lgbtq

Non-nuclear is the new normal; millions of children belong to happy families with lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender parents.

What It Is Like Having a Gay Activist Uncle
My uncle is my inspiration for being a part of the LGBTQ community because he conducts himself with dignity, and if he knows you feel a certain way about a subject, he discusses it with you instead of tensing up and getting defensive. He is what I aspire to be daily when I try to have conversation with someone. He currently is in and out of Ireland conducting research and trying to promote the LGBTQ community as best as he can.
By May Bainter8 years ago in Families
Fickle Fifteen
The day was scorching, just like the day before it. The air always feels hotter in the Dominican Republic for some reason. My mom bought my flight the day before, assuring me that my school work would be fine, that the trip would only be for a few days, and that I had to go say my final goodbyes to my great-grandma, who by the way was more alive than ever staring at me from across the table. I tried to find a way to address the elephant in the room; the fact that it's the middle of the school week, my grandma isn't dying, and yet here I am. I hear the phone ring and thank God for the break in the tension. It's for me. I race over to the phone hoping someone was going to let me in on the big secret soon; nobody has explained anything to me since I got off the plane.
By Cristal Hernandez8 years ago in Families
Coming Out
My coming out story happened in two stages, and the second stage is still happening. The first stage was coming out to myself, which was very difficult. I didn’t grow up in a horrible environment, but I didn’t grow up in the most supportive environment either. I was shielded from just about everything related to the LGBTQIA+ community. I can even remember my mom getting frustrated when she saw Ellen DeGeneres on TV and made me turn the channel. During my freshman year in high school, people told me not to hang out with certain people because they were gay. As it turns out, the person that they warned me to not hang around with is straight, and I am the one that is a lesbian. All I knew at that point was that being gay was not okay. Not at home, not at school, and not at church. Once I reached my senior year of high school, the constant suppression finally broke me. I tried so hard to be straight, I prayed every night that I would like boys instead of girls. But, I eventually started praying that I wouldn’t wake up the next day. I literally cried myself to sleep every single night. I was very depressed, suicidal, and even started drinking alcohol secretly. For the last half of the school year, I skipped breakfast because I felt nauseous. I ate my lunch in the school bathroom because I didn’t want to be around other people. Then, I would sit in class and think about the best place that I could crash my truck on the way home so that I would die, but not hurt any other drivers. I would cry the whole way home, then when I got home, I would drink alcohol until I felt numb. There were a few times where I got the gun out of my parents’ closet, but I luckily never committed suicide. In those moments, I thought that my parents would rather have a dead child than a gay child.
By Emily M8 years ago in Families
Out of the Closet
The most common [negative] LGBT narrative for coming out to one's family is that of the parents just utterly disowning their child. Calling them sinful fags, or other hurtful words, and I always sort of imagined a burly football-loving dad literally picking their gay, lesbian, trans, or bi child up by the scruff of their shirt and tossing them out the door.
By Ian Hazelton8 years ago in Families
The Day I Lost My Son
The day I lost my son was like any other day. I woke up at god awful in the morning and made coffee. My husband came down and we made breakfast while waiting for the kiddo to come down stairs. I remember sitting there, reading random fluff on the internet via my phone, with occasional sips of coffee. The next thing I knew, my child was curled up in my lap, trembling against my chest.
By Kelley Pace8 years ago in Families
Spiritual Trauma
When I was a child, I had some traumatic experiences, like 99% of the world. Mine wasn't sexual, or physical or mental. Well, a bit of it was mental and emotional, but it was spiritual too.
By Nikolas Lopez8 years ago in Families