Even though accepting my reality would have been committing a crime against humanity according to society, I had to accept it even though that acceptance was fake. During my high school years I pretended that I was straight. I even had a girlfriend, and can you imagine the guilt of not staying true to yourself.
“Babe, can you come over this weekend?” Milla asked.
“Yeah, sure, but I will have to check with my mom,” I said.
“What is it with your mom, doesn’t she know you have a girlfriend or are you just making excuses?” she asked, tears starting to form in her eyes.
I hadn’t spent any real time with her. I always came up with excuses and I could see she was hurt. I asked her out because I liked her as a friend. I could see we could be great friends and it was a way to avoid being questioned about if I was gay or not. As a teenager, peer pressure gets to you because you want to seem cool and fit in but in the first place you were made to stand out, be unique.
“I’m sorry, I will make time for you, but please not this weekend.”
She just shook her head and took off running with tears in her eyes. I felt awful. At the end of the day I realised that I was using her because of my own cowardice and selfish reasons.
When I got home that day, my mom could see I was not OK so she asked, “Leo, what is it?”
“Mom, do you believe that someone could be born not what they are? I mean, be born something else but not be that thing and be something else that they are not?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How do you feel about gays?” I have always been a straight talker.
“Woah, where is this coming from, son? Don’t let your father hear you asking such silly questions now,” Mom said.
I knew this conversation was fruitless. I just retired to my room and did my homework. If I was scared to talk openly with my family about my life, then how could I face the world and be proud of who I was? Life is really not fair.
***
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