ADVERTISEMENT

I’m honestly tired of not being able to tell anyone about how I got disowned and thrown out of our house.

When I was 13, I discovered I was panromantic. I didn’t care if someone was a man, woman, or neither, I would love them as long as they were a good person.

I remained closeted for 3 years. I told my friends James and Rowan, of course, but that was it.

I was terrified of coming out to my family. My family isn’t very…accepting. We are an old family, hundreds of years old. I would tell you my family name, but I would rather keep it private.

The family is very homophobic, sexist, and racist. They believe that LGBTQ+ people don’t deserve to live. They believe that a woman’s purpose in life is to be married by 19, have children, and host stupid socials as a woman of society should. My family believes that white people are superior to all.

They’re basically living in the 1800s, it’s ridiculous.

When I turned 15, I had my first girlfriend. We tried to keep our relationship secret, but my (insane) cousin Annette found out. She cornered me and threatened to tell my parents. I begged her to not tell and she seemed satisfied.

When I was 16, Aunt Georgia and Uncle Silas hosted a Christmas party in their home. Most of the family attended the party. It was sickening to see all the expensive clothing, glittering jewelry, and champagne in the ballroom.

After the party, we retired to a sitting room, where the adults talked and the children played quietly in the corner. In our family, 16 is the age where a child is considered an adult.

ADVERTISEMENT

The adults in attendance were my uncles Walter, Edward, Louis, Silas, Richard, and Alfred. My aunts Juliette, Margaret, Sophronia, Georgia, Octavia, and Virginia were there. The older cousins were Theo, Annette, Felix, Gilbert, and Ariana.

Annette always hated me. I don’t know why, and I never will. So when the talk shifted to hate speech about LGBTQ+, coloured people, and women, Annette casually said, “Did you know that Lillian is, er…panromantic?”

The talking ceased immediately. My mother Marjorie glared at me. She demanded that I explain what ‘panromantic’ meant.

I told them the definition of panromantic, and they looked disgusted. Annette also said I had a girlfriend (but we broke up before Christmas).

They looked furious. The only one that didn’t look like he wanted to kill me was Theo.

My mother screamed at me. Marjorie said that I was a disgrace to the family, that I should be ashamed. She said that if I wasn’t her eldest child, she would have killed and fed to the dogs.

Annette picked up the family Bible and threw it at me. It left a gash in my head. Mother grabbed my father’s cigar, picked up the Bible, and burned my name off (rather like Sirius Black when he was disowned. Oof). Marjorie told me I was no longer welcome in any of my relatives’ houses.

I ran from the house, tripping over the stupid gown I was wearing (gowns are hideous). I ran to my friend Rowan’s house in the middle of the night. He called his parents to the door and thankfully, they took me in.

ADVERTISEMENT

I stayed with Rowan and his family until we turned 18. We moved out and got an apartment in Boston, where we share it with our friend James.

When we were getting settled in the apartment, Theo showed up. He told me he was sorry and if I ever needed a place to stay, he would welcome me. To this day, we remain friends.

And now we arrive in the present. I am living happily with my friend, studying music in college, and have not crossed paths with my family (the exception being Theo).

Oof, that felt good. I’ve been wanting to share my story for quite a while.

Basically, if any parents are reading this, please don’t hate your child based on their sexuality. Yes, you may not take it to such an extreme level, but the feeling is the same. Your child will feel unloved. They won’t feel understood.

I appreciate you reading. Have a good day!

I’m honestly tired of not being able to tell anyone about how I got disowned and thrown out of our house.

When I was 13, I discovered I was panromantic. I didn’t care if someone was a man, woman, or neither, I would love them as long as they were a good person.

I remained closeted for 3 years. I told my friends James and Rowan, of course, but that was it.

I was terrified of coming out to my family. My family isn’t very…accepting. We are an old family, hundreds of years old. I would tell you my family name, but I would rather keep it private.

The family is very homophobic, sexist, and racist. They believe that LGBTQ+ people don’t deserve to live. They believe that a woman’s purpose in life is to be married by 19, have children, and host stupid socials as a woman of society should. My family believes that white people are superior to all.

They’re basically living in the 1800s, it’s ridiculous.

When I turned 15, I had my first girlfriend. We tried to keep our relationship secret, but my (insane) cousin Annette found out. She cornered me and threatened to tell my parents. I begged her to not tell and she seemed satisfied.

When I was 16, Aunt Georgia and Uncle Silas hosted a Christmas party in their home. Most of the family attended the party. It was sickening to see all the expensive clothing, glittering jewelry, and champagne in the ballroom.

After the party, we retired to a sitting room, where the adults talked and the children played quietly in the corner. In our family, 16 is the age where a child is considered an adult.

ADVERTISEMENT

The adults in attendance were my uncles Walter, Edward, Louis, Silas, Richard, and Alfred. My aunts Juliette, Margaret, Sophronia, Georgia, Octavia, and Virginia were there. The older cousins were Theo, Annette, Felix, Gilbert, and Ariana.

Annette always hated me. I don’t know why, and I never will. So when the talk shifted to hate speech about LGBTQ+, coloured people, and women, Annette casually said, “Did you know that Lillian is, er…panromantic?”

The talking ceased immediately. My mother Marjorie glared at me. She demanded that I explain what ‘panromantic’ meant.

I told them the definition of panromantic, and they looked disgusted. Annette also said I had a girlfriend (but we broke up before Christmas).

They looked furious. The only one that didn’t look like he wanted to kill me was Theo.

My mother screamed at me. Marjorie said that I was a disgrace to the family, that I should be ashamed. She said that if I wasn’t her eldest child, she would have killed and fed to the dogs.

Annette picked up the family Bible and threw it at me. It left a gash in my head. Mother grabbed my father’s cigar, picked up the Bible, and burned my name off (rather like Sirius Black when he was disowned. Oof). Marjorie told me I was no longer welcome in any of my relatives’ houses.

I ran from the house, tripping over the stupid gown I was wearing (gowns are hideous). I ran to my friend Rowan’s house in the middle of the night. He called his parents to the door and thankfully, they took me in.

ADVERTISEMENT

I stayed with Rowan and his family until we turned 18. We moved out and got an apartment in Boston, where we share it with our friend James.

When we were getting settled in the apartment, Theo showed up. He told me he was sorry and if I ever needed a place to stay, he would welcome me. To this day, we remain friends.

And now we arrive in the present. I am living happily with my friend, studying music in college, and have not crossed paths with my family (the exception being Theo).

Oof, that felt good. I’ve been wanting to share my story for quite a while.

Basically, if any parents are reading this, please don’t hate your child based on their sexuality. Yes, you may not take it to such an extreme level, but the feeling is the same. Your child will feel unloved. They won’t feel understood.

I appreciate you reading. Have a good day!