Torn

CHAPTER 1

I was only 17 when I realized something just wasnt right about me. Most of my girlfriends were getting boyfriends, or were involved with guys. I however, was never that interested in guys. At times I would purposely flip through a magazine like "Glamour", "YM", or "Seventeen" just look at the pictures of guys in them. Not any of these made me feel anything. I would take note of the way other girls reacted to these pictures, which seemed to me as a humiliation to our race. I could never see what was so cute about Leonardo De Caprio or Brad Pitt.

I was attracted to people that were smart, funny, and entertaining to be around. I thought that maybe I was attracted to the mind of a guy and not so much the body. I dated a few guys. But each time seemed to be worse than the one before.

I'll never forget my first "date", if you can call it that. I look at it as a sad attempt to fit in with the heterosexual society. A guy that had sat behind me in my sophomore English class had asked me out. I thought that would be okay since we got along pretty well. He had showed up to my door promptly at the designated time with a red rose. At that point the relationship changed. I just smiled and told him thanks. Sirens were already making themselves loud in clear in my head followed by a sinking feeling in my heart as well as a sickening feeling in my stomach. At this point, it didnt feel okay or right for me. What the hell was wrong with me? I always had a good time in class talking with this guy; he shows up with a rose, a big grin on his face, and I already wanted the night to be over with.

After several attempts at holding my hand to various immature behaviors, (i.e racing his truck against another that we both knew had a bigger engine), the first torturous night of my life ended.

Junior year came too soon, and again, I found myself pondering why I still wasnt interested in the male species. Well, after the first guy I went out with, I am surprised I decided to try again. This time however, I went out with a guy that could always make me laugh in art class.

After the routine movie, we went over to his house, sat on his couch and chatted. His sister and parents were there, which was okay with me. I actually felt safer knowing that they were there. Not like I couldnt handle a freshman, which was the guy I was "going out with". As we talked, I noticed his arm nonchalantly move to the top of the couch. (Sorry to break it to you guys, but girls' notice things like that). I leaned forward to get away from him, my elbows going on my knees, and my attention focusing on what his sister was saying. Although I have to say, I was acutely aware of his every movement.

Somewhere along the line, I felt his hand on my back, rubbing, and then lightly scratching it. If anyone has heard fingernails make that unbearable scraping on the chalkboard, you will know how I felt. It was with his fingers, and my back as the chalkboard. I gritted my teeth, and pulled forward. He seemed to take the hint. I didnt want him touching me at all. It was the first "date" and already my bubble was being invaded. No, this wasnt going to work. I quickly looked at the grandfather clock they had in the living room then looked at my watch and apologetically said I had to leave due to my curfew. It was only ten minutes past 10:00pm. That was the last "date" I went on for the rest of the year.

When I finally became a senior in High School, I knew thats when my real problems would begin. There was Prom to worry about. I didnt know of anyone I could go with. So far as guys went, most had dates, or they were out of my league so to speak. For the most part I wanted nothing to do with them. They were too rich, too cocky, selfish, smoked too much pot, cared only about sex, and had egos the size of Texas. They expected girls to "put out" or get out. Only the mindless females seemed to migrate towards them.

Lots of my friends had found dates that were decent and going to Prom. I wanted to be apart of our one last hurrah for the year. I ended up asking a freshman to Prom. He was in my Study Hall, and he was always joking around and kidding with me. This time I let him know the rules before we went. I told him it would be just a fun outing, and not to expect anything. He was cool with the idea, so we went.

The gang, including me, went all out. We rented a white ten-seater Limo, went out to eat at an Italian restaurant, and then showed up at the Prom. Things went well. I actually didnt have to watch my back or worry about my date making a move on me. He was a real gentleman, but again I didnt feel anything for him beyond a friend.

For reasons I knew early on, but didnt recognize was that guys werent for me. There was never any attraction for one as far back as I can remember. As playmates, guys were wonderful. I enjoyed playing soccer, kickball, and make-believe with a boy when I was in elementary. However, looking at him as a boyfriend was incomprehensible to me. If anything, I was one of guys. Since I was practically the only tomboy in my elementary class, I can remember the countless times I would take a stand against the boys in defense of a fellow girl classmate.

