Gemela & #1 Amiga | Living with Borderline Personality Disorder

Spanish word meaning: “twin sister”

Dear Gemela,

I love you.

You are like a sister to me.

Not “like” a sister,

My twin sister.

Always on my side,

Against anyone who’s not.

You always have been.

Even since we met,

Since I was a sad,


Broken child.

You were the bright light,

The brightness in Utah’s clouds.

Before you were my sister,

You were my first friend.

Not just in Utah,

But ever.

No one I met,

No one I spent time with,

I ever considered a friend.

No one.

Until you.


Let me explain . . .

You were genuinely a pure soul —

Nothing BPD could manipulate —

Not without ruining you.

Borderline even agreed with me,

You were too lovely to ruin.

You were so kind,

So good.

You hold the very first memory I have —

First feeling, of someone non-threatening.

You were loving towards me,

Even when I couldn’t feel love.

You defended me from others,

When I deserved their ire.

So why would I hurt you?

Even in my crazy mind,

I made an exception for you.

I allowed you in…

To some extent.

To more extent than anyone else,

Anymore than a LDS person ever could.

No one at the time even got close.

But I still didn’t tell you when Borderline appeared.

I didn’t tell you about Bipolar either.

But I almost told you I’m a lesbian.

It was the only thing I was sure of,

It was sinful thoughts,

But at least I knew they were real.

Not weird concepts I couldn’t find words for.

My other sinful thoughts,

They didn’t cause positive emotions,

None at all.

They didn’t turn into physical feelings,

Not like arousal.

Borderline & Bipolar were both in my head,

But my sexuality was something real.

Something I could make you understand.

If I could only find the right words,

The right way to phrase it,

The right time to tell you.

But Every. 



I tried.

I couldn’t.

How could I explain it to you when the LDS church beat me to it?

How could I re-explain my homosexuality in a way you’d understand it?

Remember, when we were much younger,

And you were the “rebellious” one at church?

That was one of the reasons I trusted you,

That showed me you had your own thoughts.

Your own feelings,

Your own views.

I took your resistance to strict LDS guidelines as a sign.

A sign you might not hate me if you realized the truth.

But I still couldn’t tell you.

There was too much at stake.

If you reacted badly…

The game would be over,

I would lose.

Everyone would know.

I couldn’t tell you then, 

But please don’t misunderstand:

You kept me alive for 8+ years in Utah.

You allowed my crazy mind to keep going.

You inspired me to keep on trying,

Not end it all.

For that,

And for your continual love since then,

I am forever grateful.

I always wondered if you knew I was hiding.

You were the closest to my “thoughts,”

You knew the most about my feelings.

You were there for all the developments.

Not just my growing psychosis,

But my natural sexual attraction,

Begging to break free of the trauma.

We became women together,

As twins often do!

Our crushes turned into kisses,

Our kisses turned into romance,

Our romances turned into sexual desire.

Well, one of us.

One of us showed the development.

You shared yours with me,

Your normal, heterosexual desires.

All the exciting stages of adolescence,

Followed stronger by those in adulthood.

But I couldn’t tell you the same way,

Not the way you told me about boys.

I knew I never could.

So I lied.

I pretended.

I pretended to like boys so you wouldn’t notice.

You wouldn’t realize something was strange. 

You wouldn’t notice something was wrong.

My Dear L,

I hope this all makes sense to you,

Possibly shed light on odd memories.

I always wanted to tell you the truth.

Try to make you understand.

I almost did many,


Many, times.

But — I just couldn’t.

I couldn’t handle the possibilities,

The ones so far out of my control.

I couldn’t handle you turning from me,

Not when you stood by me so long.

I couldn’t handle your disgust,

Not yours.

I could take it from the others,

Even other “friends” of mine,

But not yours.

You scared me.

Please try to understand,

You did nothing,

Said nothing,


Nothing — to warrant this.

Warrant my constant,

Unfair suspicions of you.

Always waiting for it,

The day you’d turn on me.

It was all in my mind,

But to me it was real.

You were my first friend in Utah,

Not by actual number,

But in quality,

In worth,

In actuality.

You were the only one,

The only one I wanted —

Needed — to hold onto.

Past all my delusions,

Past my unholy desires,

Past all my pain,

I still wanted your friendship.

But it scared me.

You were part of the religion…

The one that changed my brain.

There was a chance you’d turn on me,

That you’d turn me over to them.

I love you L,

I hope this letter doesn’t change anything.

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