ANNIKA
SHE/HER/HERS
When I was 14 I realized I was madly in love with my best friend, and wrote a letter to my dad explaining that I was a lesbian. My dad cried, and told me that he still loved me, "in spite of" my sexuality. Knowing how many queer youth get abused or kicked out of homes for being themselves, it's hard to complain about a parent who promises to continue to love you. But that "in spite of" has haunted me for a long time.
Having a central part of you be something you need to be loved "in spite" of, instead of "because." I later realized the bisexuality/pansexuality fit me better, that it wasn't exclusively women I was attracted to, but if anything that's done even more to highlight the "in spite of." The way my dad has talked about my same sex or gender non-conforming partners vs. my opposite sex partners is blatant. There's always an emphasis on how he feels that I'm safer, when I have a "good man" to take care of me. How he doesn't have to worry. And I sure do like men too, but there's always a feeling of alienation from my queer community when I date them, and a feeling of caving into whatever expectations my dad has - that I've made my dating decisions in accordance with his expectations for my perceived safety, vs. having just connected with someone who is good for me regardless of their gender.
There's a stereotype that queer people find each other without trying, which I've found to be anecdotally true for most of my life. The majority of my close friends through most of my life have come out in some way or another or have otherwise been active and engaging allies, without my intentionally seeking that.
I've had to try a little harder since moving to Utah with its overwhelming conservative population and the increasingly loud anti-LGBQT+ campaigns online over the last few years as well.
And yet. In spite of. In spite of all the negativity - there's a flourishing community here too, that I'm really loving getting to connect with. People who get you matter. Visibility and community matter.