In the beginning of sixth grade I realized I wasn't straight.
I didn't quite know where I belonged, I just knew I wasn't straight.
I saw people saying I was broken and that I could be fixed, people saying I was disgusting, saying I deserved to die.
I kept it to myself out of fear.
In the beginning of seventh grade, I got my first girlfriend.
I thought I was a lesbian.
I came out to close friends, and slowly it spread through my school.
Everyone went ballistic as if it was illegal for people to know they were gay at a young age.
We broke up, and a few months later I got my first boyfriend.
I knew I was bisexual.
Once again, people went ballistic.
As if someone trying to figure out who they were was the most interesting thing ever.
In eighth grade, someone said I was weird for being bisexual. That I had to pick a gender to like.
As if some random kid in my gym class would suddenly make me a lesbian or straight.
People telling me to stop rubbing my gayness in their faces.
As if tv, movies, and books don't force straight romance in anywhere they can.
As if me being gay is something shameful that I shouldn't show off.
People used to say "I wish I was gay!"
As if being hated by some of the population was fun.
As if being fetishized was fun.
As if the LGBTQ community was trendy.
We aren't a trend.
We are beautiful and incredible and brave and strong.
And there is nothing wrong with any of us.