I sailed through secondary school without thinking much about my sexuality, assuming I wouldn’t get married. In 12th grade, my feelings for a friend made me realize marriage might not be so bad, especially if it meant being with a woman. Falling deeply in love with my girlfriend made me think about the future, and it seemed daunting. The prospect of life—getting a degree, a job, marriage, kids—felt like a checklist. I feared not figuring out who I wanted to be and be with. My mother noticed my distress, and one evening, just before my physics preboard, I came out to her.

However, the revelation didn’t make me feel better. About a week later, I opened up to my dad, expecting a reaction, but he simply said, “It’s alright.” I knew things must be complicated for him, even though he didn’t express it. I yearned for a heartfelt conversation with my parents. Eventually, my mom initiated more discussions, and after my boards, my dad comforted me, saying, “You can love anyone you want. Don’t try to change yourself.”

That was the turning point, and I stopped crying. Only my mom knows about my girlfriend, and although she calls her my “friend,” she’s supportive and kind when she visits. I understand that the coming-out process isn’t over, but I’m now confident that my parents will accept me for who I am.