I remember growing up in the bible belt believing that gay was a bad word. I remember being around 5 or 6 years old and asking my mom what it meant, only for her to avoid the question by using the technical definition of "bright and happy". Once I got older, I remember watching the tension between same sex characters in my favorite shows just secretly and silently begging for a little bit more between them, but obviously it never happening. I remember coming out to my mom saying I was attracted to women, and my mom telling me with venom on her tongue that her and my father don't believe in that and promptly reminding me that I "know what the bible says". I remember just last year telling my father that I proposed to the love of my life, to recieve no response, then be informed that he "needs to process".
These are all scars, or a branding on the flesh of my heart of what it took for me to get somewhere good, somewhere happy. However, now I can say that I have found communities, family and friends, and even media that have smoothed over the tender flesh. I am soon to marry the love of my life with even my parents in attendance that love my fiance as one of their own. I no longer fear my own identity and who I've become. I am now stronger than ever and all the better for it.