It is Thanksgiving, 2012
I'm standing in my grandmother's kitchen
The kitchen I grew up in
Where I did my homework
Ate my snacks
Sat and listened to the adults tell stories using names I couldn't put faces to
I'm standing on the outskirts
Because I know that what I'm about to say will soon make me an outsider
I wait for a moment of silence between my aunts and uncles
Silence has never been so deafening to me before
I clear my throat and mutter
"I have something to tell everyone"
They all look at me except my grandma who keeps her back to me
"I'm gay"
They stare with eyes of confusion
Glances that have only seen a Catholic lifestyle
And why is it that people have to make you feel like it's not okay to be who you are
When growing up we are taught how to make friends by being ourselves
And why is it that all of my straight cousins don't have to tell the family about their sexuality
But here I am condemning myself to the family that has only ever known 1 thing
Perfection
I almost wish that I had stopped myself
That I had stayed this quiet little girl for a little longer
That I obeyed my family and the church and all the people who saw me as wrong
It's hard growing up Catholic
When everything is about tradition
And you are too afraid to question what you were taught
Because they teach you to be scared of sin
I am ******* terrified of sin
Terrified of my own sexuality
My own way of loving someone
It is 2016
And we don't talk about it
Because talking would mean acknowledging the fact that I might not be perfect
That I might be a little different
My grandma likes to brag about her grandkids
Except me
And I don't bring it up because she raised me
And I'm realizing that she only talks about the things she is proud of
"She's going through a faze"
"Your grandma is trying to accept you"
"Jackie cover up your tattoos"
"Don't tell anyone you're gay"
Jackie be normal
Jackie be straight
Jackie be anything other than who you are
Please so I can be proud of you
I sit in my silence and it becomes my new home
Catholics are raised to follow tradition
Our paths are formed the minute we are born
We do not stray
We do not question
I cover up my tattoos so my grandma doesn't get upset
I cover up my sexuality so my grandma doesn't get upset
I cover up myself because tradition is more important than creating my own
And that makes me upset