These kinds of posts always hit me in a strange place.
I feel like I can relate in some ways. I grew up in a house where adults laughed at children's tears. As a child whose fear response was tears. At some point you just hide and feel guilty for being weak.
But for all that broken, when I came out I was told whatever about it. No one cared.
And it's really hard for me to imagine (even though I know it happens) living in a loving home where you know your parents will be there for you, knowing your mom is the kind of woman who would dry your tears and take you for ice cream, but you can't tell her about your break up because she believes you were just friends.
I feel like I can relate in some ways. I grew up in a house where adults laughed at children's tears. As a child whose fear response was tears. At some point you just hide and feel guilty for being weak.
But for all that broken, when I came out I was told whatever about it. No one cared.
And it's really hard for me to imagine (even though I know it happens) living in a loving home where you know your parents will be there for you, knowing your mom is the kind of woman who would dry your tears and take you for ice cream, but you can't tell her about your break up because she believes you were just friends.