Find a life of your own.

When I was 12 or 13, I was a pretty outgoing girl. I was fun to be around and I had a mental list of my favorite jokes to tell to new people I met. I loved wearing neon-colored clothing and I had just discovered what make-up was. I had also only recently moved to a new town with my family due to my father's job and even though I didn't feel a real connection with anyone at my new school, I felt pretty at easy with how things were.

When I was 12 or 13, I went to mess every Sunday. My father worked at the church next doors, which was connected to our home through a dark basement corridor, only blocked from our house through a small door we, however, kept open at nearly all times. At mess, there always was an extra program for the kids to which I went to until 2014 when I became to old for it. I had a friend at church, we'll call her Susan, and I always got excited when she was there for the mess, because that meant I could play with her during the kids program.

One specific Sunday, I think it was in winter, Susan was at mess and we talked and chilled as always. After mess, we stayed in the room where the kids program was held and just ran around or something, I don't really remember what exactly we did, but I do remember that we had a lot of fun. For some reason, there were deflated balloons lying around the place and we decided we wanted to inflate them, just for fun, you know. While we were doing this, a man from our church entered the room. He has a mental illness. Anyways, he entered the room and offered to help us with inflating them, he had a ball pump that would make it so easier and he'd go grab it. My friend and I already were uncomfortable. Maybe it was due to his mental illness, I don't know, or just the fact that a grown man interrupted two little girls playing.

He came back and we started inflating the balloons. Susan was still there so although I was extremely uncomfortable and would've liked to run away from the situation I was currently in, I told myself it's okay, Susan was here with me and it's also not okay of me to judge this man just because he has said mental illness. But then, after a while, Susan's mum showed up and said they were gonna go now, so Susan said goodbye to me and left. Left me alone with that man in that room. Now I was starting to get really scared. I wanted to leave. I tried to find reasons to leave. Reasonable reasons. I didn't want to say "I'm uncomfortable, I want to leave". I didn't want to make HIM uncomfortable. I also thought that maybe he wouldn't understand, he'd say it isn't a good enough reason.

I don't remember how it came to be. My mind is completely black between Susan leaving and the situation happening. All I remember is at one point, I was trying to inflate a balloon with the pump, but I was too weak, so he sat down on top of me. On top of my shoulders. And pushed me down. I was terrified. I wanted him to get off of me. I froze up. He kept sitting on top of me (I'll never forget this moment). My parents were upstairs. They wouldn't show up any time soon to pick me up. I felt helpless. And I felt ashamed of myself. For letting him do whatever he wants with me but also for already thinking I am a victim and what was happening was not okay. He has a mental illness, I told myself. That's just how he behaves. Accept it and move on.

Eventually I quietly told him some made up lie, about how I still need to get some homework done, and he let me leave. I ran up to our guest room and laid on the bed and immediately started crying. I couldn't comprehend what had happened to me. I didn't WANT him to touch me, that much I knew. But why did I then let it happen? Didn't I consent by not saying no? My mum came home after a while and I roughly told her about what had happened. She laughed and said I shouldn't worry, that that man has a mental illness and it's just the way he is, nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. The mantra I have been telling myself for years.

The following Sunday, I was scared. When I left the room the week before, the man had said we could "repeat this next week". I was scared I would be alone with him in this room again. Helpless. I never left my mum's side that Sunday. And the following Sunday. And the following Sunday. And so on. To this day, I am terrified of going into our house's basement alone. I always think he'll somehow turn up. We'd be locked in this room again. And he'll touch me again, but this time not only the upper part of my body but everything.

Half a year after these events, I was walking home from school. I had a terrible day at school, people were calling me names and I was sad all the time. I saw two guys walking towards me, with a smug grin on their face. They were maybe two, maybe three years older than me. As soon as I saw them, I knew what would happen. I felt helpless. I ignored their stares, pretended I didn't exist, speeded up my pace so that it would be over soon and maybe then they would be quiet and wouldn't say anything but they did. "Hey, you lush hoe!". I froze up internally. I forced a smile. I walked past them. I pretended it never happened. Again. It's a compliment, I told myself. You should feel honored. Or they're just dumb and it's stupid you're getting upset over such a small thing again. This is how it is supposed to be.

This is how it's supposed to be, is what I told myself many more years. I repeated it like a mantra every Sunday when I was at mess, and I saw that man, and he stared at me lustily (he still does. every Sunday. it never ends.). I told myself it's normal to be anxious when random men were walking past me on the street, looking at me greedily, and I thought maybe they would touch me the way he did, because men can take whatever they want and leave and that's just the way it is.

Then I suppressed it. Until like a year ago. When I read sexual harrassment stories, that event never even came to my mind. Never. And then it did again when Taylor Swift's sexual assault case was a big topic. And #metoo. But I shrugged it off. All he did was to sit atop of me, and he has a mental illness after all, I said to myself. My mum was probably right and it is not a big deal, I'm blowing things out of proportion, it's not worth sharing, I'm taking away the light from REAL survivors of sexual assault. I should just shut up about it.

But the thing is, I cannot shut up about it anymore. I cannot shut up about it when that situation still impacts my mental health. I cannot shut up about it when I still think every man I meet will eventually assault me. That's just how men are. Boys will be boys. I cannot shut up about it when it has impaired every chance at a romantic relationship with any man ever. Because after a short while I got scared, I thought they would touch me against my will like that man did, since all I was taught was that my body was an object I had not control over. I cannot shut up about it when it has made me choose horrible men to fall in love with because I thought their shitty treatment of me was all I deserved. I cannot shut up about it anymore. I don't have the energy to keep quiet anymore. I cannot. I simply can't.

When I was 12 or 13, the world I was living in was maybe naive, but I wish I could turn back time and prevent it all from happening. Somehow. I don't know.

Just trying to find a life of my own I guess.

xxx Sarah

Hey there. It's time for my annual post I guess. Honestly, I have done some thinking the last few weeks and came to the conclusion that I don't know if I'll keep making these every year. I mean next year I'll probably do, because I'll hit five years but then I'll just see how I feel. (this is just a short psa at the beginning).

I've also been doing some thinking about how to even start this post. Do I even have the right to post this when so many people are doing worse than I am? and do I even have the right to post about this when I feel like I've been lying to you guys about my mental state for quite a while? I don't know.

But let's start at the beginning.

I have always been very vocal about not just sharing the good sides of my life on tumblr. Tumblr, for me, was always the social media platform I was completely myself on, shared everything - the highs and the lows -, it was one of the few, if not the only social media platform, where I felt I don't have to make my life look prettier than it is for the sake of impressing people. But my blog grew massively last year, around the same time when I started getting worse again.

I of course have touched upon this in my 2018 recap post, but it still didn't feel completely honest to me. I was in a really bad place mentally, so bad, that at one point I started questioning whether I still am "clean" anymore, whether I can still proudly celebrate May 19th without feeling like a liar, and a hypocrite, since I have so clearly been doing worse and worse. Who am I to say that it gets better when I couldn't see that flicker of hope for myself? Who was I to make posts on here ending on an optimistic note when my life was currently in pieces?

For me, the second half of 2018 was a whirlwind of a lot of dark days. I don't think I have truly been myself during that time. I mean I was there, and I met up with friends, and I posted about exciting new things that happened in my life on tumblr, posted selfies of me smiling and beaming as if I was doing great, but it never really felt like ME. I lost my grandparents last year. I lost a friend who meant everything to me. I had to come to terms with my sexuality, while simultaneously figuring out ways to hide it from most of the world. I got my heart broken by a girl, ran after her, not noticing I was chasing a ghost, and placed my value into what others thought of me again. I was deeply insecure. And I felt like I had been lying to myself as well. I always complained about how no one ever notices my progress, how everyone still seems to think that I'm that scared little 13 year old girl being bullied by most of her school, especially her class, again. What I didn't realize was that part of her still clinged to me. Of course, your past is important and is always a part of it, but what I noticed that instead of taking the time to actually work through what happened, I just stayed quiet about it and pretended this was what healing was. Told myself the numbness I felt when thinking back about it is me being okay with it, me making peace with my past.

And I was angry. I didn't think I could hold so much anger within myself. I was angry at my friend who dumped me. Angry at my parents for the way they are. Angry at them for being the main reason why I can't trust any men and why I keep quiet just so that nothing can be twisted against me. I was angry at whoever is the head of destiny or the universe or whatever, for putting me in the position I was in. And I was angry at myself, for failing time and time again, thinking it was still self love I was practicing.

I didn't realize that loving yourself doesn't mean pretending that you can never do anything wrong, but acknowledging when you hurt people and making amends, saying sorry. Loving yourself also doesn't mean screaming over your thoughts, keeping yourself as busy as possible so as to not give them any attention, it's about making time for yourself, time to structure your thoughts and feelings and figuring out where they are coming from. Loving yourself isn't keeping quiet about the things that weigh you down, protecting people that don't deserve protection for what they did was horrible, just so you don't have to face people who might think your pain is invalid. It's about talking to others, not closing up to the people who only mean well, who genuinely love you for yourself. Loving yourself is taking steps out of your comfort zone, daring to wear brighter clothing again, daring to go up to people and start up a conversation, daring to express your thoughts.

I'm at a better place now. Not fully, but I am recovering, and I feel like my mind has returned to my body and it's actually me who's talking and making decisions again. And a lot fo good things have come out of that painful phase of my life. I'm closer to my parents. I understand why I am so freaking secretive about everything happening in my life, coming from a household where problems are dealt by remaining silent and pretending they don't exist. I am extremely close to my best friend now. She's my best friend, but for so so long I still would've kept most of my feelings about things to myself, being scared that she might dump me if I do tell her. I have a better grasp of who I am, where I stand and where I need to start. Where I CAN start.

So am I allowed to post about being clean, when last year was such a hard time for me? Yes, I am. Being clean doesn't mean never having bad days again. It doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to cry and crumble and shatter and scream anymore. It means balancing the two of them, fighting time and time again. And even if I was feeling bad, that doesn't change the fact that getting clean in the first place was a huge achievement. I DID THAT. I had help, but I was the one who picked myself up. I was the one who said "enough is enough" and started working on myself. You shouldn't belittle something just because it isn't as picture perfect as you thought it would be.

Some of you guys have known me since before I got clean. Some of you I got to know when I was in the middle of picking myself up again. Some of you I only met recently. But one thing remains: No matter how big my blog becomes, or who follows me, or who knows me, most of you support me. And tell me when I'm wrong. Which is good, too. And I like talking to you so much, I get teary-eyed whenever anyone ever sends me a nice message or compliments me. Some things never change after all, I guess. So thank you again. For sticking with me through this journey. Even when I got more distant. Thank you for staying until I started emerging on the brighter side again. "don't read the last page but I'll stay" - the same goes to you. Thank you.

And this wouldn't be a celebratory post about being clean without thanking Taylor. Because she is the reason why I felt seen in the first place. She is the reason why I met so many amazing people. She is the reason why I feel like I can keep moving forward, because she keeps moving forward, no matter what life throws at her. Taylor, I know you won't read this, and that's okay, but I just wanted to say that I love you. Thank you. For everything.

I'm really intrigued to see where I'll be next year. Who I will be. What I've learned and what I've lost. And I hope I will still be as proud of being clean as I am today.

