Everyone knows I'm a lesbian. It's kind of open since I blasted my way out of the closet just recently. Interestingly enough, this happened to be on “Coming Out” day, through FaceBook. Not one of my better decisions. Surprisingly however, I got only good feedback (even if some of it was fake). However, that's not what's so great about me coming out so soon.
Now that I'm open about my sexuality, I'm hearing stories - stories of how people “knew I was gay.” Whether it be because I stared too long at a pretty girl (all girls are beautiful so what do they know? Am I right?), or the fact that I never had a boy crush unless my friends told me to, they’d “known.” This got me thinking, “Well . . . Have I always been a lesbian? People aren't really born with it, are they?”
So I decided to start going back through old memories and journals. What I found was too gay for me to even process, and I feel like it should be shared so you can all be as flabbergasted as I was. I'm sweet like that.
So, I think back first to all of my friends - because that's where crushes start right? - all of the girls I was intimidated by, and for what reason? I never knew truly why I was intimidated by them until now. It was because they were so pretty. I'd always been told I was jealous of them, but I never had envious feelings toward them, just admiration and a little fear. Gay tip-off f#1: check.
The second gay tipp-off I discovered had to do with celebrity crushes. While other girls were fanning themselves over Zac Efron (is he even relevant anymore? I'm not sure, but he sure was when I was younger), I was reading a book and admiring the female characters. Annabeth Chase from the Percy Jackson series was a good ‘ole pick, if I do say so myself. I've never been able to look at a guy and go, “Wow, he's hot.” It was a lie for me to say that, and I knew it, I just didn't know why. Now let me look at Taylor Swift, and I'm calling her “gorgeous” and rambling on about why she is.
My third gay tip-off? My old diary. Oh my goodness. That's a true cringe right there, and while it pains me to share this, for you I will. I was going through my old sketchbooks and journals when I came across one with big, bold lettering. “DO NOT OPEN, CONFIDEAL.” (Obviously, I could not spell for anything when I was younger.) Deep inside those humiliating white pages scribbled with unreadable wording was one about my favorite character, Kim Possible. Now, don't blame me when I tell you this, everyone had a crush on her, unless they were a female. But hey, I guess I'm the exception, right? In between (and through) the thin blue lines were paragraphs about how beautiful Kim Possible was.
From her cool hair to her rockin’ boots, she was amazing in my eyes. I didn’t remember writing about her, even while looking at it. I guess the “gay” overpowered my mental health. Probably did, especially since I can't function when a cute girl is around now.
Last, but certainly not least. Procrastination plays a major role in my story. I've always been horrible for it. I enjoy working, but I procrastinate doing so until about 5 minutes past its due date. The same thing happened when I was younger, and I remember every little detail. I have gay aunts who are married, and we would always stop by their house for Christmas. Once I was older and could understand the concept of being gay and not just living with your best friend, my mom told me that they loved each other. “Two girls can like eachother?!” My young mind couldn't fathom this fact at first, but eventually I didn't care. The Christmas cookies were more important. A few days later though, I'd thought about them being in a gay relationship and how it happened. I remember wondering if there was a button you pushed to be gay, and where it was. Then, the most important question of my life popped into my mind, “Can I like a girl?” I thought about it for a whopping two seconds before inwardly shrugging my shoulders and muttering, “That's a problem for another day.” I forgot about it until eighth grade when I met my bisexual friend.
That's the story of how I was a gay child who procrastinated realizing she liked girls.