Task Two || Dani's Big, Gay Secret
I think I was eight the first time I had a crush. Her name was Lily and we were in Girl Scouts together. One day, we were making Christmas cards for the senior citizens at the old folks home in town, and I took the markers and drew a lily - a big purple one like the flowers that grew in my mother's garden - on my arm; underneath I wrote "I love Lily." As it happens, Lily happened to notice my little tattoo sesh, and was (unsurprisingly) pretty weirded out. She made a face and whispered something to Jessie and Spencer, and they all moved to another table, although I did hear someone call out "lesbo" a few minutes later. I didn't know what a lesbo was, but I knew I didn't want to be a Girl Scout anymore.
When I was twelve, that was my last year in public school, and the teachers welcome us to the seventh grade with a dance, if you could call it that - they dimmed the lights in the gymnasium and played the Cotton Eyed Joe and Macarena for a few hours, and all the "cool" girls brought dates, even though the boys essentially stood on the opposite wall while the girls gossiped in packs. At one point, some slowish song came on, an old ballad that I can't even remember the name of. I asked Katie Carrington - she was in my art class - if she'd like to dance with me. She made a face and backed away slowly, as though I had rabies or something, and muttered, "Ugh, Danielle, that's so gay," and ran back to her friends, snickering. I spent the rest of the afternoon by the table with the juice boxes.
There was a handful of others through the years. Lisa, in my jazz/tap class when I was fourteen. Jamie, who taught yoga on Saturdays at school when I was a junior. Emily, the girl who manned the counter at the pet store in my home town. I didn't talk to any of them, though. I mean, not only had I figured out what a "lesbo" was, but I knew Katie Carrington was right: I was so gay. And I mean, I've come to terms with it, but how exactly does that even work in the real world? Introduce myself to other potential-lesbos I might meet? "Hi, I'm Danielle and I'd really like to put my face in a vagina someday."
Awkward.
My parents always figured something was off, I'm sure... I mean, I had a poster of a half-naked Britney Spears on my wall until I was in my twenties. (Gayyyyyy.) I'm sure they assumed I'd come around though, meet a nice boy at college, fall in love and have sweet, sweet straight sex with his boy dick. The dream, yeah? I mean, I was weird. I AM weird, I should say, so at least I can use the whole anti-social weirdo angle as an excuse for my boyfriendlessness, but I have no idea how much longer I can keep that up - I mean, they'll expect grandchildren eventually.
So, yeah. Feels kind of good to let that out, actually. Maybe someday I'll actually pluck up the courage to say it out loud. (Yeah, right.)
