There is so much I want to say to you, that I don’t even know where to begin. I suppose to start it all off, I want to apologize. No, I have to apologize, for treating you so harshly in the past. You absolutely did not deserve all the hate and anger that I put on you.
You have always been a romantic at heart: the kind of girl who so desperately wants to love and be loved in that grand, all-encompassing type of way. Love has always been a major driving force in your life. I remember how happy you were as a kid before the judgement of others began to truly affect you. But I presume that I was always your number one critic, which I will always regret.
I remember in middle school when you finally deduced that you weren’t just attracted to men. It wasn’t like it was this shocking revelation of any sort, I suppose you always sort of subconsciously knew that you could fall in love with a woman. I just wish you didn’t listen to me, that part of you that was so terrified of facing even more prejudice; that part of you that forced you to hide such an important aspect of yourself for so long, never totally allowing you to be happy.
It was like your spark slowly began to fade out. Each day that passed, each moment that I forced you to suppress your desire to be yourself (your absolutely lovely, wonderful self), it felt like you were slowly drowning. It was like you forgot how to breathe.
You desperately searched for that breath of air by consistently dating men. You went from guy to guy without a break, trying so hard to find that love you so desperately craved; the love that I wouldn’t give to you. When you were treated poorly in the past, your base reaction was to simply accept it as a part of your life. I mean, how could you expect anyone else to love and accept you properly if you weren’t even able to love and accept yourself?
You buried yourself in this false reality I created, in order to try and hide who you truly were. I took away your voice. I took away your happiness. I took away your meaning. Your name means “first ray of the sun.” Sunshine, I took away your hope.
I am so undeniably and overwhelmingly sorry for the way that I treated you. I was so afraid of the judgement of others that I became your biggest bully. I was scared that you couldn’t handle more cruelty; you already receive enough as it is, as a brown female in America. I didn’t realize that I was being the cruelest one to you.
When I finally let you come to terms with who you were in high school, it was like you could finally breathe clearly for the first time in years. I underestimated your strength. Even though you did face some of that prejudice I was so worried about, you were so much happier openly being that girl you once were, the one with so much love to give: the one I had silenced all those years ago.
When you first came out to your friends and family, you came out as a bisexual woman. But over time, you fell in love with the idea of not having a label. It just felt so perfect to you, so right. You simply like to say that you fall in love with the soul of a person. That’s truly all there is to it, and you are absolutely beautiful the way that you are. I am sorry for making you feel like you had to hide it for so long.
I would like to conclude with this: Sunshine, you are absolutely worthy of being loved. You are not less worthy of it simply because men are not the only people you love in this life. Love is an amazing feeling, and it should be celebrated. Never let anyone, especially yourself, make you doubt that.
With all my love,
The You Who is Openly Not Straight, and Proud of it