lemonapplejuicebox submitted: LIKES GIRLS
I haven't been on this planet for a long time. It's only my sixteenth year here. I didn't start questioning until one or two years ago. I was raised in China, and people have quite conservative minds there. I was taught to fit in; to be who I'm decided and supposed to be, who everyone is decided and supposed to be. I was taught to be normal or not be anything at all. I had no idea. I didn't even know that same sex relationships existed.
I've had a few boyfriends, and I've kissed guys. Sure I felt nervous and all, but I never felt any sparks. I didn't know that you're supposed to. Everyone is straight, so I must be straight too, I thought.
I met a friend when I was fourteen. She told me that she was a bisexual like it was no big deal. I didn't understand. How can a girl like boys, but also girls at the same time? But my biggest confusion was, how can she just go telling other people like it's alright?
I guess I'm not like other girls my age. I don't like going out shopping every week to get new clothes, but I called that being focused on more important goals. I don't like showing skin and flirting with boys, but I called that having dignity. I wear baggy guy jeans instead of skinny jeans, leggings, or skirts, but I called that wearing clothes that feel more comfortable on your skin. As girls obsessed over dying their hair or putting on make-up, I read books, rode bikes, and climbed trees. But how's that not normal? So what if I'm a tomboy? So what if I cut my hair short and hang my keys on my belt? There's nothing wrong with that, even if my mum ignored me for an entire day after seeing me in boy jeans.
I wasn't in denial. I was just being real and not letting my self-consciousness mess with me. I said that, until the day when my best friend transferred. I cried, and stopped, and cried again, and stopped again. 7 months later, I realized the real reason that I was still crying. I felt horrified.
I wasn't so much as ashamed as scared. I was supposed to be normal. This kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen to me. I didn't think it was a sin, no, but I didn't want people to find out. I kept it a secret, and later told my two close friends, but I didn't want anyone else to know. I was absolutely terrified of judgement.
I like GLEE a lot, for its music, its energy, and its attitude on everything. But I kept that as a secret, too. I didn't want people to know that I watched such a show. I was still afraid of judgement, so without telling my parents what sort of concert I was actually going to see, I went to the live tour alone.
I love almost every character on glee, except for perhaps the ones that were purposely made to be unpleasant (like Terri, for example), but despite the wars I see on this website from time to time, I love all of them. I see them doing what I could be doing but not, and I wonder how many other people my age are watching and thinking about the same things. I see Kurt, I see Blaine, I see Santana and Brittany, I see Dave Karofsky. I see them all making different decisions that define who they each are as characters, and I wonder which one of them I am, or ultimately, what would I be doing to make me who I am.
If GLEE's taught me anything, it's that I can be anything that I want to be.
I realized that there is no quality that's ultimately good or bad. Qualities group and work together to create a person's identity, so by using that person as a model, they would already achieved 100% just by doing what they do, but there is no one single model. I felt that each person is their own model, and each person is their own perfection. If one were ever to try and change themselves, they would no longer be themselves, and they would no longer be perfect. Really, what's the point of trying to make yourself perfect, when you were fine the way you were?
After the concert, before exiting the building, I bought a BTW shirt that says "LIKES GIRLS". I put it on right afterwards, and just observed. Passing strangers looked at my shirt, then at me, but then they were gone, because they were just passing strangers; people whose opinions will never matter.
As I was approaching the subway station, a girl who was sitting by the sidewalk with her friends yelled at me, "Hey, I like girls, too!" I'm usually quiet and I'm awfully horrible with social interactions, so I smiled weakly and gave her a thumbs up. She wasn't satisfied. She raised her fist and cheered loudly. I was taken aback, but then I cheered, too.
On the subway was a totally new experience. There were lights. Black, huge texts on a clean, white shirt were easy to read. Seas of people going home crowded around me. People saw my shirt. Some people looked away, some people kept glancing back once in a while, some people's faces twisted a bit, and some people even moved away from me. I could physically feel their judgement racing towards me. I felt completely exposed.
I was so afraid of being criticized that I'm always busy thinking whether people are judging me or not, but when I was sure that people were, and I could feel the negative emotions, I no longer cared. Why would I care about these people's feelings when they obviously were against my complete being? Or maybe even worse, my existence? If these people didn't like me, why put the effort into pleasing them? In fact, the thought that I wasn't going to change to please them, and instead, I would continue to show off my shirt in front of them and probably piss them off, got me into a really good mood. It was almost like saying "You don't like me? Well too bad, because nothing about me is going to change. Suck that." Describing it in one word? Swag.
I only planned on wearing the shirt until I got home, but I made a decision on a whim, and continued wearing the shirt the next day to school. No one that I cared about said anything.
I hereby thank you for creating this blog, and perhaps for reading my long-ass essay.
I read this all - and you are AMAZING. That is all. :]
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