⋆ · 𖤓 · ⋆ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 ··· a collection of first loves and found family, the quiet courage of being seen, learning to take up space in a world that asked you to make yourself small. genre: romance, hurt and comfort, self discovery, queer joy.
I've been practicing saying it in the mirror for three weeks. It still doesn't sound real.
You're the first person I've told. I need you to understand what that means.
Don't make it a big deal. Also — it's the biggest deal of my life.
I knew when I was seven. I just didn't have the word for it yet.
You looked at her the same way I look at her. I think that's when I knew I wasn't alone.
Say it with me. You don't have to say it to anyone else. Just say it with me first.
My family doesn't know. I need tonight to just be about us knowing.
I came out twice today. Once on accident.
You held my hand in public and I forgot how to breathe for a second.
I spent so long pretending. I don't really know who I am without the pretending yet.
This is the first pride I've been to as myself. Bear with me if I cry a little.
I kept waiting to feel different after I said it. I just felt relieved.
Nobody gets to tell you what your identity means. Not even me.
You're allowed to still be figuring it out. The label can wait. The feeling doesn't have to.
I'm not asking you to announce anything. I'm asking you to stop hiding from me.
You looked so free today. I don't think I've ever seen you look that free.
Love is not a phase. I need you to say that back to me like you mean it.
I've loved you in every version of myself. That has to count for something.
My mother cried. I don't know yet if they were good tears or bad ones.
You didn't flinch. When I told you, you didn't flinch. Do you know what that meant to me?
I used to pray to be different. Now I think I was praying wrong.
Hold my hand. Not for anyone else. Just because I want you to.
I found the community before I found the word. That's how I knew I was home.
You are not too much. You have never been too much.
I spent years shrinking myself into something easier to love. I'm done doing that.
She smiled at me and I forgot every lie I ever told myself.
The world is loud today. Can we just be quiet together for a minute.
I'm not brave. I'm just tired of being afraid.
You loved me before I knew how to love myself. I don't know how to thank you for that.
Stop apologizing for existing so loudly. That's the whole point.
I kept the letter for two years before I sent it. I'm glad I finally sent it.
You're the first person who ever made me feel like this was something to celebrate.
I don't need anyone's permission. I just needed my own.
I'm not confused. I have never been less confused in my life.
You came. After everything, you came. That's all I needed to know.
There are so many of us. I keep forgetting how many of us there are until days like today.
I wrote it down before I could say it. Here. Read it. Take your time.
You make being this feel like the most natural thing in the world.
I hid it for so long it became a habit. Breaking habits is hard. You make it easier.
We don't have to call it anything. We just have to be honest.
I used to think the love I wanted was too much to ask for. Then I met you.
My chosen family showed up today. My blood family didn't. I know which one counts.
You kissed me in front of everyone and I think my whole life changed in that second.
I have never felt more like myself than I do standing here with you.
Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done. Everything else was the hard part.
You told me it gets better and I didn't believe you. I'm starting to believe you.
I don't want to be tolerated. I want to be celebrated. Is that too much to ask.
We made it. Look around. We actually made it here, together, and we're okay.
gummygunk
origamiaround
amandla
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