LGBTQIAP+ Milestones: Book 4

Accept Me Or Not, I Accept Myself

By tarots-

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Being in the closet felt suffocating. It feels like a thousand rose thorns constricting my lungs, squeezing them tighter every time I thought of coming out. I felt as if I couldn't breather, as if I had to be careful not to breathe because the second I do, the second I relax I would come out and everyone would know who I was before I was even ready.

Even now, I'm out to my family and my friends and some of my teachers but it still feels as if I was shoved back into the closet by those same people. They ignore the fact that I'm not comfortable in my body, that I want to change my name and go by gender neutral pronouns because hearing her and she makes me sick to my stomach.

I'm nearly eighteen and I still can't be called by anything other than my birth name. The name that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth every time I have to introduce myself and I try to avoid it at all costs.

Three paragraphs in and I feel as if I'm making this way sadder it really is. That my experience being non-binary left me in a sea of sorrow that I can't swim out of. So let me tell you the story of how I came to accept myself despite others not accepting me.

I was sixteen and the world pitted against me from the second I was born, not only was a girl but I was also black and latina. My parents knew I was going to struggle as I grew up, having to work twice as hard to make up for the fact that I wasn't white. Little did they know that their little girl would grow up to be non-binary and bisexual*.

I learned to accept myself because I felt like nobody else in the world would accept me. I learned to accept the fact that I would never truly be comfortable in my own body, but I wouldn't want top surgery because I'm scared something would go wrong. I learned to accept the fact that my parents may never truly accept me as Nico, but always as my birth name because my sexuality is easier to explain than my gender identity.

I learned to accept the fact that I fall in love with people, regardless of identity and the way they make me smile. I also learned to accept that some of the people I fall in love with may not necessarily be right for me.

It took me falling love with a girl who reminded me of foxglove and oleander both beautiful and deadly. She was the first girl I truly loved and I fell in love with the way her eyes shone when she talked about her favorite music. I fell for the way she said my name and the way she hugged me. Yet, it took me realizing that she was the reason I became depressed and anxious (and it wasn't because I loved her, but because she would put me down and make me feel as if I wasn't enough) that she wasn't meant for me.

It took me loving a boy who's touch felt like an anchor dragging me to the bottom of the ocean, leaving me there where I couldn't breathe. He would hold me tight and close, whispering how he loved me while he would never listen to me. I fell for his humor and his intelligence without realizing that he never truly loved me.

They made me realize that I deserved someone who would make me feel as if I was the world and that took me a while to accept. Maybe one day I will fall in love with a girl who could have swallowed the stars, moon and entire galaxies because her eyes shine with stardust. Maybe one day I would fall in love with a boy who's smile reminds me of peaches and honey because he's sweeter than I would ever imagine. Maybe one day I'll fall in love with someone who says my name like a prayer. Maybe one day.

For now, I'm just thanking the universe for every curve ball it threw at me because without it I wouldn't have learned about who I was when I did. I have come to accept myself in a world that will not always accept me. I have grown from it and am thankful for it.

*I use the term bisexual because I have a negative relationship with the term pansexual.