By

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I've always wanted to do one of these. My story was and still is a bigger part of me than my sexuality by itself. I thought maybe I could pick out a big episode and tell you all about. Truth is though, sexuality isn't just milestones, it's a never-ending road, sometimes with loveable, sunny ups, and others with dreary, down pouring downs.

So of all the landmarks in the journey that my life is, I decided to tell you about my coming to terms with who I was (well, am).

I think it was back in seventh grade that I first noticed that one of the boys in my class had a six-pack. It wasn't a big deal, but from the moment I realized that I often started catching myself staring into his blue eyes. Superficial as that was, it was a starting point.

Jealousy, I told myself, had to be the reason why I thought so much about him.

Despite it being the first milestone, it barely did anything. I wouldn't allow myself to even think about it. Not in the "I'M STRAIGHT" self-punishing kind of way, but more of in the simply starting to think about something else way, because I knew that if I didn't I might create a rift I'd never be able to fix.

Two years later, I'd often tell myself that I was bi, which I consider to be very insulting to the people who actually are that way (sorry for using your sexuality as a stepping stone), and looked up boys online for purposes other than scientific.

(I actual thought about cutting this part out of this story, but, in my opinion, it's the least pretty parts of our life that makeup the fabric of our personality). Still in my head, I was straight, maybe bi, though I had as much interest in the female body as I had for geology (In case you're wondering, I'd rather get hit by a rock than study it).

Finally, the milestone we're here for came, as my sixteenth summer in this planet finally arrived.

One of my cousins, who is around my age, as well as my uncle had travelled to Bogota, the longest journey I've ever made, by the way, to stay there for a weekend.

And I don't know if it was the distance from home, the jet lag or having chewed coke leaves (true story), but something reflexive in me took a turn.

I'd always been very introspective, but it was always either in shades of wondering what my superpowers would be if I were a hero, or whether we should treat future AI with the same respect we do humans, and hardly ever, god forbid, in the dangerous hues of "Am I gay?".

For a whole weekend, of, for once in my lifetime, doing nothing I was often told by my uncle (who is the actual coolest by the way) that this or that girl was cute, often breaking my gaze from the hot guy behind her.

By the end of the journey, we had to stop in Panama before stopping finally flying to my country.

In Panama, at the airport, a very, VERY, tired me, sat at one of the chairs waiting for his/my plane. Suddenly my wondering eyes, caught sight of the reddest hair ever. A ginger boy whose face carried what i could honestly only describe as lust, yet there was something about his smile that made him different from all the guys with the same intentions as him that I'd ever seen.

When he joined his group, where a very handsome couple held hands, I realized what in him was different. He was gay! Like me (spoiler alert).

I looked, maybe stared, helplessly at him, hoping the intensity of my gaze would snap his attention from his green eyed friend to me. No such luck.

On the airplane, as I flew home, I was asked by the green eyed boy to switch places with him, which was actually good for me because that way I could sit closer to my cousin, so he could sit near his boyfriend.

I did as asked.

The whole way back home I stared at the couple, hoping, maybe that they adopt me, I guess. I'd often get up walk by them and make my way to the bathroom, so I could see Ginger, who was in a different section of the plane, hoping maybe he'd see me, drop everything in his life and run away with me (which, in retrospective, wasn't the best idea considering we were on a plane).

By the end of the flight, I was devastated. No one had given up everything they had for me! So Wattpad teenfics weren't accurate? Who would have guessed? (Not that I read them, I was always a bit pretentious).

Finally, as I got home, ready to sleep all of the hours I hadn't throughout the twelve hours flight, I realized something.

Much like most things in the world, you can't just hope it happens and have it magically dropped on your lap.

I didn't want a girlfriend. I didn't want a life of mild happiness with a good friend, while also making her unhappy that I was never really satisfied with what we had.

I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted someone who could hold me in their arms and make me feel like the world was maybe a lot less scary and yet a lot more exciting. I wanted a man.

But I wasn't going to have that if I kept up the charade that my life had become. And I definitely wasn't going to have that if I kept telling myself I was something else.

I am gay, and from that day on I knew that, and even in times of doubt and fear, I know that if I just calm myself, I know where my heart is point at, and it definitely isn't a girl.

This is my story, I hope it helped. If you have any questions just tag or pm me (I'll probably be lurking in the comment section anyway).

I leave you with this thought:

Whatever you are, gay, straight, cis, transgender, healthy or sick, or even an actual alien:

BE proud of who you are, and let no one take that away from you, much less yourself. Even if maybe you're the only one who should know it, then be the proud owner of a secret.