Getting the Girl and Being Yourself

Looking back, I really should have known. Throughout my 16 (17 in less than a month!) years of life, it’s borderline comical that someone would think I’m… normal. I mean, old photos of little tomboy me, crushes on Disney’s leading ladies, boy-short haircut, you name it basically scream it out to the world. I’ve always known, but I had never said it. Or at least out loud. Now, however, I have no shame. I’m gay. Plain and simple.

Now that that little detail is out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff.

I didn’t really come to terms with myself until I reached high school. Before then, I did have one short fling with a female that ended in conflict of interest when she went to a high school in Vallejo instead of ACHS like the rest of us. This short lived “relationship”, however, was probably the best kept secret of my life. No one knew about us or me, which was exactly what I wanted.

I think the biggest reason for this was I was already a tomboy. Adding “gay” to the list would make me a statistic. A stereotype. My hair has been shaved off, blue, purple, red, and more. I was already…weird. Different. I was not interested in being any more ostracized by my peers than I already was. I’ve always struggled with my self-image. Not knowing who I am or what I wanted was very confusing and I hated myself for hating myself for it. Does that make sense? Probably not. It doesn’t make sense to me either.

Here comes high school. I can’t take it anymore, I’m ready to be myself… publicly. I had a small, tight-knit group of friends who I shared everything with. Even they didn’t know. This secret was eating me alive, and I could feel it weighing me down.

Then I met her.

There was this girl in my theatre class. This beautiful, funny, talented, intelligent, well-spoken, kind, genuine, amazing girl in my theatre class named Hairo. Everyone knew her, she was quite popular. And I’m, well, me. That tight-knit group of friends I mentioned? Yeah, that’s about it. Back on subject. I quickly developed the biggest crush in the history of the cosmos on this girl. I did everything I could do to suppress it, because she was a senior and I was a sophomore. In other words, not going to happen.

I couldn’t resist, however, at least trying to become friends with her. I was basically trying to friend-zone myself. Anything I could do to get closer to her was all I needed. Much to my surprise, it worked?!? You hear that right. We became….. friends. She was even cooler than I could ever imagine. She was the first person I’d ever met that was as into spirituality as I was. We liked the same books, foods, movies, colors, humor. I am the most awkward person you would probably ever meet, but somehow the conversation flowed freely. She occupied my thoughts every hour of the day. She invaded my dreams. And the best part? She seemed to actually enjoy my company too.

After about three months, I finally decided it was time. I was going to tell her that I’m madly in love with her and want to run away to Paris and change our names and adopt a bunch of children and start a new life. Wait, what? No, no, no, no, no! Let’s not jump the shark here. While something along those lines might have been running through my head, I just meant the, you know, gay thing.

Did I forget to mention? Oh, yeah, and she’s openly gay.

This detail should have made things easier, but it only made it more complicated. I don’t know how she did it. What do you do? What do you say? How does one “come out”? Also, the expectations. I couldn’t even fathom what she would think of me. I could not put it off forever, though.]oih

The year was ending. She was about to graduate and be out of my life forever. I could NOT let this happen! That is what really spurred me into action.

One fateful night, we were texting like we usually did. Suddenly, in May of 2017, one month before graduation, I dropped the bomb. It was such an awkward conversation, but it had to be had.

I started off by telling her I am questioning my sexuality. A great opening, right? The gag is, I didn’t have any questions. I knew what I wanted, and it was her.

She made me feel so comfortable. She told me everything was alright and she was happy for me. She asked me how I knew, and I responded that I have a crush on a girl in our theater class. This got her even more excited, because, as a senior herself, she was good friends with all of them. She started listing senior, pressing me for her name. Nope, nope, nope. I told her I couldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t accept this, and did not stop until she named off every senior girl in that class.

12 minutes of radio silence.

She had left one person out.

“…. is it….. me?”

“... yes.”

More silence. I can’t believe I did it. I said it. She knows. My life is over.

