Politics, social roles, labels, struggle, pride, and respect... those were things your mom had taught you from a young age. Even though she raised you with a spiritual foundation, Taylor always believed that people were more than any belief system. She had made sure you understood that.

That’s why, when you had a little “self-discovery moment” at a party—with one of your best friends, no less—you knew deep down you had nothing to fear from her. Still, you kept it to yourself.

What started as playful curiosity eventually grew into something real. A relationship. And right around your six months anniversary, June rolled in. With it came the annual Pride March in New York City. Your girlfriend was beyond excited to go. You’d never been to any kind of march in your life—but you wanted to be there for her.

The only question was… how to tell your mom? You knew you couldn’t just sneak off. Sooner or later, the press would find out. And you never liked lying to her—not really.

So, a few weeks before the parade, you decided to just do it. You sat down across from her, your fingers fidgeting, your heart somewhere between your stomach and your throat. You stared at her in silence for a long moment.

Taylor:"Haha, sweetheart? Something on your mind? Do you need to talk?"