Not a day goes by that I don’t think about being gay. Some people talk about how low their confidence had gotten when they figured out they weren’t so straight. Others talk about their trouble coming out. All I think about is how glad I am to not be straight. Guys are not physically appealing to me. Chest hair, muscles, bad smells. Eww. When I realized I was attracted to girls three years ago, I was relieved. When I came out to my mom, she wanted to know about it. She was interested, and surprisingly she supported me. I’ve had an overall pleasant time being gay. I chopped off all my hair, got into gay culture, and still nobody bothered me. I went to a school with the highest fight rates in my district. Never did anyone try to start things with me. Sure, there were two or three guys that called me a d*** because of my short hair. But that’s all. I escaped unharmed. Whenever I hear about kids having the worst time coming to terms with who they are, it breaks my heart. I had the easiest time changing into a big, raging lesbian.
I love being gay. It allows me to be odd and outside of the box. I’m given a free pass to rainbows and unicorns. I’m permitted to check out a girl. Though it’s hard to find other lesbians, when I find one, it’s like finding a nugget of gold. Unexpected and treasured. They’ll either become my friend or awkward crush. I have a love for girls that I will always appreciate and keep close. They’re softer, sweeter, prettier, and they smell really good.
Being gay rocks. It’s changed my life so positively because I’ve finally found a niche where I’m so at home and feel comfortable. I wish all LGBT youth could see from my point of view, but I know there’s so much intolerance I’m not seeing out in the world that it’s impossible. It will get better, I know it will.