After sixth grade, we moved from Omaha, Nebraska to Kansas City. My seventh grade year I remained a tomboy, picked up a few friends like me, and attached myself to a girl that looked like a blond-haired Christina Ricci (she played Wednesday in Addam's Family). She was the direct opposite of me, which was why it worked, well for some of the time. Dont ask my why I had to have her as my friend, I just did. She was a total girly-girl. Well that probably explains it.

For some reason we got along fine for a while, but then we started acting like a married couple. Instead of having rings on our fingers, we had this "best friend" necklace. Believe me, I shake my head remembering how our friendship revolved around that damn necklace. If she got mad at me, she would toss it at me, ignore me, and want nothing to do with me. Most of the time I had no idea why she got mad at me, and after we worked out our little problems, she would ask to wear the necklace again. I almost want to say that was an embarrassing time in my life, but I know we were really young.

Well things continued like that for a while until I said no more. I had had it with fights, necklaces, and these games that she enjoyed participating in. The nicest part of it was that her parents adored me. The dad and her brothers seemed to enjoy me a lot. Well, what can I say with my cap backwards, baggy shirts, jean shorts that went to my knees, and Nike Air hightops; I was a true tomboy. I didnt play with Barbie, or dollhouses; I played with video games, and toy cars. Sometimes at times I almost believed myself to be a guy.

I had found out from my mom, that it was that year I asked her if I was a lesbian. I personally dont remember asking her that, but I guess I did. Well, of course I wanted to know what she told me.

"No, Danielle, I dont think you are." That was it. Topic dropped. I probably forgot about it, and my focus or attention on it was gone.

Throughout most of eighth grade and high school, the majority of my focus was on school. Dont ask me how that happened. I just remember going to class, and doing well in them. I wasnt an all As kid, I got Bs too. I just had my routine down, and I stuck to it.

High school wasnt all that simple. I noticed all of the cliques from middle school carried over to high school. I didnt want any involvement in that whatsoever. I did have my own group, and anyone that didnt seem to have a group, would warmly be accepted into ours. I knew how it was to be the underdog so to speak, so any chance I had to help that lone person out, I did. Things went well for 2 years until our group got into a major fight. By that time we had about ten people in our group. With that many people I am surprised we got along for 2 years without problems.

I stayed out of this fight. It was over a guy no less. Based on what a few of my friends believed, we left the group. From a group with 10 people to a group of 3, I would have to say was the most disruptive part of my sophomore year.

Junior year wasnt much better. That was the year I told 2 sophomore friends that I "might be gay". Well at the time I thought that they were my friends, and this whole idea about being gay kept circulating through my head, and it was something I had to get off my chest. What shouldve been kept confidential, ended up being spread to four other people that werent suppose to have known; all because of one friend. When I found out that she had told, I had to take back all that I had said. I told everyone that I wasnt and that it was just a random thought that had passed through my head. But I knew different.

In the meantime, I was enraged with the girl that I had told. I ignored her, and wanted nothing more to do with her. At the time she was my one of my best friends. Having my trust betrayed I closed up, and decided never to speak of it again.

Little known to me, this girl would play an important role in my development, as I had to learn the hard way about certain people. When I had told my best friend at the time that I might be gay, she told me it didnt bother her. She would listen intently to what I was saying, tell me it was okay, and it would be okay to talk to her about it. The real truth of the matter surfaced when her, her sister and I were going to be going on a class trip. My supposed best friend told me that she didnt even want me in the same room with her. She didnt say why, just that I would make her feel uncomfortable at times. I honestly had no idea what it was I was doing. She just decided to "tell it to me straight" in a note that she didnt want to be around me, hang out, talk, ride on the same bus, or be in the same room. At the time, I didnt want to lose her friendship, so in exasperation, I wrote her letter explaining that I liked guys, but didn't openly express that. I loved their minds, not so much their bodies. Which is true, but that is only in women. ;) I had lied to her, I realized that, but she also had lied to me. I found out what she was really like when I got a call from her that night telling me she understood and how she wanted to be my friend, again.

