music, books, love and kindness

I was looking up information on an author for a science fiction class I am taking through work and I discovered that the writer killed herself, in part because she struggled much of her life with having feelings for other women. I guess maybe this hit too close to home for me and I have been overcome with such sadness, more than is probably reasonable or that I can even explain, given that I was much worse off with struggling when I was younger than I am now.

I really do not know many people in my own life who know the despair of struggling with being gay. The only other lesbian I know (and with whom I am not close friends with, but I have had conversations with about all kinds of topics) was warmly accepted by her parents when she came out to them. 

A couple of months back at work I helped a young lady find young adult novels on coming out. I guess she was about sixteen or seventeen. She quietly said thanks and, afterwards, I could not help but notice that the young lady went over to a woman and called her mom and that as she showed her the books, the woman hugged her to her side and told her it was going to be okay. I was so happy for the girl, I truly, truly was, but after that I excused myself from the reference desk and went to the bathroom where I ended up crying for a little bit.

It has been more than a quarter of a century since I first told my parents I am gay and they still will not accept who I am. It may be the 21st century, but some people are still living in the 19th. I am so, so happy for anyone whose parents and other loved ones in their lives wholeheartedly accept them, but I also hope they know how blessed they are to have this.

...

A recent issue of a science fiction magazine I like devoted its main topic to LGBTQ characters and stories, something that just really jumped out at me because science fiction is not always warm and friendly to gay and lesbians (think Orson Scott Card). These two passages are ones I really, really relate to: