When my 18 year old brother Carter told my parents he didn’t want to go to college and he was gonna focus on music, they kicked him out. When my 17 year old sister Cassadee came home and confessed that she was pregnant, my parents didn’t talk to her for the whole nine months. Saying they don’t understand is an understatement, and this frightened me to death. I always knew I was different. I was 16 at the time. Young, innocent….confused mostly, or I thought I was, until one day. All the feelings came flooding in like a tidal wave crashing against my body. Reassurance, excitement, fears; everything just hitting all at once. I waited a few months before I decided it was time I told my parents.

I ran from the old brick high school building through the cold, wet rain. As I reached my 1995 Honda Accord, I quickly hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The streets were beginning to flood and it was difficult to maneuver through them. This at least gave me more time to think of what I was going to say. My brain was clogged with the image of my brother leaving the house with the few belongings he owned. I couldn’t help picturing myself in that position. Before I headed home I detoured to my best friend Mike’s house. I took a left turn down his long dirt driveway and drove slowly as my car bounced off of each pebble it went over. I walked up his cement steps and rang the doorbell. He opened the door with a happy, confused grin on his face. Without even questioning my reasoning for being there, he told me to come right in. Luckily for me, he was the only one around, so we could talk in private. He took it much better than I expected, accepting me for who I am without me needing to explain myself. I nervously asked him how I should take on my parents. In a reassuring voice Mike said “Your parents love you and they will, no matter what decisions you make, you can’t do any wrong”. With these words floating in my mind, I drove back down the long dirt driveway that was now covered in muddy puddles, and headed towards my destination.

The drive was short and soon I was pulled along the curb outside the light blue split house that I grew up in. With a slight hesitation, I slid the keys out of the ignition and popped open the car door. It was still drizzling and was now almost dark. After talking with Mike, I had a slightly better idea of how this conversation was going to happen and I walked straight into the house. The front door opened into the living room and my father sat on the corner of our tan leather couch. My mom was still at work, so this was going to be a one on one with my father, which made my stomach turn. As I walked into the house my father greeted me “Where you been all day?” Without answering his question I sat down on the couch opposite him and began.
“Dad, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about um…myself and uh, who I am. I’ve been confused about my feelings and the thoughts that run through my mind every day. In the past few months I haven’t been able to…get these thoughts to leave my mind.” I stopped, trying to think of how to say these words, but before I could my dad jumped in.
“I know,” he whispered.
“You know?” I replied in a shocking tone.
“And I love you, no matter what.”
“But…what about Carter…And Cassadee?”
“Well, when I realized, that my kids haven’t made a mistake, but I have, I called them both. I apologized, for everything, and told them I loved them.”
I sat back in a relieved yet shocked way. He walked over and wrapped his large muscular arms around me and held on so tightly. The warmth of his body is a sensation I haven’t felt in a while, and I missed it. He released, smiled, and walked away. I sank into the cushions, my heart still beating uncontrollably. This was a feeling better than I could have imagined. The feeling of being accepted and loved for being me is one I never want to lose, and I hope I never do.