Still trying to find a life of my own,

xxx Sarah

(yeah, I know, long time no see again - or *insert gif of Madison from American Horror Story saying "surprise b*tch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me*. I just tried getting my feelings out through writing poetry lately but sometimes it just doesn't feel exactly right so I'm gonna try to post more on here again)

Sometimes I feel as if I am a trainwreck waiting to happen. Okay I know this sounds terribly romanticized and cliché, like the posts we all used to like whe we were like thirteen and felt like everyone around us including ourselves hated ourselves. Or, if you stan Lorde as much as I do, this reminds you of A World Alone, but that's besides the point.

Okay, maybe it's not that I really am but that I regard myself in that way. And I really thought I had gotten over that by now but lately this insecurity of mine seems to creep up on me again similarly to that American Horror Story gif (seriously - it suits so many situations, wow! thank you internet for your endless supply of reaction gifs).

So, here's the thing: I used to have reaally big problems with jealousy within my friendships. And by big I mean gigantonormous problems. Like on one birthday of mine, I went climbing with my best friend and another friend of mine. Mind you, that was at the peak time of my insecurities. But I actually kind of snapped at both of them, because they were getting along so well that I feared that soon they will find that the other one is way cooler than I'll ever be and they'll be best friends and I'll be left behind. I know it's stupid, but that's how my teenage brain worked. And although I comparatively got better at handling this jealousy, it hasn't vanished completely yet. I always want to be everyone's closest friend somehow and that's so dumb because the other way round, my closest friend is and always will be my best friend - talk about double standards. And I still feel this pang of jealousy whenever I introduce one of my friends to another one, as if they're now going to leave me. I actually talked about this with my best friend recently and she said that she had the same issue but by now she has accepted that she can't be everyone's closest friend and somehow that made me feel a little bit as if we're talking about a race and she's right at the front while my knees still give up after just a couple of metres of running.

And, to come to the title of this post, it's probably still because of my thoughts about myself. I know I am pretty weird (not like, Jughead in Riverdale weird, like I don't mean it to make myself "cooler" or anything, it's just something I have learned to accept). I know that oftentimes I cannot articulate my thoughts properly, that I'm the clumsiest person you will ever meet and if I don't at least once blush when I'm talking to you, something is seriously wrong. I know I've got issues with being vulnerable, even with my friends, I know I let things get to me too easily and that I overthink more than it's actually healthy, and that I have a complicated family and that sometimes I try to avoid conflicts so much that I actually feel worse about myself. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I mean, it's good to be aware of your flaws, but I do think I am incredibly hard on myself in that way, but I can't turn it off because so many people I thought were my friends actually did just that: left me for somebody who was "cooler" or "more chill" or just everything I am not.

It's an even bigger issues when it comes to relationships. While I have never been in anyone to this date, I do usually overthink every action of every person that ever even remotely flirts with me to the point where I push them away before anything can ever happen. This is especially worse with men. Maybe it's a "you gotta leave before you get left" mentality, to put it in Taylor's words. Or maybe I just watched To All The Boys I've Loved Before too often, or maybe also Pitch Perfect and the scene where Jesse is disappointed in Beca. But back to my point. My point is, that I'm so scared that they are going to leave me, that I put up walls before they even have so much of a chance of getting to know me. Or I just straight up ghost them. And I'm aware it's unhealthy and actually making my life more miserable than it actually should be but I just cannot seem to stop.

That's why I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and have come to the conclusion that while I seem to crave for a relationship, I truly and really wouldn't be ready for one. It's not fair of me to get someone's chances high if I eventually leave anyways because of my anxiety. And yes, that sounds terribly depressing, but I just can't help myself.

Maybe I just need to find a way to healthily deal with my fears. Or realize how stupid they are since I know that my friends love me. Sometimes I just forget to remember it. I don't know. Until then, thank you for coming along on my journey of trying to find a life of my own.

xxx Sarah

It's time for my recap of 2018! I just read through my blog posts about 2016 & 2017 on here and I felt so weird because that past me was me but I also feel like I've changed so much the past few months that it couldn't be farther from the current me (if that makes any sense).

My New Year's resolution last year was simply to be content with my life and well.. there has been a lot happening, but as always, I'm gonna file those things into different categoires.

