Next, I told my mother. She wasn't shocked. She knew me too well to be surprised. She listened, then simply told me to be careful and to be happy. Her acceptance wasn't loud or dramatic, but it was enough.
The hardest part, though, was telling my grandmother and the rest of my relatives. I knew my grandmother's reaction would be different. She had always envisioned her beloved granddaughter with a man, not a woman. It was hard for her to grasp. I understood the shock, the denial, because it wasn't what she was used to, what she was taught to expect. I watched her struggle with it, yet over time, she came to speak to me about my relationship. She never said it aloud, but I could tell she had learned to accept it in her own quiet way.
As for the rest of my family, they had mixed reactions. Some were okay with it, others said nothing at all. But at that point, I didn't care anymore. What mattered to me was that I was happy, that I had chosen the person I loved and was finally being true to myself.
I introduced her to my family. She was the first person I showed to my family, and I started posting pictures of us on my social media. It wasn't about seeking approval from others - it was about showing her that I was serious about us. It wasn't about being validated by the world, but about being honest with myself.
I knew that people would look at us and think we weren't the "normal" kind of couple, but the truth was, it didn't matter. What mattered was that I had the freedom to love her openly, and that I was choosing to live my truth, no matter how others saw it.
My friends had mixed reactions. Some were shocked, some were disappointed, and others were happy for me. There were those who said, "It's a sin." To them, I said nothing. But in my heart, if loving her was a sin, I would kneel before God and ask for forgiveness. Even if it meant doing it for the rest of my life, I would gladly ask.
Because I loved her. And that was enough.