By E. Jade Enos
I was five years old, sitting in my flowery pink car seat in our old Honda Pilot. I asked you if girls could marry girls because if so, I wanted to marry my playgroup friend when I grew up. You angrily told me that girls can only marry boys. I didn’t understand why.
I was 10 years old when your sister married a woman. I remember how conflicted you felt; an old book told you it was wrong but you wanted to be there to see your sinful sister. You were a bridesmaid. Dad refused to be in the wedding at all, and he was silent sitting in the audience next to me. I didn’t understand why.
I was 12 years old when I first had a crush on a girl, and I knew I couldn’t tell you. She was beautiful, and so kind. I couldn’t risk her getting hurt by telling you about it. You would be angry. I didn’t understand why.
I was 14 years old when I told you I was bisexual. I was crying on my bed and just blurted it out after you demanded to know what my sister and I were fighting about. You stood there for a moment, in shock I think. You left the room. I didn’t understand why.
I was still 14 when you came to me the next day and told me I should just repress it. “Ignore the urges,” as you put it. You said you were also tempted, in college, but you shoved it down. I didn’t understand why.
I was 15 when I had my first girlfriend. We kissed in the cabin at our youth group’s winter camp. We hid under the stairs in the hallways at church to make out. She taught me how to eat honeysuckle, the sweetness lingering on my lips long after our last kiss. I wanted so badly to tell you how happy that girl made me, but I knew you would be mad. I didn’t understand why.
I am 21 and we don’t talk anymore. I feel more free than I ever have before, but I will always carry this sadness in me. You were always so angry. I wish I knew why.
E. Jade Enos resides in the woods of New York in the U.S., accompanied by their partner, three cats, and two little gremlin children. When not writing, you can find them in the dark recesses of the local library, reading books in the reference section for fun.