It’s hard to be a 19-year-old queer girl in India. This is my story. My everyday struggle.
I realised that I was not straight when I was 16—right after 10th grade. I called my best friend and gave her some incomplete information so that I could hear her say that I didn’t, in fact, like girls. I tried to manipulate the information and tried to convince myself that maybe I felt really close to a girl and that I had ‘sisterly’ feelings towards her. I convinced myself that I was probably overthinking it, and the evidence of me being straight was in the fact that I liked a boy in the 7th grade. My friend responded in the way I wanted her to. She too said that it was just me being me—an over thinker. But deep down I knew this didn’t make sense, and I knew I was not satisfied with this answer. 
I went to an upper-class, upper-caste school where people used an ethically elitist attitude to show off how ‘progressive’ they were, but still used the word “gay” as a slur, as a bad word. My closest friends in the whole world regularly commented on my choice of attire—my hair, my muscular body, and strength, and took the liberty to label me as a ‘weirdo’. A weirdo that they chose to accept. I went around feeling privileged to have such friends who accepted me ‘despite’ my shortcomings and cracks.
I belong to a family whose emotional functionality depends on mine. I’m the only child and have always felt the pressure to be perfect for my perfect parents.
So when I was ‘suspicious’ of my sexuality, I was scared, petrified. Petrified of my own self. I was scared I was going to lose everyone and everything overnight. I thought I should’ve built the the courage to tell my best friend. I thought it would help me. I told her the exact way I felt about a girl. My friend then responded in a way I expected her to respond. She said, “Oh my god! You’re gay! It makes complete sense. Just look at the way you dress, and speak! Just look at your personality.” I didn’t realise what effect this response had on me until much later. I was just happy that she didn’t cut off our friendship, that she didn’t leave me.
After a year or so, I found the courage to tell the rest of my friends. All of them reacted in different ways. One of my friends said that I shouldn’t worry because I had friends who were willing to accept me even if I was gay. One said that he was very happy to cross one item off his bucket liste gay best friend. One asked me if I had just given up on men and boys.
This was three months ago. They’ve continued to question me with various interesting questions. “Are you scared of being with a man? Not all men are bad!”, “You are so lucky you don’t have to handle any boy troubles! You’re so privileged!”, “You’re practically a bro! It’s so cool to be friends with you, bro.” One of my best friends has this habit of grabbing my butt and then then one of my breasts and then saying, “Butt grab! Boob grab!” I’ve always hated this and I keep telling myself that she doesn’t mean any harm. Maybe I’m scared to tell her. So I generally keep quiet.
For a very brave, courageous, outspoken person, I can’t speak up against these questions. I can’t get myself to confront them. But I do respond to them in my own way. In my own head. I want to scream and say, “Hey! No. I’m not scared of being with a man. I know not all men are bad. Some of the people I really love from the bottom of my heart and really look up to are men. No. I’m not a bro! I’m a very proud woman and love every part of my being. I understand your struggles, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have any. Please stop grabbing me. I do not like that, and you don’t have the liberty to go around grabbing people without their consent. Even if you are a girl. This rule applies to people of all genders and all sexualities. I’m not attracted to each and every woman I see, just like you are not attracted to each and every man you see walking down the street.”
I understand it’s hard imagining something you haven’t experienced or you don’t go through personally. But that is what empathy is all about. Every word you say, every one of your reactions have thousands of ripple effects. Every word that comes out of your mouth is heard. Be kind and think about what you’re saying. You may not mean it. But your intent doesn’t reduce the burning effect of your words. Think twice before speaking. That’s the least you could do.