goodbi-luv:

I knew at 11,

when the high school choir came to sing for my school

and all my friends were talking about the cute older boys,

but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the blonde girl wearing black suspenders.

I knew at 13,

when the idea of kissing my first boyfriend didn’t just make me nervous,

but also made me feel a bit uncomfortable.

We never did kiss.

I knew at 16,

when in the middle of losing my virginity I began to cry

and my boyfriend didn’t stop,

regardless of my tears.

I knew every time I slept with a man

and he’d get frustrated,

because I wouldn’t wrap my mouth around his manhood.

I knew at 18,

when my college of choice suddenly seemed like a trap

because of it’s small town location

and overwhelming high school vibe.

I think my friends suspected

every time I went on one of my “feminist” rants

or talked about how aesthetically pleasing women are.

I knew at 22,

when directly after getting engaged,

my fiancé and I began to spend the majority of our time fighting

and I suddenly realized it couldn’t be fixed.

I knew at 22,

when I came out

and each time I told a new person,

I felt just a little more liberated.

I knew at 22,

when I went to the local gay bar

and got giddy because

a pretty girl asked for my number.

I always knew…