Yeah, she understood; so did I. It isnt worth it; especially if you have to feel like you have to change who you are just to benefit others. No one should have to change who they are. Your real friends will see past the outer shell and like you for you, not for who they want you to be. At that point, I knew what I had to do. Our so-called friendship was already built on a volcano about to erupt. It wasnt long before she emotionally drew back, and ignored me. This was nothing new. She had done this time after time. At some point, I would go back to her wanting to make things right, and at another time she would come to me and apologize. This time, I watched as our relationship drifted, and then faded. I knew it was over in my head, but try telling your heart that. I did care about her, despite all the fights, and problems we had. The times we shared I will never regret, and we did have fun at certain times throughout our one-year friendship, but with everything that added up was enough for me to have to stand and walk away.

(Interestingly enough, during that time, I felt like I have written some of my best poetry imaginable, even though most of it was depressing and dark.)

Later in the year, I found out that the other girl that I told had also been sharing the information even after I had told the both of them not to go telling anyone. Maybe it was because she knew my former best friend had already blabbed about it, giving her a reason to do the same. Only this time, she had told a junior friend of mine. I only had two really good junior friends in high school (as a result of the group splitting). Those two good friends were all I had, and now that foundation was being disrupted. Luckily for me, my junior friend stood up for me, and in taking my side, she told off the other girl that I wasnt gay, and not to be spreading rumors. I went along with it, to save face, and to save my name. But if I really was gay, how long could I go on doing this? How was I going to keep this secret that was burning in my mind, pressuring me, and would ultimately change how others would look at me if I couldnt tell anyone?

The problem was, I knew who I was, but accepting it was another issue. I would stand in front of the mirror, and at times I couldnt look at myself. I was so ashamed about who I was, I couldnt face myself. I would stand there, contemplating what I was about to say, but before the words could make their way out, I would feel warm new tears come to my eyes. The idea of being this way and what I would have to face seemed impossible. I would find my body slowly sinking its way down to the floor. Often times I remember thinking about the power that a few sleeping pills held. If I took more than enough, thats all it would take for me to exit this hell. No, it wasnt the answer, and the longer I looked at them, the worse I felt for thinking I could just kill myself after getting this far. No, life is what you make it. You have the power to shape it and mold it into something desirable for yourself. I wasn't about to exit, and leave this world without making some sort of difference in it, if not for myself, for others that would have this path to journey as well.

As I sat on my carpeted floor, both hands covering my face, I silently cried until I looked up at the posters that decorated my walls. My room was covered in Xena posters, a GI Jane poster, Madonna pictures, and a torn out magazine picture of Ellen DeGeneres. As I gazed at Ellen I realized how hard it must have been for her to come out. It was all or nothing for her, and in front of millions of people. Then I looked at Lucy Lawless/Xena, a beautiful talented actress, side by side with Gabrielle, played by Renee O Conner, and I realized that the idea of two women together was normal to me. It seemed so right, intimate and sweet. How could this be so wrong if it felt right to me?

So many times at night I would lay in my bed, gazing up at the ceiling feeling completely and utterly alone. I had no one to confide in, no one I could trust. Back-stabbers and secret tellers surrounded me. There was no one. I counted down the days until graduation knowing that there would be hope for me once I went to college.

There was one thread of salvation that I would cling to, and that was the friends I had made online. In particular there was a girl I had just met, and she was going through the same situations, feelings, and thoughts. To know you arent alone was the only thing that seemed to keep me sane for the remainder of my high school year. Like a lot my friends I had met online, she was in another state, about a five-hour drive away. I would have loved to drive to see her, connect with someone like me, so I wouldnt be so physically alone. But school made it impossible. The only thing I could do at the time was wait for college. When it did come, it meant a new door being opened. Hopefully a door that held more light such as open-mindedness, and opportunity.