Finally, my phone dings. I have never checked a text so fast in my life.

That’s exactly what she said. Emoji’s and typos and all. Copied and pasted straight from my text message archive. My heart was broken, but I knew I would be alright. She was so sweet and I knew that this wasn’t the end of our friendship, just some closure to a predicament that I had been stressing over for far too long.

Despite this little setback, we continued to talk and be friends. Sure, my heart might have been shattered into a million pieces, but I knew this was the likely outcome from the beginning. I set up a barrier of emotional armour to help me through it, which ended up working out just fine.

My crush on her did not end. It didn’t even waver. If anything, the chase just made me want her more.

School was awkward. Luckily, the only class I had with her was theatre, so I only saw her once a day. One awkward class length then I’m home free each day.

Summer came. School ended. I went to her graduation ceremony for which I made a huge colorful Congrats Grad! sign for her. She loved it and hung it in her room. (spoiler alert: it’s still hanging up there to this day)

I don’t know how it happened, but sometime in the very early summer, it… happened. I got her. I don’t know exactly how to describe it because it was honestly all such a blur. We just upgraded from texting to Face Time and from Face Time to spending every second of every day together in person. I had two jobs over the summer and she had one, so scheduling was a little tricky. But best believe, we found ways.

I felt myself falling in love with her more and more every day. I didn’t even think it was possible to be perfectly honest. She is just such a radiant being that I could not believe I didn’t jump on the opportunity sooner.

Our relationship hit the one month mark. This date was hard for us to decide on, because in the beginning, we were not “exclusive” meaning: I was completely and utterly devoted but she still didn’t want to be tied down so I lied and said that’s okay.

I finally decided it was time to tell my friends. I told them as nonchalantly as I could possibly manage, and I was met with one of two reactions: “OMG! I’m so happy for you! Aw I never would have thought! You two are so cute together!” or, the more common, “Hahaha I know. I was wondering when you were gonna say something.”

We had but one hiccup when she kissed another girl she worked with on the 4th of July under the fireworks… and told me about it. That night was a disaster for me because I was supposed to be there, but I couldn’t find parking. I was too late, and she slipped through my fingers. This devastated me, but I downplayed it as to not come off as weak or too sensitive or emotional. I internalized it and moved on. I still loved her. Everyone makes mistakes, right?

We stayed in the honeymoon phase for a rrreeeeaaaallllyyyyy long time. No fighting, no arguments. I don’t know how we did it. Hairo was staying over at my house every single weekend- and I’m not exaggerating. I guess my mom thought we were just really close friends. Like, really close friends. Like, really really close friends.

I was not “out” to my family yet. I knew it would be met with mixed reactions because my dad is quite the conservative and my mom is so liberal it’s kind of hard to imagine they were ever actually married at one point. Plus, my mom has a gay brother, so at least she’s not foreign to the subject.

I knew my mom would be more accepting, but she’s so hard to talk to. We don’t have the ideal mother-daughter relationship that everyone craves. We simply coexist. My dad is another story, though. Our political views are radically different, but he treats me like a princess. I love him very much, and was hoping our close bond would offset his reaction to me being “wrong”.

I just let my mom figure it out. She stopped letting my girlfriend spend the night and insinuated an open-door policy. Fair. We never really explicitly talked about it, but there was a level of understanding. She changed, though. She became much more strict over me. She put a curfew on me that I never had before. She stopped talking to me like family and more as “I’m in charge of you, you do what I say and do not speak unless spoken to”. She developed such an attitude towards me that I could hardly look at her. And all the while, maintaining the “I’m your mother, why don’t you talk to me? You know you can tell me anything!” but I can’t. I just simply don’t like her enough. The way she treated me just because I’m gay is unacceptable and, quite frankly, disgusting. I was NOT expecting this response from her. This created such a divide between us that I started spending more time at my dad’s house in Brisbane (South San Francisco, not Australia).

