To Be Grown and Queer

In my youth, I was so worried about what my bible carrying father would do to me if he found out I was bi. I played the straight role for more than half my life. Though, my choice in attire had folks assuming I was a lesbian.
Because you know, keeping shit androgynous instantly makes someone queer.
[INSERT EYEROLL]
When I was ten years old, I watched as a family member was shunned and condemned by relatives after coming out. Their cruelty made a lasting impression. My own father stopped talking to this person and had nothing but terrible things to say about them.
Can you imagine how scared I was? His reaction caused me to withdraw and cower. I pushed my queerness down and forced myself into a box I never fit in.
It was rough for many years. I am proud to say I have gotten over and grown out of that hellish religious trauma.
Three immediate family members still don’t know I’m bisexual. Yes, one being my father. The other two, I just don’t care enough to tell them. I know how they’d take it and I don’t need that, type of negativity in my life.
Fuck that, I don’t want a lecture, I don’t need to be read scriptures that gave me nightmares as a child. I don’t need their opinions or upturned noses.
We’re not obligated to disclose our sexuality. You don’t have to tell a soul. I live in my truth daily. I don’t need their validation or support, because I have learned to love and accept myself.
Those of y’all who know, KNOW. Growing up in a Baptist environment will have you hating yourself and projecting. This is a struggle! I don’t withhold this information due to shame, no.
I JUST DON’T CARE ANYMORE.
I’ve reached a certain age where I truly don’t give damn. I look at my reflection and smile. I love her. I love this woman. I love who she is and what she has done and will do.
I’ll be damned to let anybody badmouth me for extending myself grace and love. You cannot let them steal your joy!