I remember having a girl crush at the age of 6. I know it is pretty young, but I was vocal about my feelings. I told my sister or my mom how I would want to play outside just to see her. And that is the point. I never felt like there was something wrong with having a girl crush. They teased me but in a way that they did not fixate on my sexual orientation. I felt normal and belonged.
I grew up becoming a wallflower and observing how others get to suffer for being gay or even just for not acting ‘normal’ for their gender standard shits. Those situations made me feel that what I am is not okay to society, so I was forced to hide that part of me to fit in. To be normal. To dodge those hurtful words.
In high school, I made friends. Friends where I can let out bits of suppressed parts of me. I was able to breathe a little. We were sharing about our boy and girl crushes. Our own weird little world where we do not give a fuck to anyone because we are badass friends who got each other’s back. But high school is still high school. There are always mean girls or guys that will drag you down. And so, those little windows to breathe were becoming smaller.
I closeted for the most part of my life. Then I met her. The first. My first. It starts as a simple crush. I mean, she is beautiful, kind, and sweet. I did not entertain the thought of her because I am too busy pretending something I am not. And building that straight reputation for years is hard, so I set her aside. We became friends, then close friends, then best friends. I was so out of her league, but we kissed, and “it” started.
I found the person with who I could let myself out. I opened the gate, and I exposed myself to her. All of me. The thoughts, the actions, the feelings, and everything that I am not supposed to do. It was like having my own room where I could dance around naked without getting judged. It was like finally having my own oxygen. I admit it was the happiest years of my life.
But our relationships did not last. After four years with her, I was scared to return to be fully locked up in a straight world again. But I met these amazing people in college. They made me feel like being the real me is normal and that there is nothing wrong with it. I gained confidence and was able to admit that I am bisexual. Living in the city where I study is the safe zone where I get to be ME. I missed having a safe zone and thinking that my safe zone became the world except for the specific zones where my family/relative lives.
It hurts me that I get to be ME with my friends and people I do not know but not with my family. It hurts that they do not get to know the real me. But the pain is not too much. I feel like beneath my hiding. They have a tiny idea about it. But I do not want to have ‘da moment’ of coming out. I want it to be like when I was a kid. I let it out, and they reacted like nothing was wrong, like it is a typical, regular bit.
Tonight, at dinner, there was a relative present and made a comment about my hair. They simply assumed I was a lesbian, and that was how many girlfriends I had. I was rude for being silent and looking down at my feet the whole time, but to be honest, I do not feel comfortable entertaining them. Probably because they are insensitive and homophobic. I am disgusted.
I am hurt. But not really that hurt. I just really miss Naga. I miss my safe zone. I miss letting me out. I miss going back in the open.
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