It all started back in middle school. My conversations with friends turned to being solely about which boys they like or think are cute. And I had a hard time relating to them. The thought of dating a boy had never even ran through my mind. But that’s all they would ever talk about.

Any time I was seen talking to a boy from my class, they would all tease me by asking if he was my boyfriend. I would always immediately deny any sort of relationship with anyone, but that never stopped them. Frankly, the thought of dating a guy grossed me out.

Whenever I would be asked who I thought was cute, they would look at me as if my answer of “no one” was somehow wrong. After a while, they stopped asking. They actually stopped asking me anything. It felt like I was being left behind when I didn’t want to participate.

Eventually, I began to go along with it. I still hadn’t understood why I wasn’t able to share the same interests as my friends, but it was easy enough to fool them. If one of my friends asked me what type of guy I liked, I would just pick a male celebrity that was famous at the time and say "Someone like him." Everyone seemed to always accept my answer, and even agree with me.

Though it became harder once boys from my school began asking me out.

For some reason, I always seemed to attract a lot of attention from boys. Almost every week it felt like someone had left a love note in my locker. And ever time I had to turn them down. It kept getting harder to keep finding excuses though. After enough pestering, I began telling everyone I wasn’t interested in dating. The confessions slowed down, but never stopped.

After a while of living like that, I began to wonder if I would ever find out what was different about me. That was until one day, I saw something on TV that completely changed my life.

I can’t even remember what I was watching, but the scene of two women kissing was burnt into my mind. It was probably just some trashy movie that was made for the males gaze. But it was still the first time I ever saw two woman in a relationship. And honestly, it scared me. Scared me enough to change the channel and turn off the TV.

My heart was racing while looking at my reflection in the black screen of the TV. The scene kept playing back in my head and wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t understand the feelings at the time, but I now know that what I was feeling was arousal.

When I began to feel embarrassed about how much I was replaying the scene in my head, I ran to my room and hid my face in my pillow. Which was the worst thing to do if I was trying to get my mind off things.

My curiosity eventually got the best of me, and I pulled out my phone to do some research. And after unknowingly clicking like a hundred different porn links, I was able to find sites that were actual lesbians talking about their experiences.

Once I read all the different stories about peoples experiences, I suddenly didn’t feel so alone anymore. Finally I had the answer to my question after all this time. Realizing that I was a lesbian made me so happy I immediately wanted to tell someone about it.

But with further reading on the website, came stories about people being treated badly. Things like discrimination and children being disowned by their families. And even though, at the time, I still had no reason to believe my parents would respond poorly, I still felt the need to hide it from them.

Life was pretty normal for me after that. I went to school and hung out with friends on my days off. But it was towards the end of eight grade when things began to slip, and when the catalyst to how my life turned out the way it did happened.

The friend group I had at the time was quite large. We were all pretty close with one another, and one day, I decided I felt safe enough to come out to the friend I was closest to in the group.

She was so sweet about it. She even hugged me, then told me how happy she was for me to tell her something that personal. It felt like our friendship became stronger after that moment. Finally, I had someone I could trust and be completely open with.

But I told her that all in confidence, and made sure to remind her how big of a secret it was. She ensured me that she would never tell another living soul. And everything was fine… for about a week.

One day, there was a knock on my bedroom door "Hey sweetie, would you mind coming downstairs? Me and your dad have something we need to talk to you about." my mom asked me after I answered.

Everything about that question and her tone sounded so harmless "Of course! I'll be down in one second!" I was so innocent back then.

I finished what I was doing, then went to meet with my parents downstairs. Only when I got there, they both looked much more agitated. My mom was pacing back and forth while my dad was staring at me with his arms crossed.

It made me feel nervous "H-hi mom, hi dad. Whats did you want to talk to me about?"

My dad answered "Sit down. There's some thing we need to ask you." then gestured to the couch in front of them.

His tone sounded much more intimidating than my mom’s before. It let me know that they were angry with me about something. I felt so small as I walked past him to sit on the couch he was standing over. My heart was pounding. I still had no idea what the conversation could be about.

After sitting, he stared at me for a moment before saying "We heard some rumors and we need to have you confirm if they're true or not."

"Oh... what rumors did you hear?" I was trying to be calm, but on the inside, I was freaking out.

My mom finally stopped her pacing. She looked at me while on the brink of tears "The other day, I ran into one of your friends moms at the grocery store. And she told me some really disturbing things about you. She told me… that you were gay.”

Time felt as if it had stopped. My body was shaking as my mom continued “Please tell me that it's not true... please tell me that it's just some dumb rumor."

I was completely frozen. My biggest fear was being realized right in front of my eyes, and what was I suppose to do? After seeing the look of anger my dad had, and with tears about to fall from my mom’s eyes, I knew that they wouldn’t respond well to the truth.

So I decided to lie "No it's not true! I don't know why she would even say something like that! It must be a misunderstanding or something, we sometimes joke around about that stuff at school but it's never been serious!"

For the moment, the lie worked on my mom. She sat down on the couch beside me and gave me a hug “Thank god! I don't know what I would have done if it were true."

I had felt so dirty participating in that hug. Not because I was lying to her, but because I had to lie about my sexuality in the first place. It was very apparent to me that I would have to keep this lie going the entirety of my time living with my parents.

But as I was hugging her, I peered over to my dad. His expression and body language still hadn’t changed. It made me feel uneasy. Based on the way he was still acting, I suspected that my lie hadn’t worked on him.

And though the lie worked on my mom, I was still sent to my room for the rest of the day as if I were being punished. Even over the next few days, I felt like I was walking on eggshells whenever in the same room.