What do you think when you hear the word “gay?” Do you think that the people who are being described by this word are weird, bad, and just different? Do you think that this one word is the only thing that defines someone? Well, that’s what I used to think too. When I was younger, other kids had told me that “gay” was a very bad word. I had never even really understood what it meant, but I just knew that it was something you did not want to be. I had always known that my grandparents got divorced long before I was born and that my grandmother lived with a wonderful woman whom she loved very much. I just never knew it was in that way. As I got older I began to get confused. At the age of about eight, I would ask my mom why they lived together and why they would kiss each other on the cheek and say, “I love you” before bed just like my parents did. But they couldn’t love each other liked my parents did, could they? How could that be possible? In every book, movie, or story I had ever heard of there had always been a princess and a prince, a damsel in distress and a handsome hero, a woman and a man. I had never witnessed anything different. When I would discuss this with my mom she would often reply that, “There isn’t anything complex or weird about it, it’s just love and that’s that.” I then realized that my mom was right. In fact, it is that same exact love that the princesses and the princes feel for each other, or the love that the damsels and the handsome heroes share. It’s just not in the package that we usually see it in. So, whenever I get that funny look that some people give me when I say my “grandmas,” or when I see people stare when they hold hands on the street, I don’t care. Their disapproval can’t change the fact that they love each other, and, in the words of my mother, “that’s that.”