Personal Narrative: I M Gay

From an early age, my mother told me what it was she believed about me; I was creative, I was beautiful, I was intelligent, and I was most definitely not gay. The last one always stuck out from the others, but I never questioned it as a child.

“y/n please that can't be the only thing you feel i know you love me.” peter stopped and stepped forward. I took a step back but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him and kissed me.

My intent was to not flaunt it, but I wanted to be open and truthful fully with my friends and family. It is very hard to come to terms about this huge decision. I remember on a hot and humid Monday morning I decided to tell my best friend. The air was fresh with a small hint of blooming flowers. I pulled up to my friends house in my car, and she was waiting outside on the front-step. I remember the bird were chirping, and there were many lingering sounds of bugs in the distance. I got out of my car and I could sense the feeling of eagerness. With the help of my gut I finally spit out the words to her that I was gay, and she accepted me whole-heartedly. The feeling felt so amazing, like thousands of butterflies escaped m stomach at once. The reason why I was very scared to tell her was because I thought she was against the whole ordeal of being gay. I feel like overcoming that fear of losing a best friend is just a hard decision because you want to be real and upfront with them. With this certain situation I felt like a triumph that I made was conquering my worst fear of not being fully honest with a person. I hate having white lies and making up certain parts of a story to impress someone. Having this mindset led me to achieve the ultimate goal of coming out to

“Me neither, Bellamy. I never stopped loving you.” With that, Bellamy came over to you and placed his hands on your chin, bringing your lips towards his and smashing his lips hungrily with

He’s admired me since we were in Level Three. Plus, since he’s two years older than everyone else so he’d always been bigger and more intimidating and poor me became his the victim of his affection. He was really sweet for the first few weeks. I was probably only twelve and while I am tall for my age, I weighed little to nothing, and he always stood taller. He’d help me reach for books in the library, he’d offer to carry my things, and then things slowly got worse. He’d grab ahold of my hand or wrist and pull me along, no matter how hard I fought. He’d stalk me as I’d walk home, and on the last day of school everyone was invited to the big bonfire that was being held. Of course I went. I might not have been a social butterfly, but bonfires were rare, and I was obsessed with the

Currently, I am in the process of not only becoming comfortable in my identity, a black queer woman, but, also attempting to find solace in my identity as well. Something that all women, especially black queer women, should achieve in their lifetime. It is that dream that inspires me to travel to experience other cultures and to unite with women from various cultures across the black diaspora. Throughout many cultures, women’s identities are defined by their male counterparts and the labor they provide to them. Therefore, a major goal of mine is to create a space where women are able to exist outside the scope of their relationships with men and live uninhibitedly to become their best selves. That is why I find it pertinent to travel not only

I am (F/N) (L/N). I go to Harry Herpson Community College. I’m Majoring in astronomy, the study of space, stars, and outer space planets. I’m really big on the whole interdimensional space beings and such. But currently my studies are at a hult because of some dumbass, who decided to drag me along on one of their motherfucking adventure. How did this happen? Well that would have to be first moment I fucking met Rick MOTHERFUCKING Sanchez!

I am mixed. Mixed [black/white] people can look mixed, they can look white, they can look black. Although it may make a lot of sense, you cannot always determine a person's race solely off of skin color. When people assume I am fully white it is the same thing as telling me "the entire other portion of your race doesn't exist nor does it matter." I want the other half of me to be recognized. It may not be prominent physically, but that does not make me any less mixed than any other mixed person. There are a lot of slurs and stereotypes directed at people like me: Oreo, the blackest white person/whitest black person (not exclusive to mixed people), mutt, calf, zebra,

Discovering my sexual orientation was not really a surprise. I always knew, however, the idea that I was considered abnormal was what pushed me back the most. My faith and my parents always taught me it was wrong to like the same sex, and that made me afraid to come out. It made me frightened and anxious to think I wasn’t the child people thought I would be, and how it would affect me in the future. I thought I was a disappointment and I, myself, was a human sin.

You and Jimin had been dating five months to the day and things were beginning to get frustrating for you. It wasn't that you weren't, it wasn't that at all. It was the fact that in those six months you and Jimin had never done anything more than make-out. At first, you thought it was just because he was shy, that he wanted to wait until he was comfortable enough but each time you thought your intense make-out session was leading somewhere he'd cut your short, moving you off of his lap and making up some excuse that he had to work early in the morning or that he was too tired and would prefer to just 'cuddle'. Even though he would get hard during that said make-out session you couldn't help but think he didn't want you in that way. Was he repulsed

When I walk into his closet, I immediately smell the dust of moon rocks and soil, and hear the recording of a space mission going on in the background. I start to feel around the smooth walls of the closet, occasionally coming across bumps here and there. I realize that the bumps are glow-in-the-dark and they are star-shaped. I observe that they are all over the ceiling too, making it look like a starry night. I notice an old, American space suit and helmet hanging off the wall. Also, I see a U.S. Navy Officer uniform with a Korean War patch on it. I walk up to a rather small chest, and open it. I see folded certificates of graduation from Purdue University and the University of Southern California. In addition, I see countless awards and

Molasses began to flow through my veins as my fingers attempted to type the seven character message that would permanently alter my life. I predicted her reaction would be one of acceptance and support, but in my mind, a secure future was replacing itself with one of uncertainty and confusion. Reluctantly, I managed to tap my phone enough times to spell out and send the text message, “I’m gay”. Ignoring the lead manifesting in my stomach, I released a sigh of relief as my brief admission to my best friend ushered in an influx of love and respect. Over the past few years, I’ve learned that being gay is not a source of embarrassment or shame, but rather, an opportunity to establish compromise and respect between people of different values.

In the first telling of my personal narrative, I did not consider including what had led me to a point where I began to embrace my identities and become proud of my heritage as Korean. There were many factors that led me to be who I am today. The reason for leaving out the information was because there were so many people and occurrences that led me to the point where I am now. For example, moving to different elementary school where there were more diverse body of students, annually performing at the Mosaic in the Korean pavilion, my parents being a positive role model, and becoming a volunteer teacher at the Korean Language School are some of the reasons which have led me to be who I am today. As I was surrounded by people who were interested

Growing up everyone is told that they are unique. “Be yourself,” “use your God-given talent,” and other expressions such as these impress the aforementioned narrative into our minds. Thus, when I was around thirteen years old, I thought my sexuality was just a part of me that only I had. I wanted to share this feature about myself; I wanted to take pride in it and show it off. Coming out to a close few friends showed positive and emotional responses. Riding on this high, I was ready to embrace myself in high school. Yet, my naivety took the best of me as I was going to an all male, religious high school. My sexuality has provided me with experiences that have and will continue to shape my life. These struggles, whether they are internal or external, have provided me with invaluable skills.

What started with the intent to be nothing more than a peck soon became a total makeout session. By the time he’d carried me to the bedroom, we were both rock hard and full of desire. Before letting myself sleep, we got intimate.