I was homeschooled, but my foster brothers elementary school gym teacher was a powerfully lesbian lesbian woman with a flat top haircut and a penchant for flannel in the middle of the summer in coastal Virginia. She lived a few doors down from us, and would come by occasionally for cookouts and stuff. I loved her so much, she was amazing. She was also one of the first people to clock me as gay. I didn’t even know I was gay, but I still distinctly remember her giving me a hug one day when this boy I wanted to be friends with told me he didn’t want to be friends with me. Looking back, it was so obviously a crush, but I didn’t realize it then. She was outside when she overheard the two of us, we’d been riding bikes. She hugged me, told me that not everyone can love everyone, and that it was okay. I’d find more and better friends, and when I got older, I’d be able to tell who the good ones were. It was like a pre gay pep talk, and she was so kind.