Beginnings

I always picked up on the fact I was a little bit different. I attributed it to be being neurodivergent, something I found out when I was twelve. It made sense I never picked up on social cues or other social situations, I always had intense interests, I soon learned not to share and to be embarrassed by. I was always considered shy in class as I wouldn't talk, where in reality I didn't talk, because we needed to be quiet at that time. I had run on sentences in my writing, that often needed to be shortened, or needed to be edited out because I wasn't staying on topic. Other kids always seemed to have their backpacks neatly organized; meanwhile, at the end of the day, mine was a mess, and when I was given control of my backpack, it stayed a perpetual mess. 

It made sense, at least until I was twelve and a half, around 2015. My mom had been into politics since the 2012 election, and had always wanted to talk to me and my brother about it. So one day when she was picking up my brother and me, she was upset. I, of course, asked why, and she explained why, "gay marriage." Upon hearing a word used in a way I have never heard, I asked about it. "It is when a girl likes a girl, and a boy likes a boy," was the simple explanation she offered up. Oh, oh, OH! "And it is against God. I honestly don't know why they can't just be ... normal." And with that the quick realization I had quickly shattered. I wasn't great at controlling my facial expressions then, but I quickly hid my shocked expression with a more neutral one. 

The next few years I lived in fear. I couldn't let anyone know. I felt trapped. It made sense though. In kindergarten to second grade, I was close friends with a girl, and I admired her, but as I thought more on it, I really liked her. In third grade I made close friends with another girl at church. We were constantly hanging out, and made and exchanged close personal gifts with each other. Occasionally we would talk about living close to each other, and being best friends forever. Eventually she moved away, but the gifts we exchanged to this day are some of my treasured possessions. Up until that point, I had chosen to have 'crushes' on boys, thinking it was something that girls are supposed to do to fit in and be considered normal. Now as I entered seventh grade. I felt isolated because I was constantly at home or school. The family computer we had was in the living room, and it had a giant monitor. Moreover, when my parents said I would be allowed a phone at 16, they made it clear they would be closely monitoring it. 

So when I started making more friends at my new school, I was understandably fearful, no one in my close circle of people openly supported being gay. I needed to hide being gay from everyone. Thankfully I was able to make friends and trust them, although I couldn't trust them with being gay. My mom at that time was constantly asking me and my brother if we were gay and at separate times, saying that being gay is caused by trauma, and that if I was gay she would send me to a Christian counselor to find out why I was gay. 

At that time I started to repress being gay. I also got very depressed. I started not paying attention in class, and started turning in my assignments less and less. I was placed in an advanced mathematics class for two years in seventh and eighth grade, but I was not doing well because of everything. It was in seventh grade when I received my first phone from my aunt, although it could only connect to wifi. Dealing with my depression and low self-esteem, I would constantly use it late at night to ask if I was pretty I started staying up throughout the nights reading or being on my phone, when I got home from school, I would go to the couch and just pass out for several hours. I stopped drawing or doing any sort of crafts, thinking I would be able to pick them back up again when I had a more professional set up. 

In nineth grade, by some miracle, I had temporarily forgotten I was gay. I was doing better than I had in a while, I started drawing more, but staying up throughout the night did not change. My parents let me have a phone and actively encouraged it, saying it was a good thing that I could contact them if there was an emergency. They would always threaten to check my phone and I kept their warning in mind, but they never did. At this time, I started engaging in online gaming communities, and I found a community. Things changed when I started to get close with a man. He began acting inappropriately, assuming I was an adult since I hadn't revealed any personal information. Thankfully I was smart and cut it off, by uninstalling the app. 

This was all well and good up until tenth grade, where I really got to start learning about the real me. The real Leah.