And after ages of fights, letters, crying, talking, not talking, quietly sitting through intentionally hurtful/not-intentionally-hurtful-but-really-just-breathtakingly-uninformed-opinions-about-"the gay lifestyle"...
I had, in the past year, taken a deep breath...and let it go.
As if I was opening my hand and blowing iridescent glitter from a drag show into the wind.
It was ok.You cannot change people.
They can't change me into who they want me to be, and I can't change them into people who love me for who I actually am in my entirety.
I had struggled with wanting their acceptance (not approval! just acceptance! I don't need them to agree with me!) for a long time, and I was tired, and everything hurt, and I was done.
I felt too happy with all other areas of my life to let this toxic bullshit continually bring me down.
I thought about it a lot, and then...I carefully battened down the hatches of my lil' heart, untied my hitchin' line, and sailed away from my parents into the rainbow sunset....
I felt fuckloads better.
Nothing could touch me!
My heart was made of that rainbow metal that baby dykes get for piercings!
Until...I didn't feel so good anymore.