Coming out in the south is, for most gays, the most terrifying experience in the world. But, on the contrary, being out can mean coming to terms with your identity: a very important step towards adulthood.
I took this step very early in life, and I immediately regretted it:
"I used to think it was a phase
cause my mom saw the charcoal circles on my eyes
and below them she saw a hit of a smile
but i was hurting inside
and i didn’t know why
my culture was making a mockery of the conflict I had to hide
it was ok to be gay then
if you were pale and frail and way too thin
or butch and buff
but never if you were me
the girl in the back just floating between
I was never the type to fight so I just pretended that I didn’t want to end my life.
because if you were suicidal back then it was all part of a trend
and not actual pain
I couldn’t defend to my mother the thousands of slits on my wrist
because the girl next door declared it a fashion statement
and so I blackened the way I dressed
and I hid the tiny rainbow painted on my chest
and I hid my sexuality from the impostors who made it hard to seem genuine
and foster a positive community around being gay
but finally I came out when highschool began and the girls were all scared I’d stare at them…
unbeknownst to their chuckles in the locker room, I kissed a girl among them in her childhood room
And it went on like that. the same people who would pretend to laugh were curious
They experimented with my heart and the space between my thighs, but never did they truly open their eyes.
I was gay before it was okay and the world was scared of me
I thought that that fear would be the worst of my exclusion."
But after I came out, I realized very soon that It gets better. IT HAS TO. So, for the rest of high school, I didn't date any more girls. Like most gays at that age, I sat in silence, waiting for college to save me.
It did:
"Everyday is like a parade-
In her honor
Look-
at the girl-
with the skin of glass.
She is fragile, but below she houses a thin layer of gold
painted in glitter and every visible color
She is what every child like her
Wants to be-
Proud.
She speaks out to an uncaring crowd
And no one lynches her for it
Housed in glass, she flinches at the stones thrown,
But college has granted her a fence taller than they can throw
A fence built solely out of the strongest essence-
Knowledge.
And the taller it gets, the prouder she stands
For the children with death dug into their wrists
Unknowingly, she represents College
An ellis island for gays-
We all immigrate into adulthood with her-
Them
Him
Standing as a shining trophy.
She is what awaits you,
And for some of us,
She is you."
The wait was worth it. I now am able to surround myself with peers who could care less what my sexuality is. I can now live comfortably as a pansexual without being afraid of criticism.
This is for you- the beautiful person hiding who you are behind a curtain of judgement. It gets better, and I am proof.