1. family
2018 was a strange year for me family-wise. It started with me realizing or rather accepting that I'm bi in January, and ever since then, I felt a real disconnect especially from my parents. As I mentioned in last year's post, they're Christian and thus in a lot of aspects homophobic and I don't think they would accept it if I told them I liked girls as well. Because of that, this year has really been anxiety driven for me, as I wanted to tell my friends of course, but since my father is really known in our town, I had to be kind of exclusive about it so that it wouldn't reach him. My biggest fears I guess are either being kicked out or sent to conversion therapy. I've gotten many kind anons about it on my tumblr blog, but I still haven't told them and do not think I will any time soon. However, I do feel more okay with it at the moment, or at least as okay as one can be in my situation.

In addition to that, my grandmother passed away at the end of February. It was really tough for me, as no one of the people close to me has ever died before, and as she died in a span of like two days and no one in our family had seen it coming. At that time, my half-brother was visiting and I of course didn't ant to break down in front of him and his wife, especially since the rest of my family seemed fine with it and I felt so guilty for breaking down about it every time I was alone in my room. I actually hadn't even told anyone about it at that time except for my best friend and my drama teacher (for the purpose of rescheduling rehearsals). I felt so alone, since my mum stayed at my grandparents' for like four days straight and I felt like she would be the only one to get what I'm feeling.

Even after the funeral, even months after that, I had a hard time visiting my grandpa. Simply because everything would remind me of her. The kitchen area, the place where she would always sit, her corner in my grandparents' bedroom which still looked as if she had never left. This resulted in me barely visiting anymore, because I would just get so sad I couldn't cope.

It has been hard on my mum as well. She blames herself for the death of my grandmother and she spent as much time as possible at my grandfather's after her mum passed away. My grandfather has been depressive since forever and we were all really worried how he would cope now that he was all alone. But he actually did better than we thought he would. But he, as well, blamed himself for my grandmother's death so it was all a mess, really. Then about three weeks ago, he passed away as well.

I don't even want to recall all that happened during the funeral, with my great uncle/his brother getting a stroke in the middle of it all and how he eventually died because of it as well.

But to end this on a lighter note I guess, both of my halfbrothers are getting kids next year!! So I'm gonna be an aunt and that still sounds very strange to me. I'm very happy for them. Funny, isn't it? How two lives ended but two new lives are beginning.

2. friends
I'd sum it up with "You win some, you lose some". I think I really started to figure out who my real friends were and who only was on my side when I was my happy, bright self.

I was really happy when my friends wrote this text for me in our yearbook because it really captured the essence of me and I didn't think they knew it, since I really keep a lot of things to myself. They were there for me in my happiest moments (when we received the results of our finals and I cried happy tears) and in my saddest (when our prom was over and I legitimately cried for one hour straight in my friends' arms because I was so sad I wouldn't get to see them and my favorite teachers anymore).

Since I've graduated, I've lost a lot of "acquaintances" friends but that's something that I knew would happen so I was okay with it, I guess. What really hit me was my long-term friend I have had ever since we moved here ditched me on my birthday and was overall just really shitty to me. It hurt me, because I invested so much time again and again in our friendship although I knew for years now that she didn't value our friendship the way I did and only was in for the gossip. But that realization also helped me let go of her. I'm not completely over it yet, but I think that with time and patience all things can heal.

But even so, I'm still in contact with a selected few of my highschool friends. We'll se how that goes, but I am incredibly grateful for them anyways.

I think the biggest lesson I've learned this year is that it is okay to be vulnerable. I found it quite funny because in my 2017 post, I mention that I have a hard time opening up to people and how that bugs me. And I think I made a huge step in the right direction this year. The girl I fell in love with (I'll get to that later as well) and I ended up becoming really, really close friends and she really taught me that it is okay to express your thoughts as is. Throught that, I (especially now, at the end of the year) was finally able to tell my friends when something was off, even though it was hard to overcome my fears. And in the end, I always noticed how good I felthaving talked about my issues and that the right people will get you and don't think you're weird or abnormal for your way of seeing things.

