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Labels

Do they really matter?

Growing up, I didn't know I liked girls. I would look at someone who was gorgeous and just appreciate that. Never did I think to myself, "wow, that girl is so hot." And to be honest, I'm not sure when the thoughts evolved to that. 

I just knew one day, sitting on my phone—a regular occurrence—I scrolled past this girl who had such a pretty smile and kind eyes. After following each other, she DM'd me first. To say I was in shock would be an understatement... maybe not the understatement of the year but I would say of at least the month. After chatting back and forth, she started to flirt.

Now, I am an awkward person. I like to keep to myself, my nose in a book, or my hands on a keyboard. The fact that another human being was flirting with me was a miracle in of itself. But the more I thought about it... I did like her. 

Ever since Obama's microphone dropping speech after gay marriage was legalized, the words "love is love" has been everywhere. When I went to pride with my friends, before I had become aware of my own feelings, I saw it plastered on t-shirts, bandannas, and even socks. Yet, the more me and this girl talked on Instagram, the more I couldn't help but think of this quote.

If "love is love," why does sexuality matter? Why does labeling ourselves and the others in our society truly matter? The conclusion I came up with is: it doesn't. Love is a lot of things; complicated, weird, awkward, and wonderful, but label-worthy isn't the first thing to come to mind.

This girl and I decided to set up a date for a dinner and a movie, which was great and exciting. However, it now meant I should probably tell my mom and family. I ended up texting my best friend, who came out years ago, asking for advice. To quote, the text read, "Hi. How do I casually bring up to my mom and everyone that I'm not straight anymore?" And usually, this friend is the first person in my recently texted. Yet, this time, the most recent one was my mom. 

After a very brief and calming talk, she told me that she still loved me. Of course, she wished she had found out in a more gentle way, but what's done is done. My sister went to automatically thinking that I was a lesbian and how she wouldn't have to worry about buying condoms for me anymore. To my Southern family? There's not much else I can do besides literally claiming myself as Lucifer himself. Not only am I now in the LGBTQ+ community, I am also an atheist who was born out of wedlock. It can't get much worse for me with them unless I look at the Ten Commandments as a To-Do list.

But anyway, I think labels are honestly the stupidest thing our society has done. However, we're so used to it that I really don't think there's much coming back. I kind of just wanted to put my story out there for anyone else who might think the same or be going through a similar situation. The best advice I can give is to: just be yourself and please always check who you're texting.