My Journey So Far, and Self Acceptance

By Madisen Bennett

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Self-portrait Photograph by Daija Guy

Names have been changed for privacy purposes. 

My best friend Daan and I were getting ready to leave for college. I had received a full tuition scholarship and was set to start in honors. From the outside, it seemed my life was just beginning, brimming with potential. On the inside, I was miserable. On the verge of burnout, life felt pointless. I hated myself. I hated myself for everything I wasn’t and for everything I was. I hoped that moving away from home would help me.

That summer, my parents started to worry about my relationship with Daan. They felt we were spending an unhealthy amount of time together. They accused me of being a lesbian and said I had been hiding our romantic relationship. I honestly confided that none of that was true. I had been taught my entire life that being gay was a sin, and the accusation stung. Especially since my parents still seemed unconvinced. My mom and dad began holding regular interventions. These one-sided interrogations became a great stress in my life.

I had never thought of Daan as more than a friend, I had never thought of any girl as more than a friend. Until now, there had never been a need for me to question what I knew to be true; I liked men. However, this constant confrontation made me wonder if I was missing something. I doubted that my conservative parents wanted their daughter to secretly be a lesbian. So, why did they seem so sure that there was more to my relationship with Daan than met the eye? Maybe they were right, and that sent me spiraling. I didn’t want to be gay, but I was pretty sure I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Confiding in Daan wasn’t an option. There’s no easy way to tell your best friend “hey, I’m struggling with my sexuality, and I think I’m in love with you.” I didn’t want to risk my feelings being unrequited, or worse, losing my only friend. My mom and I were normally so close, but I couldn’t find solace in her either. After the numerous times I had reassured my parents, I wasn’t gay, I couldn’t just go back and say “actually, you’re right, I am in love with Daan, and I’m not sure what to do about it.” I had never felt so alone.

August 2018

I own just a portion of my heart
The rest went missing along the way
It still beats, thudding along
Even if it’s sad most the day
I’m never sure of what I’m doing
Only that I don’t want to be here
I just wish things were different
Nothing ever changing is my greatest fear

I decided to try and ignore my feelings in the hopes that they would go away. I figured that once I’d left for college, I could prove to my parents that they didn’t need to worry. I would focus on school, go to church, and everything would go back to normal. Despite my foolproof plan, it was hard to ignore the nagging questions in my head. I started to write poetry, hoping that by getting my feelings out on paper, they would be easier to ignore.

Surprisingly, everything did not fall into place when college started. As soon as Daan and I had moved into our dorms, we began spending more time together than ever. Any time I wasn’t with her, I was debating whether it was a terrible idea to tell her that I was in love with her. I even drafted love letters, hoping I would work up the courage to give one to her, but I never did.

One Wednesday night, I came home to her after a long and exhausting day, and I broke down. There was no room for words between my sobs, but Daan did her best to comfort me. For some reason, in her attempt to help, she mumbled the words, “I used to have the biggest crush on you.” It was my chance, I had to speak up. So, with all the courage I could muster I told her, “I think I like you too.”

What came after that is much what you’d expect, kisses, dates, and arguably too much time together. However, our secret escapades were short lived. After just a few weeks together, Daan’s parents confronted her about our relationship. She admitted that we were dating. In less than a day, Daan found herself estranged from her family, who had threatened to out me to my parents. I wanted to believe my family would be supportive, but I had to be the one to tell them. So, I found an empty conference room on my way out of class that day, and I called my mom. I do not remember most of our conversation. All I can recall is her denying my feelings. She believed I had been manipulated by Daan.

October 2018

How can you miss something that’s still yours,
Something that has yet to go away?
Perhaps it's feeling deep down inside
That you know it will never be the same

 Late that night, Daan got a phone call from her dad. He told her he had over reacted, and he apologized for everything he had said earlier that day. Almost immediately following this phone call, I broke up with Daan. I am not proud of that. My mother’s opinion has always been important to me, and our conversation had struck me to my core. I had admitted my feelings for Daan, but I wasn’t ready to accept what that meant for me. What did I know about love? I was embarrassed, and worried I’d made an irreversible mistake.

A few days after coming out to my mom, she asked how I was feeling. She wanted to know if I thought I was still in love with Daan. I took that opportunity to crawl back into the closet I had lived in for eighteen years. Daan and I dated off and on for about two years after that. I came to recognize my bisexuality, but only spoke of it when asked directly, and always in hushed tones. I told myself that my sexuality was the least important thing about me. With that logic, nobody needed to know about it.

The people in my life had a lot to say about my choices. Daan felt I was being inauthentic, constantly telling me what I needed to do in order for my bisexuality to be validated. My mother on the other hand wanted me to get away from all my bad influences. To her, I no longer seemed capable of separating myself from Daan. I was being pulled in two opposite directions by the people I loved most. I wanted to give everyone what they wanted, and I tried.

This led to months of making out with Daan in dark corners of the church building, always for the last time, right before going to repent of my sins. Most Sundays I would skip the last half of church to go on dates with her. The constant back and forth was exhausting. I lost sight of myself and was drifting away from what was actually important to me. I knew I needed to leave.

5,000 miles later, I couldn’t be happier. My mother was ecstatic when I broke the news to her that I was leaving; Daan was not. The more experiences I had, and the more friends I made, the angrier Daan became. As I fell in love with my freedom, I found myself less willing to compromise with the quality of the people around me. For many reasons, Daan and I decided to part ways. We both deserved better.

May 2021

I wish that you could see me now
And how our life has turned out
Our dreams reimagined, and put into action
I think that you would be proud
And I may not know where I’m going
But I know how I want to feel
I’ve learned some things the hard way
Give yourself space to heal
So often life turns out to be
So much more than you thought
Don't give up, not yet
I’ve found the love you want

Daan and I broke up shortly before I moved back home. It’s been seven months since we last talked. After coming home, I came out to my sister who is now my biggest supporter. I also came out to my mom, again. Despite her uncertainty of my feelings, our tearful conversation actually included my perspective. It ended with her telling me she loved me, no matter what. I am privileged to hope for my parent’s eventual acceptance, but I realize now that I don’t need it.