3. love
Last year, I only hinted it in my post, but I actually did indeed fall in love with that girl (or rather, I actually already was back then but I was afraid to accept it). Because of it, I had some really really great times, times when I thought she likes me back or just the rush of her asking me to meet up or confiding in me. Of course, it eventually lead to the burn & end when I finally definitely knew she was straight and yes, I was really heartbroken about it for a long, long time but I think I moved past it by now and I'm really grateful for all that it has taught me and all the happiness it has brought me. Falling in love with a girl felt so different and so new, because for once I didn't more or less "plan" it, it just happened and the emotions were so intense that right now, I kind of just miss the feeling of having a big crush on someone. Like the real deal, not just the "they're kinda attractive and kinda nice" but the Gorgeous (2017) by Taylor Swift way, the way in which you are so utterly enchanted by someone that you lose track of all of your surroundings.

Ever since I found out I was bi, I noticed more and more how attractive women actually are and allowed myself to feel that way and it feels so liberatig, honestly.

Then, still in the middle of me getting over the girl, I met a guy. Nice and kind as he was, I at first didn't care at all about him offensively flirting with me. I had the matter settled: I only wanted to be with the girl and if it's not her, I couldn't imagine any relationship with any guy at that point in time. I dreamt about kissing girls, holding a girl's hand and all the other fluff you might imagine. But then, a strange sensation hit me when he ever so lightly touched me and I felt so safe and also as if for once the girl and my feelings for her didn't matter as much anymore. I think you all know how this all ended and that nothing ever happened. Maybe it was my fault for being to caught up with her and pretending I didn't care for him or his, for not speaking up when he had the choice but we can't really change the past, can we? We can only learn from it and move forward, and use our experiences to do better next time.

 4. general state of mind
As you probably know, 2018 has been a heard year for me mental health wise. I've struggled a lot with anxiety problems (and just months of sadness, really) ever since highschool ended 'cause I felt so lost and I, to be honest, still do. But towards the end of the year, I've learned to find a better way to deal with it. I talk with my friends a lot. I go and see a therapist. I try to remind myself that nearly everyone around me hasn't figured it all out yet either. And that it's okay to just exist and take it day by day. Maybe it's just the end of the year optimism, but I'm really convinced that from here on it can only get better. There's only one way, and it's up, right?


aaaand now a new category, yay! drumroll please...

5. my favorite moments of 2018
I know I always say 2018 was one of the worst years of my life and I can't wait for it to finally be over. And as much as this is true (suck my ass, 2018!), I recently started a list of moments or things that were good about this year, to remind myself that although I only wandered in the dark for quite a long time this year, not all of it was all bad. So here's the list:

a) Falling for a girl the very first time (an amazing experience. 10/10 would recommed tbh)

b) Graduating from highschool, having just weeks of amazing activities with your grade, crying tears of joy upon hearing your results and running towards your friend to jump into her arms, driving around the city like absolute mad people waving at others and screaming "we made it!" at the top of our lungs, holding the first version of the yearbook we worked on in our hands, doing the best senior prank our school has ever seen and first and foremost cherishing the time with the people you love

c) Our theatre play and how succesful it was because it was funny af, the applause lasting for so long, our drama teacher telling me that I'm really good at my role although it's a 180 from who I'm usually am, moments with our group, holding hands and calming our nerves, walking around the school knowing you aced this one

d) The books and movies I've read/watched this year, reading Simon vs. The Homosapiens Agenda for the first time and feeling so incredibly understood, being absolutely hyped for the movie and watching it as often as humanly possible, devouring every single one of Becky Albertalli's books, being so utterly enchanted by a movie called "Your Name" that your entire camera roll consists of nothing else

e) The new music that was released, Troye's new album and getting concert tickets for the tour, Alessia's album & feeling so understood in the struggle of growing up, getting concert tickets for Madeline Juno

f) Days spent with friends, whether that'd be Julia & Josy and screaming Taylor's lyrics at the top of our lungs on car rides or having a really great birthday party with your friends, baking with new and old ones, getting to know new people

PSA: I have decided to start a notes tab on my phone for these kind of things and write them down right after they happen so I don't forget a single one of them.

