A Letter to My Parents
By: Daksha Krishnan
Tags: Family, Letters, LGBTQ

Hello,

You might be wondering why you’re reading a random article off the Internet, much less an article about me. Anyways, hi. It’s me. Sorry I haven’t come out of my room.

Now to the topic of this letter.

I needed to tell you something. Something really important. Something that’s really big to me that I wanted to share with you.

I am bisexual.

If we’re looking at a technical definition, this just means that I am attracted to more than one gender with a preference towards a particular one. Those genders are the conventional male and female, but I don’t know. I might be pan, and I might find myself falling for someone nonbinary. We don’t know.

The reason I needed a name for my sexuality was because I’m someone who likes structure, who likes labels, who likes knowing who they are, and honestly, I had no idea who that was. I knew that the girl I am is the daughter of two Indian immigrants, the older sister of a new teenager. I knew that she loves music more than people, she loves to write about her imaginary worlds, she likes being with her friends, but she likes it even more when she’s alone. She tries really hard to keep herself occupied because she’s scared of being left alone with her mind. She likes hiding what she feels because that way, she doesn’t inconvenience anyone. She doesn’t speak often, but when she does, people tend to listen because it’s a rare occurrence.

Identity is everything these days, and not knowing mine was pure and utter torture. Literally, why middle school was hell. While the girls of my grade were talking about how hunky the new Bachelor was or how hot Shawn Mendes was in his latest music video, I could care less. I wasn’t attracted to any boys in my school because I was attracted to girls instead. I knew I was still attracted to males, Draco Malfoy and a bunch of K-pop idols being a testament to that, but I saw girls in the same light. And that is when the realization dawned on me.

“Bro, like what if you’re gay?”

It took a long time for me to accept that new revelation. I remember looking up my newfound attraction online like they were symptoms of some rare disease. I didn’t even know there was a such thing as bisexuality; I just knew that you could be gay or straight, and I couldn’t even comprehend the prospect of being gay, of being anything other than a heterosexual. It almost didn’t seem real like I was a part of a simulation and someone was toying with the settings.

I realized that I had a different perspective of the world, a varied view on love, right from 9th grade. The world was a place where good people always succeeded and bad people would receive bad karma throughout their life to make up for their past indiscretions. I used to believe that I was going to meet Prince Charming who would marry me, sweep me away, and have a domestic white picket fence lifestyle. But now, it might be a Princess Charming or perhaps it might not even be a fairytale.

The internalized biphobia only went from 0 to 100 in high school. I was in a cesspool of teenage hormones and anxiety coupled with depression and stress. I was surrounded by people who either had it all together and knew their place in the world or people who were on the verge of disintegrating into dust. I was pushed and pulled in every direction by classes, some of which I loved and some of which I was just along for the ride. Adding on to that pleasant treasure trove of problems, I come from a huge South Asian family, and traditionally, Asian parents aren’t super accepting.

I only ever realized myself in all my queer beauty in junior year. My new sexuality scared me, I thought even my best friends would look at me differently just because of who I liked, that my parents would refuse to accept me. But after coming out to several friends with positive reactions and learning to self love, I grew out of that fear.

I learned that acceptance is when someone can take off their figurative mask and breathe normally without feeling guilty about doing it. I’ve never felt more confident about myself since I came out for the first time. Now, I know that I shouldn’t be afraid to express myself. After climbing out of the black hole, honesty and self-confidence have become the two traits that I am most proud of, and I wouldn’t have been able to say that if I hadn’t accepted myself for the glorious queer woman I am.

Which is why I’m writing this.

To be honest, I don’t really care if you accept me as I am or not. I love myself the way I am, and I don’t want to change this part of me. This isn’t a choice; it was how I was made, and I need you to understand that. Whatever choice you make regarding this information is up to you, and I will still love you all the same. I just need you to understand that this is me.

I am a brave, magnificent, creative, ambitious, beautiful, queer woman. And I’m not going to change.

Sincerely,

Your daughter