College finally did arrive for me. However, I was not attending a big University. I would be attending a community college for a year. Nothing changed except the size of school I was going to. My need for a friend became a craving, constant and relentless. I still found myself alone, and without anyone to understand me.

What seemed as many nights before, I laid in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my pillow saturated from the pain. At that point I quietly talked aloud to any being, entity, or thing that could hear me, but more importantly, I prayed to God to send me someone that was honest, kind, sweet, trustworthy, and someone I could talk to that would not be afraid of who I was. It had been 205 days since I left my best friend, that really wasnt a best friend, but I still missed her.

Approximately a couple months after that, something happened to me that would change my life. It was a typical day at first, I went to all my classes, and then I went to Chemistry, the last class I had for the day. As the professor ended the class, I over heard some girls talking about going haunted housing. I recognized one of them from my Chemistry lab. She had happened to like the T-shirt I was wearing one day, and we talked some after that. Since it was in the middle of October, the haunted houses were open, and that is about the most entertaining thing to do, especially in Kansas City. I decided not to go inviting myself, since the girls were talking amongst themselves.

Then as I was about to leave, I heard my name.

"Danielle? Would you like to go haunted housing with us," asked the girl that had commented on my T-shirt in lab class.

"Yeah, Id love to go, I love haunted houses. They just dont scare me much anymore."

Then she asked where I was headed. I said I was done for the day, but again she suggested that we could work on Chemistry. I quickly agreed, so we went into the lounge area of the SCI (science) building. There were a few tables, a circle of soft seats, and vending machines.

We started working on Chemistry, but we didnt get far. We started talking about things in general, and then I found out that she had been in gymnastics. I too, am a gymnast. I still flip around although I am considered "over the hill" to be a gymnast. We talked about that and then talking about gymnastics made me want to walk on my hands around the room. So we both did until we ended up on the ground laughing at the fact that someone might walk in and see us. By this time, our shoes were off, and we were sitting on the carpeted floor, and we started talking again. She talked about how she used to coach gymnastics, and I told her how I didnt want to anymore, but used to.

At that point my mind was overflowing with curiosity about what sign she was. Since I am big into astrology, I had to know. She told me she was a Libra. My eyes shot open and I smiled big at her. It wasnt what I already knew about Libras it was what I didnt know about them. I never had a Libra as a friend. All I knew was that she was an air sign. Since I am an Aquarius, I too am an air sign, which immediately told me that we were compatible. This of course is not scientific, but I decided to trust astrology on this one. As my mind continued to analyze her, she asked me my sign. I told her, and then continued babbling about my beliefs in astrology.

All of a sudden she had this serious expression on her face. I looked at her questioningly when she asked, "I have to know, what are your views on religion? What do you believe in?"

"Well, actually, its a long story..."

I started to think about how all the churches that I had gone to dont make me feel accepted, and how everyone in the church seemed to be hypocrites. They would confess their sins, or say that they would be a better person, and they would go back to knowingly doing things that were wrong, or not striving to be that better person. Hypocrites. They were all hypocrites to me. I never felt like I was getting anything out of Sunday school, or mass. I never felt like I belonged either. Church was something I began to dislike. Instead I had found my own religion. It was through a spiritual teacher and world-renowned psychic Sylvia Browne. After attending a lecture of hers, and seeing her on the Montel Williams Show several times, I was a strong believer in all that she stood for and taught. I believed church could be found inside your self, and if there was a time I needed to speak with God, I could.

My mind went through this thought in a heartbeat. But not wanting to be too lengthy in my explanation to her, I just told her,

"I believe in Spirituality. I mean, I believe in God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit..."

She looked at me, her eyes gleaming as she interrupted quickly,

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"Oh yes, well, this psychic that I know of. shes not one of those 800 numbers, shes real, but she has talked about reincarnation. I have my beliefs that yes, I am sure I was here once before on Earth, but just in another body at another time."

"OH my GOD! Yes!!!"

