I always knew who I really was, no one else did.
I remember my first experience, I was five.
Innocent and pure.
I had to make sure.
After that it was always different.
I knew I was different.
But that person was nonexistent.
That person was considered not right.
She was taught that was a sin.
So she held it all in.
She was confused that if this was who she was then why was it so wrong?
Did she just have to lie and play along?
Was there something wrong with her?
Was there a cure?
She was lost and had no where to turn.
The hurt inside was left to burn.
She had to lie and be deceitful to the people she loved.
But she was afraid what would happen when push came to shove.
She wanted so badly to be who she really was and love who she wanted to love.
But in this judgmental world she was scared of all of the above.
Was my family going to disown me?
Was I going to be all alone?
Would my friends be accepting?
Would I be able to hold my own?
All of the unknown tore at her insides.
Would she be able to leave all of that behind?
What about the rest of the world?
How would they handle what was about to unfurl.