I never understood why my ability

to carry love in my heart for another

woman made me intolerable.  

 

But what I can understand is the

ignominy seeping into my skin whenever 

someone alludes to homosexuality being vile. 

 

I understand the devastation of 

pure loathing from a hypocritical crowd 

that raised me on the notion of “being myself.” 

 

I understand that coming out is never truly over

in a universe where straight is the human default.

It’s perpetual. It’s being sixteen and proud of your

courage to tell your family, only to realize the majority

of people you are bound to meet throughout your walk 

in life will habitually assume you only like men.  

 

I understand how a decade of my life passed by before gay marriage was legalized. 

I recall watching Glee and my soul pining when Santana and Brittany had to push 

their wedding out of state borders, because at the time, Ohio prohibited their marriage. 

 

It’s as if their earnest love for each other wasn’t actually love

in the willingly-ignorant eyes of hatred. 

 

I understand it all,

and deeply yearn I didn’t have to. 

 

Often, I fathom a reality where everything is different;

One where queer people are seen as people. 

Where Santana and Brittany never faced prejudice to begin with. 

Where I don’t have to actively seek for representation

in the media, just to feel less out of place in life. 

In this reality, I can tell people I’m bisexual the way I tell people my name. 

 

But I understand that’s not always true. 

There are a lot of things I cannot control.

The list is colossal. 

 

But what I can control is not letting myself 

dissolve into a reality where I fabricate my identity. 

I’ll stop bargaining authentication for the majority’s comfort. 

I’ll celebrate queer joy and solidarity. 

I’ll give speeches at my gay friends’ weddings,

as I remember how it’s our community’s persistent love 

that pushes through storms everyday. 

 

It’s the bravery we have to admit to ourselves who we are, and to keep on

existing as we are, no matter how gargantuan the presence of opposition is. 

 

So I sit here in solace, 

knowing if Santana and Brittany were real,

they’d be living happily together at this very moment;

Just like the millions of queer people 

who’ve learned to grow love from darkness.

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Maggie Kaprielian (she/her) is a seventeen year old from Maryland. She is an editor in chief for the Erewhon Literary Arts Magazine and president of Potomac’s chapter of the Maryland Teen Writers Association. She attended Susquehanna University's Summer Poetry Workshops in 2021 and 2022.