Trenise | 18 | Taken
You are 12. You’re at the library looking for some generic young adult fiction novel about a girl who falls for her best friend. Your dad makes a disgusted face. “This is about lesbians,” he says. The word falls out of his mouth as though it pains him. You check out a different book and cry when you get home, but you aren’t sure why. You learn that this is not a story about you, and if it is, you are disgusting.
You are 15. Your relatives are fawning over your cousin’s new boyfriend. “When will you have a boyfriend?” they ask. You shrug. “Maybe she’s one of those lesbians,” your grandpa says. You don’t say anything. You learn that to find love and acceptance from your family, you need a boyfriend who thinks you are worthy of love and acceptance.
You are 18. Your first boyfriend demands to know why you never want to have sex with him. He tells you that sex is normal and healthy. You learn that something is wrong with you.
You are 13. You’re at a pool party with a relative’s friend’s daughter. “There’s this lesbian in my gym class. It’s so gross,” she says. “Ugh, that’s disgusting,” another girl adds. They ask you, “do you have any lesbians at your school?” You tell them no and they say you are lucky. You learn to stay away from other girls.
You are 20. You have coffee with a girl and you can’t stop thinking about her for days afterwards. You learn the difference between a new friendship and new feelings for a person.
You are 13. Your mom is watching a movie. You see two girls kiss on screen. You feel butterflies and this sense that you identify with the girls on the screen. Your mom gets up and covers the screen. You learn that if you are like those girls, no one wants to see it.
You are 20. You and your friends are drunk and your ex-boyfriend dares you to make out with your friend. You both agree. You touch her face. It feels soft and warm. Her lips are small and her hands feel soft on your back. You learn the difference between being attracted to someone and recognizing that someone you care about is attractive.
You are 16. You find lesbian porn online. Their eyes look dead and their bodies are positioned in a way that you had never imagined. You learn that liking girls is acceptable if straight men can decide the terms.
You are 20. You are lying next to a beautiful girl and talking about everything. You tell her things that you don’t usually tell anyone. You learn how it feels not to want to go to sleep because you don’t want to miss out on any time with someone.
You are 18. You are in intro to women’s and gender studies. “Not all feminists are lesbians- I love my husband! Most of the feminists on our leadership team are straight! It’s just a stereotype,” the professor exclaims. You learn that lesbianism is something to separate yourself from.
You are 15. Your parents are talking about a celebrity. Your dad has a grin on his face and says, “her girlfriend says that she’s having the best sex of her life with her!” You learn that being a lesbian is about the kind of sex you have and not how you love.
You are 21 and you are kissing a beautiful girl and she’s your girlfriend and you understand why people write songs and make movies and stupid facebook statuses about this and time around you just seems to stop and you could spend forever like this and you learn that there is nothing wrong with you and you are falling in love.
You are 21. And you are okay.
do you ever get in those moods where you don’t know how to feel and everything kinda feels mixed up and you’re just sitting there alone in your room trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you
You have no idea how much I want to feel your legs intertwined with mine as we lay asleep, knowing you’re right there and not going anywhere.
being best friends with a guy is extremely stressful tbh.
I am fucking dying
I feel like this used to be my life in all honesty w o w haha.
Thisss. Oh my goodness, it’s so accurate and perfect.(via restless-dreamers-wander)
Dear Future Soulmate,
I’m clingy, but I’ll never admit it. I’ll check my phone every 5 minutes to see if you’ve replied to something I’ve drafted numerous times in my head. I’ll get anxious when you don’t answer me back for a long time, and I’ll think to myself maybe you’ve had enough of me. Yet when your message finally comes, it doesn’t matter what you’ve said because the simple act of replying assures me that you’re still mine. At least, for the time being it will.
I’ll get jealous a lot, but please don’t misconstrue it as me tying you down. I won’t get jealous because I want you all to myself, no. I want you to be able spend time with family, friends, and everyone else in between. I’ll get jealous because maybe, just maybe you’ll find something special in someone else, as you did with me. I’ll be weary that maybe you’ll look at someone just as how you look at me, or your heart will begin to wander somewhere else.
I’m insecure, and it’s of no fault of your own. When I say something a little negative about myself, it’s not a cry for attention nor is it me wanting you to disagree with me. It’s me just being me. Before you, I’ll probably never imagine in a million years that you’d be mine. So by virtue of the fact that we’re together makes me even more insecure. But let me make something clear, I won’t be bagging on myself all the time. I know what talents I possess, what I excel in, the aspects in my physique that work in my favor, and so on. I’m just more vocal on the things which fall in the opposite categories.
I’ll possess many faults, and I’m not looking for you to fix them. I think when I finally meet you, I’ll be more accepting of these faults than I am now. All I’m asking is that you accept them with me.
I know this letter seems to be focusing on the negative things about me, and it’s quite a bit to take in… so let me make a change of pace.
I’ll always love you. When we’re finally acquainted, and we finally begin to personify the definition of love for one another, I’ll never need another definition. I’ve told myself countless times that I would never cheat on someone because I know what that feels like. I’ll love you more than I love myself and I know that isn’t too great but that’s just how I am. I’m going to fall in love with the way your smile dances across your face every time you see me, I’ll fall in love with the way you lose yourself in the things you love, I’ll fall in love with the way your voice fluctuates depending on how you’re feeling, I’ll fall in love with the way you say my name, and I’ll most definitely fall in love with so much more. I’ll study everything about you, I’ll remember the slightest details about you and your life. I’ll know what you look like when you’re upset without you having to say a word, I’ll know how you like your coffee in the morning, I’ll know how long it takes you to get ready before we go out, I’ll know most of the trivial things about you and the rest I’ll learn along the way. I pray you’ll be able to do the same as well.If you’re still reading, and you haven’t run away… I’ll probably be sitting across from you looking insanely nervous and insecure. I’d be sitting with my legs folded under me on the chair anxiously waiting for your reaction. On top of that I’ll probably be ready to burst into tears of happiness or tears of sadness.
So to end this letter, which my actual soulmate will read once the time comes… I’d like to say thank you. Thank you for giving me a reason to live again, thank you for proving to me that love really is meant for me, and thank you for being my reason to be alive.
Love, Your Future Soulmate
Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest—thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the under wood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated.