I sat there at the kitchen table stunned. Truly immobile, feeling like my insides had been sucked out my ass, leaving me vulnerable - unable to move. Paralyzed with fear...for myself, for us. My head spinning as I heard words being thrashed at me, like a leather strap to my raw skin, as my fresh wounds grew deeper and bloodier.
I was ugly, I was shameful, I was not welcomed. I remember exclaiming to them, “How could loving someone be wrong?” Their only response was to make bible references and scream lame absurdities, “Because two females don't fit together!” What the f*%# did that mean? Is that how they measured love? Based on your ability to make a baby or not? How insane were they? Had they truly lost their minds? Would they rather I'd been knocked up? Isn't THAT every parent's worst nightmare? Apparently not my parents. How did I end up with the homophobes? Just my luck, I guess.
1 comment:
That's wanting me to read more
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