So what is my resolution for 2019?
As I began to be more vulnerable this year, I noticed that a lot of times I hide things from the people I love. I think it's, once again, the strange fear of not being understood or being laughed at that keeps me from being entirely honest and telling others when something bothers me or I'm feeling down. But I'm honestly tired of always and compulsively lying, when most of the time it actually complicates things further. I often find myself lying for no apparent reason other than a lie being perhaps a bit more comfortable and I can't even think before I already tell it. So for 2019, I want to start being honest about my feelings and thoughts, and stop lying (a goal would obviously be to not lie at all but as that's probably unrealistic, I'd just say the goal is to keep the lying to a minimum).

And now we shall see I guess. I'm pretty excited about 2019 though. I have a feeling that it will be my year. On that note, I hope it is for you as well. And thank you again for all the kind messages I have received this year and the love so many of you all spread. May all of us do better than we ever were next year. Love you lots.

Keep trying to find a life of your own,

xxx Sarah

This feels a little weird to post, not gonna lie, simply because I'm pretty much still in the closet (except for the internet, of course) but I thought about making a post like this for a while now and some of you said they would be interested in it so here I am.

So, hi, in case you did not know, I'm Sarah and I'm bisexual. Or at least I currently identify as bisexual.

I know usually in posts or videos about this kind of topic people usually say the have known since forever but for me it did not happen like that. I mean, looking back, yeah maybe, but I'll get to that later on perhaps.

Being anything other than straight never really occurred to me to be honest as my parents are strictly Christian and therefore don't accept homosexuals. I remember when I was like six, my mum would like complain about this Christian preacher being openly gay and I was like "but where's the problem mum? He just loves who he loves." and my mum was like "No, but being gay is actually a disease that should be cured". And even though she said it, it still never made sense to me why God should love people less because of who they love so I have actually remained supportive of the LGBT community despite various interactions like that.

But, of course, I thought I was straight. I had multiple crushes on boys and by the time I heard about the term "bisexual", I was already pretty settled in that matter. However, about two years ago, I started thinking "But what IF I actually like girls?" but quickly brushed it away because as I said, I hat multiple crushes on guys. Well, technically, from time to time, the thought would still hit me but I always reacted the same, even when, in 11th grade, there were two moments with two different girls that I couldn't stop thinking about.

Then, on the 10th of November (I only know the exact date because it was the day reputation was released) of last year, I was at this party with one of the girls I mentioned in the last sentence. Actually, both were there, but I only interacted with one of them. And at one point we were just standing in this little lobby next to each other, practically all by ourselves and I thought "I wouldn't mind it if you kissed me right now.". I was so shocked by that thought that I quickly pushed it away again, but about a week later, I had a theatre rehearsal with said girl and every time she'd look at me or say something to me, my heart would just go absolutely batshit crazy and I didn't understand what was going on at all.

This state of confusion pretty much held on, with me constantly searching for the girl in every crowd and quite literally relating to the song Gorgeous so hard. Then I just happened to stumble upon this book called Simon vs. The Homosapiens Agenda and I read it because I saw there was a movie coming out soon and I just remember literally devouring it and on the evening that I finished it feeling absolutely invincible. And I thought "Hey, I think I really do have a crush on this girl, don't I? Does this mean that I'm.... bi?".

