The Definition of Insanity

Dreams and Fears

August 12, 2020

I just wrote one of the most personal pieces of my life. There is a small contest going on right now for youth writers, and I decided to enter. The prompt is this: Write about your biggest dream and compare it to your biggest fear. When I first started writing it I thought it would be pretty light, until I realized that it wasn’t the right direction for it to take, not this time. I was going to write about working in psychology and... and what? My only fear about that is that I may not get into college and I’ll never get to work in a field I have grown to love.

No, that was not the right answer. So I dug deeper. I decided to write about the actual fear I have. I wrote about loving a girl in a world that doesn’t really accept us. They sexualize, demean, and scorn our existence due to something that is not our control. I wrote that the biggest dream I have is that I, and anyone like me, can love whoever they want. And because I’m terrified right now, I’m going to share it with you all. I do apologize for my poor writing right now as well. I’ll fix it later. But ignoring that, here is my submission:
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I am a sixteen year old who lives in the rural south. Shall you ever visit, I encourage you to hide that which makes you different, for who knows what would happen if someone saw. We are Bible fearing folk, most would say. We are what God made us. But the majority understands that such a proclamation comes with certain limitations that are not to be trifled with.

Over the years I have encountered many stares. It has ranged from my awkwardness, to the adoration I have for books, my loathing of sports, and from the way I run. It is a companion I am used to, as it no longer strikes a chord in me. However, just as time changes, so do people.

I no longer have to glare at strange looks or slip away from loud kids as they kick a small white ball and forth. I can sit alone at a lunch table and read in peace. It is as easy as breathing, now that we are older. I can be that awkward, gangly, book loving adolescent that everyone knows, without any issues. Except... I can’t.

I am scared to show the world who I am; the person I have just now started grasping with hesitation and shouts of frustration. It is a part of me that I know is not the typical response, or at least the preferred response, to growing older. I like wearing baggy shirts, tight jeans, and dark colored clothing. I look at a tux and a gleam enters my eye because I know that is what I would prefer to wear. My muse mutters about the characters I would be like if I was just able to slip into what I wanted, instead of what the world thinks. That is the me I have been trying to come to terms with for a while, but wrapped in a layer of tentative feelings that I know cannot slip out.

So you want to know my biggest dream? My biggest dream is to be able to hold the girl I love without the hordes of Hell releasing when someone happens to glimpse my arm secured around her waist. I want to ride a Ferris wheel and lay my head on her shoulder as we watch the world from above, without fear. I wish I was able to grow up in a world that accepts me and any other child like me without scorn. Why should it be a shame to cherish the person you were born to love?

The fear I hold surrounding this is not because she is black and I am white, though that would still raise eyebrows. It is the scorned knowledge that I am not a he. I have defied God, they snarl, for I am one girl, in love with another.