Page 15

It was just before I started my freshman year at high school that I finally found peace in being non-binary.

“So instead of referring to you as ‘he’ or ‘she’, would you feel better if we referred to you as ‘they’?” my dad asked.

We were in his study, reading about non-binary individuals.

The book I had in front of me had a lot of language that I wasn’t familiar with yet, but I was completely absorbed.

The LGBTQ center had to order it in. It discussed ancient cultures that thrived before colonization and didn’t adhere to traditional gender binaries.

I looked up from the book and responded to my dad.

“Could you test it out on me?”

My dad nodded, sat back in his seat, and pushed his reading glasses up his nose. “This is my youngest child, Taylor. They go to Orange Grove High School, and they like to play soccer and pull pranks on their older brother.”

Something warm and safe settled in my chest.

All I had to do was nod my head, and the rest was history.

Near the end of high school, after discovering that I wasn’t just attracted to women, but a variety of people I vibed with, I formally came out to my family as pansexual. When I did, my parents and brother just nodded at me.

“Makes sense,” Tucker had told me, “You never cared what people looked like or what they identified as. But you’ve always cared about someone’s character.”

My dating history wasn’t a thing my parents balked at. When I told them in my late twenties that I most likely wouldn’t get married like Tucker, or have kids, they told me as long as I lived a happy life, that’s all that mattered to them.

I could be open with them about who I was dating, how casual it was, etc. They never became those parents who were constantly asking their single kids, “When are you going to settle down?” or “Don’t you feel lonely?”

They were already part of my support team.

I didn’t need a monogamous romantic partner to not feel lonely.

My mom and dad understood that. They respected and trusted me to make my own judgments about romance, or the lack of romance. They were there if I had questions or just needed to vent. They never pushed me to get married or not. Perfectly supportive. Always loving.

Hell, I had it better off growing up enby and queer with my parents than Beck had it growing up straight with her religious parents.

To my knowledge, Beck had only spoken to her parents once in the last decade because of the toxic expectations they continued to put on her in the name of their religion.

“Taylor?” My mom pressed.

I blinked back to the present, watching my parents gather food for us to sit and eat at the kitchen table.

“One sec,” I lifted a finger as I followed them to the dining room, opening Nicole’s text.

Nicole: Are you free tonight?

Hell yeah!

Me: Free as a bird. Want to come over?

“Is this someone new you’re seeing?” My dad asked once we all got settled at the table.

“Yeah,” I replied, resting my phone screen while I stabbed my salad with my fork, “We’re making plans for tonight.”

“Oh, what are you two going to do?”

In response, I silently chewed my food and stared at my mother with one raised eyebrow until it clicked.

“Oh, geez,” she chuckled to herself, rolling her eyes as she continued, “That’s what I get for asking.”

I lifted a shoulder as my dad snorted and took a bite of his burger, which resulted in half of it being gone.

“Hey…” I took another bite of food and thought for a moment before I decided to be bold and ask, “…Did you two ever feel disappointed that I never got married or settled down?”

Both of them lifted their gazes from their plates to give me confused and alarmed expressions. The divot between my dad’s dark eyebrows deepened dramatically, whereas my mom’s eyes widened behind her frames.

“What? No, honey.” My mom reached out and rested her hand on my arm. “Did we ever make you feel that way?”

“No, not at all.” I lifted a shoulder, “I guess I was just curious. We’ve never really had a deep conversation about it,” I took a sip from the can of soda my parents set out for this meal, “I just told you one day that I wasn’t interested in long-term relationships, and you both just, like, accepted that. ”

My dad hesitated before taking his next bite of salad, his fork hung halfway between the table and his mouth as he asked, “Did—did you want us to question you some more?”

My mom turned to look at me, waiting for my answer.

“No,” I shook my head, “I love how you both trusted me to know what I want for myself. That you never pressured me one way or the other,” I lifted my shoulder again, “But that doesn’t mean you never had your own feelings about it.”

They let my words hang over the table for a moment.

My parents shared another look, and part of me felt a little envious over how they could have silent conversations with each other so easily like this.

My brother and I were pretty good at predicting what the other was going to say, but my parents had a connection that was deeper than I could fathom.

“I guess…” My mom set her fork down and folded her hands on the table in front of her, leaning closer to me, “Your father and I got extremely lucky. We found each other so young, and we grew up together. Not everyone gets to have that, whether they ‘settle down’ or not.” My mom lifted her fingers in air quotes.

“So when your father and I heard you say you weren’t going to force anything like that to happen, and that you felt confident in that decision to live your best single life, we felt a little bit of relief. ”

I raised my eyebrows, “Why relief?”

“Taylor.” My dad rested his elbows on the table as he folded his hands under his chin, “You’ve known what you wanted since the day you were born.

” He gave me a warm smile, the same one he’d been giving me for as long as I could remember.

“You haven’t made a lot of decisions that you’ve regretted in your life—big decisions, at least.”

I smirked, remembering my stupid teenage years when my brother and I would get into typical teenage trouble.

“It’s easy for young people to feel like they need to follow a step-by-step guide to thrive and be happy. Society does its hardest to convince people that they won’t be happy unless they do A, B, and C. You, however, have always seemed immune to that.”

I nodded at that because that’s how I’ve felt, too.

“So that’s why you felt relieved to hear me proclaim I was intentionally single?”

“We knew that nobody could pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

So, when you said you weren’t going to settle down and that you were happy, well, doing what you do,” my mom continued, raising her eyebrows at me, “we felt relieved that you figured that out so young. If more people were as confident in themselves and their decisions as you are, I feel like the world would be a little less complicated.”

I smiled at her, “That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s true.” She sat straighter in her seat and started focusing on her food again.

“What if I ended up changing my mind?” I asked.

That was what I had been thinking about ever since that kiss I shared with Nicole at the taco bar.

This feeling of attachment. This feeling of wanting to be near her.

Wondering what she was up to. The intoxicating thrill of learning that she liked me sexually, too.

I was expecting my parents to pause dramatically at my question.

Instead, they continued to eat as if this wasn’t a big deal to them at all.

I was silly for expecting anything else.

“People are allowed to change their mind, Taylor,” my dad spoke around his mouthful of turkey burger, “If you end up finding someone you want to settle down with, they must be special.”

Shrugging, I thought about his words some more.

You hardly know Nicole , I reminded myself.

It was true, but—not to sound like Beck—I still felt something there. Something between us that I didn’t think I had truly experienced until now.

Something scary, but exciting at the same time.

“Is Nicole someone special?” my mom asked, staring at my phone as it buzzed on the table.

I blushed, feeling like she was reading my mind.

“It’s still very new, but…” I tilted my head back and forth, “…I think I really like her.”

You hooked up one single time, calm the fuck down, T.

You know what, who the hell cares? Adam fell in love with Beck because he saw her laugh one single time before she even knew he existed. Nothing matters .

“Well, I hope you two have fun tonight.” My mom hummed as she turned to my dad to ask about his day. While they started talking about his thrilling day of crunching numbers at the accounting firm he worked at, I finally read Nicole’s text.

Nicole: Send me your address.