“Hello, my name is Lisa and I am gay.” These words seem so easy to say, as if I'm saying "I like the color blue" or "I like strawberries". But really, what does it mean? How does it affect my life, my goals, and my dreams? What will others think about me? Will I be shunned as if I were a cancer? Although very personal, I think it's important to share my discovery and internal and external struggles towards acceptance. This is my story....

It was a nice summer day back in 1990. The weather outside was hot, humid and almost unbearable. I could feel the excitement in the air. I enjoyed school but what I really enjoyed was staying up late, sleeping in and having the house to myself. Not to mention it I had more time for self-discovery, as well as time to get into a little trouble.

I was a mere eight year old kid, full of life and innocence. Nothing seemed to bother me. I was a bit of a tomboy and what some might call a “rough around the edges.” I hadn't worn a dress since what I like to call "the disaster" back when I was five. Imagine being forced to take a family portrait wearing a red dress with fluffy white lace. That wasn't even the worst part. Imagine your sister wearing the same dress. It was a nightmare! Why are parents so cruel?

I had many neighbor friends and we played outside every day until dusk. Our favorite games included kicking the ball over the electric wiring and dodge ball played with rocks. Maybe we weren't the brightest kids around, but we kept ourselves busy. At eight, I thought I knew it all, and boy was I wrong.

One summer day, back in 1990, I was riding my bicycle to the corner store to buy some candy with my allowance. The money was burning a hole in my pocket and I couldn't bear waiting one more day. My mouth was just salivating for a Milky Way bar. On my way to the corner store, I noticed a family moving in and then I noticed her. Before you start thinking it is weird, I don't mean in that way. It could not have been more innocent and child-like.

We lived in a small neighborhood, so someone moving in was sort of a big deal. As a child, I had a very forward personality so it wasn't unusual for me to walk up to a stranger, especially someone my age. That is just what I did. I walked up to her and asked for her name. She said her name was Crystal and she was from Hawaii. I had never met someone from Hawaii, or at least I had not to my best knowledge. She seemed so nice and welcoming. From that day forward, Crystal and I were best friends.

As I got to know her and her family, I realized they were __different than most others __in the neighborhood. Her mom, whom I'll call Ms. X, was unmarried and single. Most kids I knew had a mom and a dad. "Weird," I thought, but maybe her husband was dead or lived somewhere else. It was not my place to ask, and to be quite honest, I didn't think too much about it. Ms. X was very nice and was a great cook. Crystal and I would ride our bikes all day and come home for her famous barbeque meatball sandwiches. Nothing compares to barbeque on a hot summer day.

Also living in their household was Crystal's Aunt Burt. She was a little older and not as friendly. I didn't see her around much when I was there. I always thought it was strange that her mom and Aunt Burt shared a bedroom, but at eight years old I could only comprehend that they were really close and nothing more.

My parents divorced when I was too young to remember, but from what my mom says, my father was abusive and disrespectful. When I was five she remarried. The man she married is who I now call Dad. My mom was open minded and encouraged individual thought, but my step-dad was a bit prejudiced. He made racist and homosexual comments all the time. His comments never really affected me, until I met Crystal.

Rumors began to swirl about Aunt Bert and Ms. X. Everyone was saying they weren't sisters but lovers. I didn't care, I wasn't friends with them. I was friends with Crystal, and really, what's the big deal? My Dad sat me down to explain to me that homosexuality was wrong and I could no longer be friends with or contact Crystal and her family. I was distraught. She was my best friend. Why? What did I do to deserve this? I had no choice but to give up the fight and accept reality.

Things were pretty normal in my life until I got to high school. Freshman year I began dating. Jay was my first serious boyfriend. He was my sister's best friend's brother. He was so dreamy. He had beautiful eyes, spiky hair, and the whitest teeth that I have ever seen. But something was missing. I wasn't quite sure what it was or maybe I wasn't brave enough to admit it then.

One Saturday in June, the summer after my freshman year, things seemed different between Jay and I. He was quiet and distant. We had a great relationship, except for one thing, intimacy. His quietness scared me. That day, he looked at me and I knew. I knew what he was going to say. For one moment, time stood still. My heart pounded with fear. Fear that I was, again, losing my best friend. "We need to break up", he said. I was filled with sadness, emptiness and loneliness.

Break-ups are hard to get over. I really never thought of myself as clingy and needy. I always saw those kinds of girls as weak and lacking self-esteem, but could that possibly be me? I found myself questioning everything. Who am I? What am I about? What is my purpose? Why am I not good enough?

As time went on, I began to feel like myself. I joined clubs, the basketball team and made new friends. I was getting to know "me" again and I really like the person I was becoming. One day, after a grueling basketball practice, a classmate of mine introduced me to one of her friends. I had never met this girl before but I knew about her. She was one of those people who had not learned, “If you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” She immediately asked me if I was gay. I was stunned. "What?” “Me?" I thought. "No way," I said. I was embarrassed. She had some nerve. Did I look at her the wrong way? Did she think I was checking her out?

I felt upset, confused and pissed off. I didn't understand why anyone would think that about me. Okay, yes, I know, I'm not feminine but I'm certainly not overly butch. I took what nerve I had left in myself and walked outside. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. I couldn't let her know that it bothered me. I sat alone, just thinking. At that moment my mom pulled up to take me home.

Later that night, I sat home and cried. Maybe she saw something in me that I didn't see myself. The thought that I may actually be gay scared me. I wasn’t ready to admit it. I wasn’t ready to face my fears.

The next couple of years were trying. Teenage years are tough enough without this added pressure. It took a long time, but during my senior year of high school, I was finally ready to admit it. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

It was the second week of class. The halls were filled with eager students, bustling around trying to get to class on time. The smell of frozen rectangle pizza filled the air. It was lunch time. We all sat down at our normal spot, eating fast before the bell rang. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to tell them. I took one deep breath and said, “Guys, you know me better than anyone else and I need to tell you that I am gay.” It wasn’t exactly what they were expecting. I couldn’t believe I finally said it out loud to people who I respect and care about. It would have been so much easier saying it to people I didn’t know. With great relief, they were open and accepting.

I felt so much better after that. My friends, who I adore, didn’t seem to mind. To them I was just the same old Lisa. I needed their acceptance in order to move on to my next task of telling my parents.

I knew my mom wasn’t going to be a problem, as she always encouraged me to be myself. It was my step-dad that I wasn’t quite sure about. He is the son of a Mississippi Baptist preacher and he had already displayed disapproval of that lifestyle. With the help of a close friend, I built up the courage to tell them.

My parents weren’t exactly what I would call excited, but they reassured me that no matter what life brings, they would always love me. It felt so good to hear those words. I knew with time they would learn to embrace it.

Some think homosexuality is a choice, others think it’s a chemical imbalance and some just think it is life. I’m not expecting anyone to change their minds on what they believe; I only wish to encourage understanding.

Lisa- Great essay. It was very personal but also informative about what you struggled with. It seems like a lot of people, young and old, will be able to identify with your story. I made some changes to the grammar and structure, but the story is really good. I think you may want to change the wording on the couple areas that I underlined. I get what you are trying to say but the way it is written is a little hard to follow. Let me know if you need any other feedback.-Sara

Thanks so much Sara for all your help.