By

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Most parts of society where I live accept the LGBTQ+ community, but my parents, uncles and aunties still don't.

Even from the very beginning when I didn't exactly know what the heck the LGBTQ+ community was it would always hurt when people made fun of it, and I would always defend it. Because at least I knew, that people who were different didn't deserve to be made fun of. When I discovered that I was part of the community wow, it felt like my family was stabbing me in the heart.

Let's start shall we?

What pains me a lot is that, I don't know or more like I don't remember the specific dates of when these important things happened. I wish I knew but I don't and I don't because everything was pretty much gradual, nothing was like "Oh yeah, today I know I'm this and I'm that." and that's okay.

It was around January 2016 that I started to develope feelings? (Yeah, okay it's called feelings) for none other than one of my close friends that I've known for around 3 years (I'll call her Kira in here)

Now, how this started was quite strange for me actually. Since it was January, people were starting to rally up volunteers and performers for year end events like farewell parties and award ceremonies. I was part of a dance team and Kira joined too, that's when things got kinda tricky for me.

I'm not a person who likes skinship. What's skinship you ask? Well, now it's more commonly known as intimate but non-sexual touching between two people. The word used to be applied more to mothers and their children but nowadays it's more directed between friends who are close together.

Alrighty, I'm not a big fan of skinship and Kira isn't either, we just don't like being touched by other people in general. But while we were in that dance group, at practices I would always find "reasons" to help her correct a move and she always seemed to do the same. What also irked me is that although she had a lot more friends than I did in our dance group, during breaks whenever we were apart we would always find each other and still right up close legs and arms touching until it was time to practice again.

I really started to question myself, a lot. And I started to bottle all of it up. And it hurt, it really did. At that point I started to write on Wattpad more because that was my filter, that was where I could write my feelings out and people could be supportive of it. There's one thing I'd like to point out, I have never and I don't really plan to give my characters sad or tragic endings. Why? Because my characters will always be in my control and I don't want them to hurt like I did even if none of them are real.

Let's get back on topic.

Mmm... I've always loved poetry and after doing a lot more work on Wattpad my love for it grew even more. So, I started to send some of my poetry to my best friend (I'll call her Em). She was the first and only person so far I've come out to because of two things: a juice box and an essay.

Okay, the juice box because that's how we became friends a long time ago and the essay because that's how I found out she was the person I could trust. (Again, sorry that I don't really remember dates) A few months into finding myself, Em asked me to print her essay for her since she couldn't do it herself. Without hesitating I said yes. I remember reading her essay and crying. Because I had found someone who understood me without even needing to understand. Her essay was about the LGBTQ+ community, about society, about parents and about the people in the LGBTQ+ community.

Around a couple weeks, a month, maybe two months later I asked if I could talk to her after school. She said yes. I was really set on coming out to her that day, it was just... a personal goal I wanted to reach. So, after school we took a walk and she wanted to know what was going on because I was being silent the whole time.

Then something funny happened. She asked if I liked a guy that we were friends with. I remember laughing so damn hard because, well the thing I wanted to talk to her was quite the opposite of what she thought it was.

I asked if she remembered the topic of her essay she wrote awhile back, of course she did. Then I said "Yeah... I'm part of that.".

"Well, you don't seem any different from when you were before."

I screamed. I run around her in a circle. I hugged her.

It felt so good. To have that weight lifted off my shoulders. To have someone understand me. To have someone comfort me.

I think it was in June (because that's when all the school secrets come out during the end of the year) that Em got real curious about who I liked. Yeah, well I told her that I liked Kira.

Throughout what I've just told you, there was one consistent feeling that I felt.

I felt sad. And boy, did I hide it well.

Being sad when something bad happens in normal. Being sad when everything is perfectly fine is not.

I didn't know what was wrong with me. I didn't know how to cope, so I hid it all. From my parents, my family, my friends, even Em whom I trust so much.

I hid it behind that happy-go-lucky girl that will fight for what is right. And everyday it felt like I was dying.

I'm thankful though, because Em eventually caught on. And I guess it wasn't that hard. I'd be looking fine and happy at school but late at night/very early morning I would send her my poems and I'm grateful because she would always respond immediately.

When July came, I came clean to her. I didn't see the same person everyone else saw.

I just wanna everyone know that it's okay, that nothing is right away, that things will take time.

Find that person, it doesn't have to be many, one is enough. Find that one person who you can trust, that you can vent out to. It took me time and it's okay. I'm okay.

I won't tell you my name, I hope that's okay. I thought I was bisexual at first but for now I identify as a biromantic demisexual. And that's fine. If you want to change your label or can't find your label it's fine. Because in the end you want your label to empower you, not drag you down.

Chu~ ♥