I never knew what or who I was. I couldn’t even decide which bathroom to use, much less how to approach one. They would stop me before I could. I’d say I was mistaken and power walk away-except it was a walk of shame. I know some of you felt like this. You’d spend hours trying to figure out what genderfluid meant and what’s nonbinary? or google Is it normal to love your same-sex best friend more than a friend?‘. Truth is, you probably are in love with them, or value your friendship greatly.

I always felt lost, never a girl or boy or never both. I’d wince each time they called me she and sometimes I didn’t. I would smile and get fuzzy all over when they said ‘he’ and feel bold when they said ‘they’.  It wasn’t a power play, just wanting to feel valid and human.

I’d feel like E.T or Echo each time they would use the wrong pronouns. I didn’t feel like she, he, they, or any pronouns. I’d hear them call me ‘she’ and I would feel my stomach contort. It felt like it was burying itself. 

We all desperately used the internet to search up who we are. We tried social media and asking on anonymous forums. We read fan made books on lgbtqia+ definitions and terms. We changed each year to try to fit our description. We prided ourselves on social media and wore our pride flags on our avatars, but once we went offline, we would put on an oversized sweater and sweat each time we were misgendered. 

I thought I was straight in elementary, until I saw this girl in the playground. I don’t remember much, but I remember I liked her a lot. I thought I just wanted to be her friend. Even after we talked and became acquainted, it hurt a lot to know I was just her friend. I realized I liked her more than a friend a year later.

Sexuality isn’t a choice. It won’t ever be a choice. I couldn’t come out to my parents because my anxiety got the best of me. My hands would be clammy and my voice would shake. I’d look down each time I tried. I tried to come out, but they ended up looking at me with bewilderment and asked me again to confirm. I ended up swallowing back and told them it was a joke.

I regret not telling them what I truly felt. I regret staying in the closet. The inescapable void of knowing that someday you will have to tell them the truth won’t ever leave. The feeling of losing individuality while sitting at a dinner table has such an impact that you want to tear open the closet door and wear your pride flag as a cape. 

I’m Stephanie. I’m queer. And I would ‘sail hell’s fiery flames’ to love her and to love myself unapologetically. 

And I think you should feel free to do the same.