Queer Secrets

[Text window: I've never been in love. That's probably true for a lot of gay guys, but it makes me feel broken. I've never been with someone I'd bring home to meet my family—hell, I've had one boyfriend, and I ended up hating him. My family says they'll love and accept me, but I have this caustic fear, a fear that I'll find someone, and I'll bring him home; that the moment he steps through the door, it'll be real for them, and they'll realize that they can't love a faggot. And then I won't just be broken. I'll be shattered. I hate this. I hate who I am. I hate that I want to fall in love with men. I hate men, and I hate me. We talk about pride and love, but all I feel is hate and shame.]

[I have never watched The L-Word.]

[Image: words colored to match the Trans flag on a rainbow background reading: "I have had a crush on my best friend for the longest time, when I told him he turned me down saying he was gay, now I identify as male, sometimes I think about asking him out again, but in my heart I still know, he sees me as a girl]

[Background is the asexual flag. In the top left corner is a rainbow flag with the lesbian symbol. In the bottom right corner is a rainbow flag with a question mark. Between them, the text reads: "I know it is perfectly valid to be bi. I affirm that absolutely. But, it just seems to be a thing that I just orient towards women in ways that I *don’t* towards men, don’t towards others. And I want that in my orientation words at least *too*, and I want something I can use where I don’t feel imposter/no-right about it because one of my partners is my boyfriend. (I don’t like ‘homoflexible’ at all. The focus is all on the ‘flexible’ part and I want the focus on women, dammit)"]

a folded piece of paper which reads: I am was a straight woman who fell in love with my boss, a woman who was is married to a man. after two painful years of sneaking around and broken promises, she did not choose me. and I feel ruined, dirty, worthless. a hotel room key: these moments meant everything to me

[Description: A program window displaying Windows Notepad. Text: "I tried to convince myself that I'm not dysphoric because I have a feeling that I'll never be able to transition." End description.]

(image: black and white hands holding broken heart, with text that says "you have no idea how much it hurts to see you with him. I keep trying to tell myself that I'm better off without you, but lying isn't going to fix anything. The truth is that I love you, Makayla. And no matter how hard I try, that isn't going to change.")

[image: the agender pride flag. text: “Only two people know I'm agender irl. Everyone else still thinks I'm a girl. I'm afraid to come out.”]

[image: black and white duck/rabbit illusion with dark grey text beneath. text: My family doesn't talk about how my aunts are gay or that my sister is bi or that I've obviously been struggling with my gender and sexuality for years. I have short hair, I openly wish I could grow a beard, I hate shaving my legs, I put up fights against wearing dresses on special occasions, I don't date, I support marriage equality (passionately), I try to avoid church (also passionately), I bemoan gender norms, and my taste in clothing is verging on androgynous. I know what I am, but after so many years of playing Fugitive with my family and identity I fear that the only word I or my family could find to describe me would be 'monster'.]

[Image: Green, sparkly mist. Text: She was the only girl I'd ever liked in any way beyond friendship. It wasn't in quite the same way as I like guys, but I wanted her all the same. When it was over, they'd ask me why I was still crying, and I'd say: "it's because I still like her." But the truth? It was because I knew she was my last chance at normal.]

Sometimes I think I shouldn't be in any relationships for a while."]

[image description: two people walking away from camera, in blue wash. Text: "She was this girl that I that I could never have. But for all of my mistakes, she wasn’t one of them. I would never have told her about my feelings because that would mean space in-between me and her. And I would never have done that. She was far too special; too valuable to me. With her, I felt control, but at the same time I just let it happen. She was the one person I based everything on, I thought about the repercussions for her in everything that I did. For the first time, I felt I belonged, I felt safe. With her first I felt whole, and with her first I lived my truth."