I hate Lorenzo so much, you guys. For all the reasons I’ve said before, but also because of how Lorenzo is supposed to make Alison nice. A nice girl. A real sweet nice girl seeking redemption. Alison is not a nice girl, though. And what I want is to see the reasons why she’s not a nice girl. All that shit she did, blinding Jenna and blackmailing Toby and shaming Paige into the closet and giving Hanna an eating disorder, all of it, she did it for a reason. Part of it was selfish and part of it was noble and but most of it was an indistinguishable mash-up of both of those things, good guy stuff and bad guy stuff braided together in a cacophony of greyness. Alison is a bitch. Bitches get stuff done. Bitches keep themselves and their friends as safe as they can in a hard, dark world. If you want Alison DiLaurentis to be a nice girl, you don’t deserve to even look at her. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you know how Mike loves Mona? That’s the kind of relationship Ali needs in her life. (For example, the way Emily has always loved her.)
Don’t put so much pressure on yourself? It’s like, obviously different for every human, but it’s all about feeling good and IT IS SO HARD TO FEEL GOOD WHEN YOU’RE MAKING YOURSELF FEEL AWFUL.
Just know that there is no reason to pick a label, there is nothing to announce, there is no right or wrong way to do anything, there is no timeline, there is no box you have to jump into. What you’re doing right now, asking questions, is THE BEST PART. Right now you’re sitting at home thinking, “oh fuck, i do not align with the way society is trying to force me to align, what do i really want?” Since you haven’t figured out what you really want in life, you’re asking us. You want us to tell you, “do u think boobs are cool? OKAY YOU’RE GAY” but it’s not that simple. There is no question and answer guide. The figuring out part is the best part.
Take your time. If you’re finding out that you happen to be attracted to all different types of people, GO ON DATES WITH THEM ALL. Don’t hold yourself back from going out with someone just because you haven’t previously announced yourself as someone who dates a type of person… well… that’s a bad reason is all i’m saying.
You don’t come out to yourself. You slowly but surely figure out the things you want in life. You feel more and more comfortable going against everything people are trying to force you to feel. You’re starting to feel good. You’re FINALLY just STARTING to feel really, really good. Allow yourself the time. You’re doing everything right.
Kristin Says:
Everything Dannielle said, plus this:
When I was fourteen I had a huge crush on a girl but I assumed I just wanted to be her best friend REALLY BADLY.
When I was sixteen I kissed a girl on a dare and I called all my friends to tell them I hated it, so turns out I am straight! Hooray for me!
When I was seventeen I kissed a girl not on a dare and my stomach fell out of my body and I had no idea wtf to do. I came out to my parents as bisexual.
When I was eighteen no one understood what I meant when I said bisexual so I came out again as a lesbian, panicking over the next several years anytime I found a guy attractive and being as gay as I could possibly be.
When I was twenty-six I started actually allowing myself to explore who I was, letting myself have feelings instead of policing myself, and also reading a whole bunch about what it could mean to be queer. Oh, and I learned the word “queer.”
When I was thirty-three I realized I’d abandoned an identity back when I was eighteen for all the wrong reasons.
Now I say I am queer, I say I am bisexual, I say I am gay, and I say it doesn’t matter what I say… because I am me and you’re all you and what I like and how I name it might just go on changing forever.
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I wanted a place where we could cleanse our spirits and talk about what was going on in our lives without having to add the caveats of “I know it sounds crazy” or “Does that make sense?” It would. It would make all the sense. I suspected the isolation was what made us ask these questions, and if we all came together and spoke up, we could grow strong. Like, when the Power Rangers become MegaMorph. (This is a very relatable reference.)
I love having approximately 3.5 tons of curly brown hair. While other queer girls are perfecting their quiffs and fauxhawks, my incidental butchness is coiled up in my long hair. The curls are a paternal trait; they connect me to the generations of burly Cuban laborers and display my ancestry more than my skin color ever will. My relationship with my hair is comparable to that of Samson, the guy whose superhuman strength was attributed to his long hair. Like him, the longer my hair is, the happier and healthier I seem to be. - Fonseca