You see, I still wasn't sure about the whole thing. What if I told anyone (actually I have told Julia and the controversial pumpkins already but that was something else) that I was bi but then it turned out, after time, that I was just confused and I wasn't actually bi and falsely claimed this label and people would attack me etc etc (basically just my anxiety running wild). But then I found this video on youtube by this girl named Ava Gridley and she talked about how she found out she was bi. And for the first time in my entire journey did I hear someone say "I actually did not always know I was bi" and it felt like a burden was lifted off of my chest because maybe I was normal after all? And the one thing that really stuck out to me was her saying "just wanna tell ya, if you think you're bi then you probably are." and it helped me SO MUCH in terms of accepting myself and who I am.

I know labels ain't shit but I really have this strong urge to fit within a group and I was so glad I finally found a place somewhere.

Of course, looking back there were perhaps some moments which could've indicated this whole thing already but I never really payed attention to those. I recently watched a video of a girl talking about her childhood girl crushes and it made me realize that I loved most of them, too and it made so much more sense to me why I was like literally obsessed with them. Or that girl I met one summer when I was like 9 and we were on this program where we did something like a haunted house and we held hands all the way through it and how I desperately hoped I would see her again whenever I was in town.

The thing is, you don't have to have all the answers yet. Maybe you are still questioning your sexuality, maybe you don't want to label yourself or you do, either is fine, really. You've got a whole life to figure this out and if it changes, don't worry, sexuality is fluid. Perhaps one day I'll say "nope I'm gay" or "nope I'm straight" and that's fine, too. Don't limit yourself. And don't worry if you find out later in life than most people. That doesn't make your sexuality less real or valid.

And, if you're still in the closet like I mostly am, please remember that you are loved and someday you will find the strength to be who you actually are and find people who accept you no matter who you love. And that safety and the feeling of complete acceptance will be the best thing in the world.

Until then, I wish you good luck on the way of finding a life of your own.

xxx Sarah

Hey there. It's been a while since I've posted on here, maybe because my inspiration level was on a constant low for the past few months or maybe also because I knew subjects to talk about but didn't know how to phrase it.

But anyways, here I am, once again (in my head I just sang this like the Victorious theme song lol), talking about something that I thought about a lot before falling asleep yesterday.

So, as you might know, I love this book called The Perks Of Being A Wallflower and in it, there's this quote which goes like this "We accept the love we think we deserve". And I honestly truly believe this is true, as when you think you don't deserve love, you are more eager to accept the love from someone who does not and will never treat you right. I could honestly write a whole essay about this phenomenon because I've watched it happen to quite a few friends but that's not the topic of today's blog post.

Yesterday, I started thinking about all the people I sort of had a crush on these past few years and tried to tie them together somehow and I realize that at least on the men's side I fell for people who were either completely unattainable or turned out to be complete douchebags but I kept running after them just because they once showed some sort of interest in me. And then I thought of Lara Jean (from To All The Boys I've Loved Before) again and how she kept on falling for people that were totally out of her reach and she later realized she did it to save herself the heartache.

And perhaps I, unconciously, do that, too. I'm already a person who finds it very difficult to open up completely to others. On the internet that's no biggie, since I most likely will never meet the people who read my posts in real life. But, even regarding my closest friends, I keep things at bay from them. Maybe that's because I find it extremely difficult to voice my feelings in any sort of form verbally but also because I'm afraid they will somehow see me in a different way and - maybe even - won't like me anymore. And so this has kind of transferred into my romantic-relationship-attemps, too. I hold unrealistically high standards against every boy or girl I ever meet and if one aspect doesn't match up, I'm already like "I'm outta here" without giving even giving them a second try.

And I think this is probably because I'm so afraid of getting hurt again since in the past my vulnerabilities have been used against me or were laughed at. But is it really wise to let this ghost keep on haunting me? Won't I miss out on real friendships and real understanding from other and also eventually from real love? Isn't it better to get hurt than to ever have a chance at real happiness, ever?

I know I don't really offer any solution here but I just needed to get these thoughts out, write them down, structure them. And perhaps the initiate process of thinking will help me find a life of my own.

xxx Sarah