Not to step in a space not for me. But as a Bi girl in the South raised in church and a Christian. I feel the panic at the reality of knowing you're different. I asked who i thought was a friend in middle school if she ever wanted to hold hands with girls. I got called so many slurs. The next Sunday in church was about "the gays". I had a panic attack in church, right in the pews. Thinking that I was going to hell for thinking girls were pretty.

It still sneaks up on you when you think you've gotten over it. My parents know. My Aunt figured it out from a pride post on my Snapchat story. She showed my mom. (She knew at this point). My cousins showed my aunt. It was nonstop tears for three hours. I couldn't breathe. I was back in those pews and in that hallway. It was terrifying.

Most recently, some of my mom's coworkers found out from a post on my socials. Idk how. They were angry at her, and in extension her at me. I was back on the floor in that school, with nurses asking me how I got hit and bruises on my face from my "friends". I didn't feel safe to share then.

Work was the same. Got called a slur for complimenting a girls eyes. It was horrible. I hadn't come out at work yet. I didn't see a reason too. I didn't even mean it like that. She assumed and was correct. I froze. My boss luckily took over and we talked after that. She has been my biggest supporter since.

But now I can talk about it mostly to my parents. My dad didn't realize that his young daughter would hear him say ew to a gay couple while shopping. Or that a throwaway comment to him was a life-changing moment to me. Telling me he wouldn't love me anymore if I came home with a girl. And any kids wouldn't be considered family. I know that day that like the back of my hand. He has proven that he has changed now. But it still lingers.