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Nothing 'bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now, so you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal.
The poster is your first conscious act of rebellion. Lillian always stripped everything from your life that ever seemed to make you smile but you managed to hide this one in your school bag as you creeped your way up the stairs. You waited until it was the middle of the night to stick it up on your wall, all uneven and bent, tape sticking out at all the corners, but it was yours .
Lillian took so many things from you, your smile, your laughter, your accent punished out of you like a stain on the family. A sign that something was different. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
You always felt so wrong. You tried so hard to fit in, ate all the right food, wore all the right clothes, stood by her side as your shoulder cramped under the weight of her hand, her fingers curling into your skin like a warning. You never let yourself buckle.
But you heard the girls at school talking about the boybands they had on their walls, the ones they pretended to kiss at night, the crushes that never seemed to make sense to you. But you liked the idea of the posters, something to see when you woke up in the morning, to watch over you as you prepared for the day.
Someone to whisper secrets to at night. Maybe then someone would finally listen to what you had to say.
You whispered one that night, as you stared at the crinkled paper on the wall, I think I like girls.
You held a breath as if waiting for Lillian to burst into the room at the confession, then let yourself relax into the pillows, a smile finally creeping its way back onto your face.
In the morning, the poster is gone and you’re being sent away to a private boarding school on the other side of the country with a split lip and a black eye hidden beneath a thick layer of make-up. You pack your bags and you don’t look back.
You never felt at home in that house anyway.
-
You talk of the pain like it’s all alright, but I know that a piece of you is dead inside.
You’re at college and your friends are trading stories of the worst escapades they pulled off as teenagers. They’re rolling on the floor laughing as one of them tells the story of being stuck in the window, sneaking back into the house after a party, their mother finding them red-handed. You’re laughing along and just a little bit drunk, and high on the feeling of finally having real friends for the first time.
You think about how funny it would be if you decide to tell one of your stories. You’ve got them beat, you think, as you remember the angriest you’ve ever seen Lillian.
You find your voice and you start to tell them of your mother seeing a picture of you kissing a girl. You don’t even know where she got it from, but at that point, you realized that she found out everything anyway so it was so use being surprised. She pulled you out of your room during your summer holidays and twisted your arm behind you at the top of the stairs.
You still remember the feeling of your heart thumping in your chest, feeling it in the back of your throat.
She leaned in close to your ears and demanded you to renounce your ‘lesbianism’ and you felt a small sense of satisfaction as you smiled and told her that you were ‘a fuckin dyke’ and that she could never change that.. The one and only time you ever cursed in front of her.
There was no chance to revel in her shocked gasp as you felt yourself pitch forward, legs trapped under you, hand fighting its way to break your fall.
You’re still chucking as you finish the story, but it dies on your lips as you realize that no one else is laughing. They’re all staring at you with horror, some with strange looks mixed with pity and disdain.
“Jeez Luthor, that’s not fucking normal,” you hear a voice say, but at this point your vision is blurry but you can’t blame it on the drink so you tell them that you’re drunk and you didn’t really mean that and stumble out of the room.
You found your way to your dorm and sat back on your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling as you thought back to that day.
You had actually felt quite proud. Knowing you got under Lillian’s skin like that, the acknowledgement that she couldn’t make you into whatever she wanted.
You wore the cast like a badge of honour and you kissed more girls that year than you ever did before. You put pictures of all the L word characters in your dorm room and you never felt more queer in your life.
You kinda felt like you earned it. The pride that you survived it.
You feel a tear roll down your cheek as you think that you would’ve preferred a mother that loved you. You just might be too broken to love.
-
You can let it go
You start therapy in your second year at university. Two weeks after what you’ve dubbed the “drunken story incident” you tell yourself you just want to be normal.
You google the best therapist for adults dealing with childhood trauma and you ask her to fix you. She tells you she doesn’t fix people and you almost walk out.
She tells you that you’re not broken.
You sit back down again.
You tell her she doesn’t understand, you don’t know how to be a normal person, you’ve found yourself stuck in a living caricature of what Lillian tried to turn you into, always falling short. You don’t even know who you want to be. Much less how to be a good one.
You’re not a real Luthor, you know that. But you don’t know who else to try to be.
She tells you that you don’t have to try to be anything. You don’t need to prove your existence to anyone, much less yourself.
You go back the next week. You start to heal. You learn to let it go.
-
You can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family 'cause they never showed you love. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.
You’re rebranding Luthorcorp.
You vow to make yourself a force of good, to go against the Luthor name, to make a name for yourself. It’s hard, but you hear Sam’s voice in your head telling you congratulations as you swing Ruby around in your arms and you finally feel like you can do it. You can learn to be happy.
You’re only twenty but you feel a hundred years older and twelve years old at the same time.
You never got to be a kid but you find yourself growing up anyway. You host galas and drink champagne and let yourself be waltzed around the room and you know you’ve made it.
You haven’t spoken to Lillian since you accepted the role of CEO and you’ve never been happier.
You just wish it wouldn’t feel so empty.
-
You're just in time, make your tea and your toast. You framed all your posters and dyed your clothes.
You wake up in the morning to golden hair at the back of your neck, strong arms circling your waist and you’ve never felt safer. You breathe in her scent and it smells like home. Your eyes flutter close again as you feel yourself drift back off to sleep, nothing to worry about as long as she was here.
The next time your eyes flutter open is to a tray of food being set down on the bed, the smell of coffee rousing you awake. Kara sits herself down next to you and you feel a rush of appreciation for the beautiful woman you get to call yours.
The assorted food you can tell she flew all over the world to get pales in comparison to the smile she sends your way, the kiss sweeter than anything you could find on the tray.
You spend the day lazing away, Kara putting a ban on all work emails on Sundays and you try to protest but you would rather spend every minute with her if you could.
You’ve learnt how to take it slow. You don’t need to prove your worth.
The next day after work you come home to a package at your door.
You take out the poster and the frame and you put it all together. It feels real now. Permanent.
You hang it above your bed and it feels full circle.
-
You can start a family who will always show you love. You don't have to be sorry for doin' it on your own.
You never had a sister before, but suddenly you’ve gained two. You never had anyone’s protective hand around yours until Kara. Through all the movies, and late dinners, and game nights, and being dragged out of your office for some much needed sleep, the inside jokes and knowing looks- you realize you have a family.
Just a little one, built from scraps. All missing parts, and broken pieces but it’s yours. And it feels so good.
Your heart clenches sometimes when you think about little Lena, all alone in a mansion, no one to hold her hand and you know that you’re doing this for her.
Alex and Maggie seemed to have formed themselves the Lena Luthor Protection Squad and you find yourself growing just as protective over them as well. It’s different, it’s new. It’s lovely.
You feel it growing in your chest, this fierce love.
The Danvers sisters have given you so much, most of all this sense of belonging.
Lillian's guilt trips don’t work on you anymore. You don’t have to be sorry for creating your own family, one that will always have your back. One that you never have to second guess if they love you.
One that you can love yourself in.