RAVEN
TENNESSEE| SERIES # 4
I have always been attracted to both masculine and feminine beings, but it hadn’t occurred to me that it was wrong until I saw Janet Jackson on Good Times, professed my love for her, and was ridiculed for my infatuation. I knew then that a woman could love another woman, in ways that weren’t platonic, but my family frowned upon the notion and told me I was wrong. I loved her though, and I knew that I had to marry her or someone just like her. A woman. A Black woman.
I tried and failed miserably at coming out at least four times. The first two times I was in middle school. No one took me seriously though because I was “too young” to know. How ironic is it that I had spent my whole life with myself and couldn’t tell them what and how I felt? I came out again at eighteen, after my first month in college. I had moved away from a toxic living situation, shut out the world for an entire month and realized that I was both Queer and non-binary (ish). I came out as bisexual though because it was safer. I totally rejected my true identity, until I realized that I was no longer comfortable lying to the people I loved the most. I came out to my best friend first and then to every other person outside of my family unit whose opinion I valued, individually. They were all receptive and made me feel comfortable and valid, so I was somewhat eager to tell my family. My sister, Jasmine, and very few others in the family surrounded me with love, everyone else was upset. My mom was mortified because being anything other than the binary was an abomination. Our relationship was already chaotic, so my identity was just another reason for her not to love me. I was broken. All I had ever wanted growing up was for her to see me, to love me. According to her, I was no longer her daughter and I was going to Hell. I felt as if though I had prolonged or possibly damaged our chances of ever having a non-toxic mother-daughter relationship. I was right, but my identity wasn’t at fault and her inability to love me wasn’t my burden to bare.
It took me two years after coming out to accept the fact that the only person’s love and approval I ever truly needed was my own. I opened my heart to love, began loving myself and I’ve been navigating in that space ever since. I do a lot of positive things to remind myself that I am valid and worthy of existing. One of my favorite self-care practices is simple- a shower. I take long showers on Saturdays, play my music to the maximum volume on my speaker and allow myself to feel whatever I’ve gone through that week. I do not leave the bathroom until I am rid of any negative feelings and once I leave, I write. I spend at least four hours in complete isolation every Saturday. This time to myself always me to reframe my mindset and focus on the good in my life.
To anyone stuck in their journey, to anyone who feels invalid, to anyone on the verge of giving in, don’t. The feeling of defeat doesn’t last forever. Know that you matter. Know that you are valid. Know that you are loved. Know that you are the good in someone’s life. Now and forever.
