They say that the best pieces of writing, or art in general, come when you bare your soul. When you look inside the deepest, darkest part of you and… bleed.

Fear, anger, worry. That’s what I find. But I don’t want to look there. I want to stay in my cacoon of positivity. I am an optimist and a dreamer. But I am also a coward when it comes to confrontation. When it comes to one on one conversations, I am not an expert. Especially with new people. So, if we met recently, don’t expect me to great you first, make eye contact or be… graceful. I am in the middle of the spectrum—every spectrum.

Where do the negative emotions come from. I would love to say they come from society. Because of it’s unaccepting bullshit, but I’m not really sure about that. All I know is that sometimes I feel the need to just escape. Run.

Do you know why I can’t wait to go to the UK every summer? Away from my parents, from school, my class teacher, Bulgaria?… It’s because I can be myself and no one cares! Believe it or not (if you are Bulgarian, you probably don’t believe it), nobody has ever judged me based on where I am from. When I say I’m from Bulgaria, they are actually intrigued, because it seems like an exotic country. They don’t judge me based on anything, but the way I act and speak. And that is how it is supposed to be. I can walk on the street with a T-shirt that says: “Hi, I’m bi!” and it won’t matter. Someone might even like it. They’d be like: “Right on!” or “Me too!”?—?high five. Different is in and thanks to that, people area out.

Well, people that are not me. Because I’m still in. For the most part that is. Sometimes people know, sometimes they guess, other times I tell them, usually I don’t really care. I am never going to consider myself out, until I tell my parents. I don’t know when to tell them, and I most certainly don’t know how. Do I have a serious talk? Do I just insert it into a casual conversation?

“How was your day?”

“Alright, I got an ‘A’ in English, also I like girls. I like boys too, though!”

Maybe I should do as my brother and just write them a letter… Should I want until I’m independent, so I don’t have to bear any consequences for being myself? They might be one of those people that think I’m a different person when I’m out, so they won’t trust me. Then, I will get no alone time. I’ll have to say goodbye to the weekends without my parents, alone, enjoying the silence. Parents are a full time job!

Maybe I should just send them Girls/Girls/Boys by Panic at the disco and say that I confirm the things sang below. I could write them a poem? Maybe I should write my own song:

Dad, I know you think it’s a choice, but I need to you to hear my voice

When I say: hi, I’m bi and I’m still me—

I don’t know what you think but by your face I can tell you don’t understand

Cause I forgot you don’t speak English.

Yeah…

These questions and many more are constantly occupying my thoughts. Thus, the reason why I can’t stay concentrated on the same thing for a long time. Also, why I am always writing. I mean, I have to ask someone! My friends will just say it’s ok, which won’t really mean anything. My brother will say that I am underestimating my father, while I think he is overestimating him. In the end I’ll just be alone again, with my thoughts, and a laptop. Writing it all down, hesitantly moving my mouse away from the share button. Because I am afraid and worried. But I am also angry.

I am angry, because some of the scariest words a person can hear are?—?coming out. No one wants to be on either side of that conversation. The whole situation is so awkward! One person shares a very important part of who they are, while the other sits awkwardly, usually not knowing what to say. Unless, of course, they are not a supporter, then they just act like a jerk.

I wish everyone had to come out. We should all have time to decide how we identify ourselves. That way the conversations will turn into something normal. Coming out wouldn’t be such a big deal.

You’re gay, it’s ok

Lesbian—you’re no DICKensian

You are, bi, have some pie.

Trans, as long as you’re happy with your pants.

Queer—have a beer.

There are more—and we’re all for!

Can’t people just accept that some of us are queer?! Hi, I’m bi, so what?