Masquerade

Story time: When I was like 14 and a Baby Queer™ just starting to figure out that I proooobably wasn’t straight, dealing with a couple of really scary mental health issues, I also met Jen. Jen was in just one of my classes, a senior, and honestly?? when we became friends she saved my life repeatedly. I literally do not think I could have survived my freshman year without her. She was this large, scary looking, openly out butch lesbian who took me under her wing, kept me safe and helped me learn how to love myself. She would literally sit there with me during episodes, stroke my hair offer to get me water, and when it was over she never condemned me for this. She gave me the confidence boost I needed to ask out my first girlfriend. Jen defended me against my bullies without hesitation. She told me that it didn’t matter if my parents didn’t accept who I was and she helped me overcome my fear of my abuser. I used to unironically call her mom.

Your wife says, “Actually, I’m bisexual,” and you hear, “I’m only half in love with my wife and hoping to keep my options open while I look for a heterosexual exit.” But all that she’s saying is that she’s bisexual. That’s it. You’re adding a lot of assumptions, fears, and insecurities to the mix. She’s in a relationship with a lesbian, but that doesn’t mean she’s in a lesbian relationship.

the elevator in the second one tho