I’m From Las Vegas, NV.

I’m From Las Vegas, NV.

I was 4 years old when I realized I liked girls. I remember at that age asking my mom if I was a boy or a girl. She said “Why?! Do you feel like a boy?!” I knew at that very moment that she would hate me if she ever found out that I liked girls, so I decided that I would never tell her.

Throughout the years my attraction for girls just grew and grew. I knew I’d go to hell if I had these feelings so I just kept trying to hide them and avoid it. When I got into middle school I noticed that I started to have more feelings towards girls. It was a hard time because I wanted to take them to dances, I wanted to have my first kiss, I wanted to be that couple that walked around school holding hands but I knew I couldn’t. I was so upset that I had these feelings, it made me so angry inside because I knew it was wrong and I just wanted it all to go away. Then I got into high school…

Freshman year was the last straw. I couldn’t take it anymore. I realized that this was me and that I needed to stop fighting it. So I came out to my friends towards the end of the year. They were very accepting and I was so relieved because I thought they were all going to freak out. Sophomore year was when I really started to come out about it. I started dating girls online, while having boyfriends on the side at school so my mom would never find out. I felt terrible for using them but I needed a way to distract my mom. Then I started dating girls in real life (not online). I did this without my mom knowing all the way up until senior year. It was about 2-3 months before graduation. I was dating this boy named Bradley. I finally told him that I was a lesbian and broke up with him. He was so heart broken that he texted my mom and told her everything, and I mean everything. So my mom went online and she found my other myspace. The myspace I had kept hidden for so long. She came into my room and flipped. Screaming and saying the most terrible things I had ever heard come out of her mouth. She took everything I had (computer, TV, guitar etc.) and then she called everyone in the world and told them. I was so hurt, I was so done with it I just wanted to die. It didn’t help that my grandma who meant the most to me wasn’t on my side either. So I stopped going to school for about 3 days. I tried meeting my girlfriend at the time somewhere to run away but my mom followed me in her car. I threw a big rock at her bumper so she called the cops on me. I hid and the cops left. Then when I came back home my mom told me to get out of her house. I said okay and started to leave but then she told me I “had” to go to my dads or she’d call the cops and say I ran away. I didn’t want to go to his house, I barely even knew the man, but I ended up going there anyways because I didn’t want to go to Juvi.

At this point in my life I gave up on everything. I skipped classes, I smoked in the hallways, I took pain pills. I didn’t care. One class period I sat in an empty hallway crying. Some boys in wood shop saw me and started throwing wood blocks at me laughing. I just got up and left. I stood over the railing on the second floor of my school when nobody was around and planned to jump, but something told me not to. I told myself that I already came this far and that I needed to finish. I somehow managed to pass my classes and graduate, but I didn’t pass my math proficiency so I didn’t get my diploma right away. My mom and dad would not stop arguing on who was going to take me to my graduation. They both said they weren’t doing it because the other one needed to. So my friend ended up taking me, even though my mom and dad both went. My mom never ended up throwing me a grad party, she gave all my announcements away and she never ordered any grad pictures of me. She said I wasn’t “really” graduating so I didn’t deserve anything. My dad threw me a small party but I was too upset about everything to really pay attention. Almost a year later I finally passed my math test and received my diploma. I am now living with my girlfriend of almost 2 years and I could never be more happy. My point is, don’t give up. Keep going because things will get better. With, or without your family’s support.

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