This girl that I had talked to briefly in my Chemistry lab, sat next to a couple of times in class, and someone I just had spoken with briefly was now seemingly becoming unbelievable. At that point, she took out this book from her backpack; it was a book on Spirituality. She began talking about how she never felt connected to a church, and how she was walking along some shops in KC when a guy had walked up to her and had given her this book. I knew from Sylvias lectures, that that wasnt a mistake. As we continued to talk about Spirituality and religion, we got off the subject and ended up talking about travel. I love to travel, and after being to Florida, and then California all in one year, I felt as though I just sipped a taste of the wine. However, she had been to Europe, and most of the states, and she still talked about seeing other parts of the world. In particular, we both had fascinations with past civilizations of the world. From the Ancient Egyptians and Pyramids to the Castles in Ireland, we agreed about seeing the same countries.

As she was talking about travel, she mentioned her Dad taking her sister, Janice, traveling as well. She explained, "Janice, one of my younger sisters, has Downs Syndrome."

I sat and stared. I couldnt believe it. I didnt let her finish. Pawing at her, my eyes told her to stop talking for a second. I could feel my eyes become as big as almonds, staring into her eyes.

I placed my hand over my heart, and continued staring, but also nodding at the same time. I finally mustered out, "Me too."

Her jaw dropped. I further explained.

"I too have a sister with Downs Syndrome."

I bet you can guess from that point on, we have been inseparable friends. I never have to worry about how I act, or what I say around her. It took a few weeks to tell her my secret. Again, all I could focus on was those past agonizing relationships with back-stabbers, and the like, so I didnt want to tell her if I felt she wouldnt be able to handle it. However, that night, she wasnt going to let me get away with it.

It was on a sleepover at my house, and of course, we were heavily involved in one of our "girl talks". Somehow, the subject surfaced, and I mentioned that I had a secret, but I wasnt ready to share it. At this point I had only known her 2 weeks, which wasn't even close to the time that I thought was needed to "break the ice" so to speak. I thought she wouldve left it at that. Oh no, was I in for it. Since I mentioned it, she wanted to know. Not being able to avoid it any longer, I told her that the answer was right in front of her, literally. We were camped out, on my bedroom floor, and of course my room is packed with posters of women, Xena mainly, Ellen, Madonna, and a poster of Demi Moore as GI Jane. She scratched her head, trying to figure it out; I was making it into a game, so I wouldnt have to come out and say it. I was not particularly proud of who I was at the time, especially if it meant losing another friend.

After awhile, she said, "Is it Xena?"

"It has something to do with her, yeah..." my voice trailing not wanting to mention the unspeakable.

Finally in desperation she said, "I dont know, tell me."

At this point I felt like I had been perspiring a waterfall. I thanked God for the darkness. I finally was able to mumble out, "All the posters, did you notice I dont have pictures of any guys in here? The posters of Xena; its not only who she is, but what she represents."

With my eyes to the floor, I whispered, "I like girls." There was a pause.

I swallowed. I had finally said it; now to wait for the verdict. My head fell to arms, my eyes closed.

Then, "OH! Was that all?"

I jumped about a mile in the air when she spoke, then putting her hand on my head, she messed my hair and said,

"Aww, thats okay, it really isnt a big deal to me."

Then changing to a more serious tone she said,

"It doesnt bother me at all. It just means we will have to find a girlfriend for you, thats all," ending her comment happily.

I looked at what would be her face in disbelief, but there was barely enough light to see anything. My jaw literally hung open for a while, and I lay there, thinking about it as I heard her turn over, and prepared herself for sleep.

"Well, you're just going to go to bed now?" I asked, confused.

There had to more to this, there just had to be, so far I had not met anyone that acted like I had told them about the weather. No questions, no more comments, it really didnt matter to her. Although I suspected her to act differently come morning. Most people do act differently after I tell them, although they dont realize it.

Well she responded because she knew what I was really thinking,

"Danielle, I am serious, your secret is safe with me...dont worry about it. It really doesnt bother me. Lets go to sleep."

I complied, but was nerve-wracked nonetheless. It took awhile to finally fall to sleep, my heart pounding like hooves of a running horse.

True to her word, it didnt bother her, and it never has.