We were in the car heading back to the ferry so my brother and I could ride it back to Vallejo and come home in time for school the next day. It was late, and I wasn’t used to not seeing her all weekend. It felt weird. My dad didn’t know anything yet, which is just where I wanted him. I love the man, but was definitely afraid of his pending reaction. He had always talked about me “finding the right man and building a stable household”. Yeah. I’m 16 and he’s been feeding me that garbage since I was at least 10.

All was going fine. We had had a great weekend and I just wanted to get home and go to sleep. Then the phone rang.

Guess who it was.

If you guessed Hairo, you would be absolutely right. I answered the phone after about three rings, because I had to whisper-ask my dad if it was okay.

“Hello-”

“Hi baaabbyy!” I was interrupted. A big, goofy grin spread across my face.

“I’m in the car with my dad and brother, so I can’t really talk. What’s up?”

“I miss you.” My smile grew and I felt my cheeks blushing. Oh, crap. “What time are you getting back? Can I see you?”

I hesitated. “Well, my ferry arrives back in Vallejo at 9, and my curfew is 10. So I don’t think it’d be worth it swinging by your house for 5 minutes…” I trailed off. I really did want to see her, but did not want to face my mother’s wrath for missing curfew.

Our conversation lasted another minute or two. I was talking so quietly because I didn’t want my dad and brother to hear everything, you know?

I hung up the phone and just sat in silence. A few moments passed until my dad looked over with a slick smile and narrowed eyes.

“Who was thaaaat?” he asked in a sing-song voice. I felt my face turn scarlet.

“No one… just… uh… my girlfriend.” I said that last part extra fast.

More silence.

“Like…. A girl friend or a ….girlfriend?”

The next few moments hung in the air so thick and heavily it felt like an eternity in 4 seconds.

“A girlfriend.” I said in the smallest voice I could muster.

His reaction was not near what I was expecting. He looked at me and just stared for a second. I stared back. Then I watched at his eyes slowly began to became shinier and shinier, the red taillights of the traffic reflected vividly as if I were looking straight ahead. He put his hand on my leg and squeezed gently.

“I love you sweetie.” was all he could choke out.

I couldn’t believe it. My dad, the conservative, blunt, traditional,Trump-supporting immigrant was... tearing up. I had only ever seen my dad cry once or twice in my whole life before this. I didn’t know how to react. His gesture touched my soul in a place that I would never expect from him, and I will never forget how he welcomed and accepted me with such open arms.

Our relationship after that defining moment has been great ever since. We are only becoming closer. Every time I see him, there is an extra layer of unspoken understanding and comfort between us that we never had before.

Although my parents individually reacted in the exact opposite ways I was anticipating, I am still fine. I’ll be fine. I was dreading talking to them so much, but I see that I didn’t really have anything to be afraid of. Sure, my mom and I are still not on the best of terms. But it’s not the end of the world. I didn’t get kicked out or anything.

I am slowly trying to mend my relationship with my mother. I am trying to maintain my relationship with Hairo. I am bettering my relationship with my dad.

If it wasn’t clear, I’m only a Junior in highschool now. I am graduating a year early and going to NVC until I can transfer. I’ve gotten criticism from this, saying I’m jeopardizing my future or trying to “grow up too fast” just to follow my girlfriend to college. This isn’t true, but I am above the criticism. I understand the viewpoint, but I choose not to engage. I know what I want out of life, and am just going about it in the best way for me.

I guess the lesson here is don’t be afraid to be yourself. I was closeted for so much of my life that I was feeling trapped within myself. That is not a good feeling, if anyone was wondering. I was afraid to admit to myself, let alone tell anyone that I was gay. It doesn’t matter. It’s okay to be different.

At this point in my life, I am perfectly content with who I am and where I am going. I encourage all who read this to not be scared to be yourself and go for what you want. Be ambitious, be bold. Don’t concern yourself with others’ opinion of you because they do not matter in the grand scheme of things. You got this!