Surprisingly, I can produce some words past the lump
in my throat and the fear rooted in my chest like an ancient
redwood. “I’ve never told anyone. Remember what I said
about my parents being really conservative?”
Adley nods.
“I think they’d be angry. They wouldn’t like it. They’d
tell me it was a phase. That I don’t know my own mind.
They’d want me to keep it to myself. They’d ask me why I
couldn’t just try to be normal. They’re not mean and I don’t
think they’d stop loving me or anything. I know they wouldn’t
cut me off or want me out of the family. I just think that they
wouldn’t get it. And I’d always feel like an outsider. I knew
when I was thirteen or fourteen. I pretended I didn’t. That it
was just hormones. In college, there were a few times I may
have flirted with the idea of being with a woman, even shared
a kiss or two, but…I was drunk. I told myself it was just the
alcohol. That it wasn’t really me. That even though it felt right
and I felt free, and I felt like I could be me, that it was just
experimenting, and experiments can be thrilling, in science or
otherwise, and that’s what it was. I dated guys. I had
relationships with men. I slept with men. I wanted to make it
work. I wanted to get married to a man and have children with
a man and be like everyone else. The person everyone thinks I
am. I was afraid that if people knew, they’d be different. That
I’d lose my friends. That I might even lose my job.”
“I don’t think a place can fire you for something like
that. It would look extremely bad, but there are also laws that
protect people now.”
“I-I know.” I can’t look at Adley. I might not be the