chasing of the boys in our class. So, I decided to keep it to myself.

        A year later, I met the prettiest girl I had ever seen. She doesn't know I'm writing this, so I'm not going to get descriptive, but for a long time, every time I looked at her, my heart beat a little faster and I got a little nervous. After that, I couldn't question anymore what was going on with me. I knew. Without anyone having to tell me and without me having to look it up, I knew. And I was terrified.

        I was raised by Christian conservatives. I don't believe that religion or political alignment dictates your thoughts and the way you treat people, but I have learned that an extreme political standing combined with any religious belief is very dangerous. I have yet to meet a person on the far left or the far right who doesn't base the way they treat people off of political alignments and religious beliefs. It just so happened that the extremists in my family were conservative and Christian - which meant that my fear was of God and the Diabolical Democrats.

        The only reason I felt it was necessary to go to anyone with what I was internally going through was because of that fear of God. I didn't know what was in the bible about what I was feeling. I didn't know if it was normal or okay. I was afraid there was something wrong with me, and that God wouldn't want me because of that. So I went to one of my family members who had read the bible cover to cover, hopeful that they would be able to tell me something that would ease my worries.

        I said it the only way I felt I could - "I think I might be a lesbian". That was when I found out that one of the few people I looked up to was intolerant. The moment those words left my mouth, before I could say anything else, they started yelling at me. I was told that they wouldn't be able to love me anymore and that I would be disowned. Nine-years-old, and threatened with being kicked out of the house right then and there. Clearly, love isn't unconditional.

        I never talked about it again, but all of my feelings and that memory stayed with me. Every time I saw a girl and thought she was pretty, it was followed by a harsh thought about myself and the urge to commit suicide. I'm certain that's what lead to me comparing my appearance to others - the habit of seeing someone pretty and scolding myself for it. After a while of the "unnatural" feelings existing and the internal scolding continuing, I started to hate myself. And after a while of constantly hating who and what I was, I started to hurt myself. Self-hate and self-harm became a normal part of my everyday life; just because I was told there was something "wrong" with me and there was no way I could control it.

        Relationships never interested me a lot, and I had zero interest in ever seeking out a relationship with a boy. But by the time I was twelve-years-old, everyone I knew had already started dating and I was getting a lot of pressure to seek out a partnership too. The pressure quickly turned to bullying and people started making fun of me for not being interested in romance. A lot of people said it made me weird. And once the accusations that I was a lesbian started, the bullying escalated to harassment and assault - sometimes sexual. I lied and denied it, but no one believed me because I didn't have a boyfriend. So, I decided to force myself to start dating despite being uncomfortable with every part of the idea. Still haunted by the fear of having to be homeless so young, I didn't dare consider asking out a girl. However, there was a boy I knew, who was single, who I decided to take a chance on instead. I didn't 'like' him by any means, but we were friends and I didn't hate him. He agreed, and we dated for most of a school year until he ditched me for my best friend. My other friends were mad at him on my behalf, but I didn't care at all. I was twelve and didn't want to date anyway. Him breaking it off with me opened me up to at least three months of 'mourning time' without judgement from others. I enjoyed every moment of it.

        In June of 2014, the U.S. government finally decided to make gay marriage legal. I was so damaged from the homophobia that I wasn't able to grasp how good that was for us at first. Once it occurred to me, all I could feel was happiness and pride until the homophobia seeped back in. I was listening to homo-haters talk about how God-awful that was and how the government shouldn't be trying to involve itself in peoples' sex lives. I remember people saying that it was just the gays encouraging pedophiles to fight for "equality" too. The people who told me that God hated me were now comparing consent to rape and saying it was the gays' fault. It didn't make sense to me. And that changed the way I viewed things.

        I started to heal that year when I developed a crush on yet another girl. Her name was Taylor, and she changed my life. She was bi-sexual, and she didn't bother with hiding that from most people. I know that there were a few family members she was keeping it from, but she never kept it from her friends. And if someone tried to go at her for it, she ignored them and moved on. They didn't get any room or any say in her life. After knowing her for a while and seeing her strength, I finally opened the closet door. I didn't yet step out, but I opened that door and I quietly announced to my friends that I was bi-sexual too.

        Bi, not lesbian, because I thought I was in love with a guy. I know now I wasn't. He had just groomed me enough that I was confused and believed him when he said I was.

        A year later, in 2015, I met this other girl who decided that she had a crush on me. Once she found that I was a little queer too, she asked me to be her girlfriend. That was the first relationship I had ever felt safe or comfortable in. It wasn't very serious, just a puppy love type of relationship, but it was a good three months anyway. And it gave me the courage to come out to some of my family. I decided I wasn't going to hide my girlfriend, even if my own blood did kick me out for it.

        The day I came out of the closet, I went to the same family member I went to when I was eight and very calmly said, "I started dating someone new today. Her name is...". At first, they seemed surprised, but then they shrugged. They explained that they're on the LGBT spectrum too. They said that they were dealing with their own, overbearing homo-haters the first time I talked to them about sexuality, then they apologised for what they said to me. It didn't take away that trauma, but it helped me get through some of the damage. They were very supportive of my relationship, even offering to drive my girlfriend and I on dates. And they also got annoyed when other people tried to say it was "just a phase" I was going through because "being gay is cool".

        That was the only gay relationship I have ever had, which is funny to me because I was always more into women. But after we broke up, I met the love of my life; who just so happens to be a man.

        I'm twenty-one now. I started questioning my sexuality at eight, and I didn't find peace with it until eighteen - when I realised that being in a straight relationship didn't make me straight. For ten years, I questioned myself. I felt bad about myself. I hated myself. I forced myself to date when I didn't want to, and I forced myself to date the gender I had no interest in. Then I forced myself to be sexual when I didn't want to be. I put myself in uncomfortable and dangerous situations almost every day for five years because it was expected of me to be straight, dating, and doing what people in relationships do.

        I've been gay, straight-passing, bi, asexual, non-binary, wildly and painfully confused, and finally I have found myself. I am Thorn, I am female, and I am demipansexual. I love based on who the person is, and I am asexual until I feel that I have a genuine, emotional connection with that person. That is me, and I think that's beautiful.

        Whether you're in the closet with a closed door, or in the closet with it open, or out and far away from the closet, or standing next to the closet door in case you have to run back in, I want to wish you a good and safe pride month. I hope that you are happy and that your life is peaceful. May we always have the freedom to be ourselves.