This Past Month and To Come Out or Not to Come Out?

     A month after taking my practical test I am almost employed as an EMT.  It’s been a frustrating wait.  First I waited for NREMT to approve my practicals.  That took a week.  Then I had to wait until my NREMT card came in the mail which took four days.  Then I had to go fill out paperwork.  Then I had to wait for one state to approve me.  After that I had to make an appointment and drive an hour to get my other state’s license.  Of course once I had all my certifications I had to apply to my company again.  It took a few days for them to call me back for the interview.  Finally I had the FIRST part of the interview this Tuesday.  The second part is this upcoming week and includes a multiple choice test, a fitness test, and of course a drug test.  Maybe finally then I will be hired on and I can start to use the skills I’ve been taught.

     The last thing for now is that I am considering coming out in a big way.  I’ve considered writing a long Facebook note about it and then letting the chips fall where they may.  I don’t want my baby brother, who is gay himself, feel like he has to hide who he is nor should he be ashamed of being gay.  (Though I frankly want him to hide until he graduates from his high school which is in a deep south state.)  But if I don’t want my brother to feel ashamed, then I have to apply that to myself.  I’m sick of pretending I am something I’m not.  Plus I don’t think most people would care…well except for maybe my ex-sorority sisters. 

     The only thing keeping me from posting the note is that I’m scared and that I haven’t been able to figure out how to end my story.  Granted I could just tell people I’m gay in person one by one, but I have this tendency to either gloss over the fact I’m gay or lie about it when confronted.  I think I’d be braver behind a computer than in person.  Anyone close to me in this city knows I’m gay and I’m pretty much living open in life.  It’s those people outside of the city who may be guessing but don’t truly know anything who this note would be for.

      Sometimes feel like a fraud when it comes to being gay.  I haven’t ever kissed a girl.  Certainly I’ve never had sex with them.  But then again I am only attracted to women.  I only want to kiss women.  I just lack the game/confidence to follow through with things.  I have this irrational fear that I will come out and then suddenly I’ll fall in love with a guy.  But it’s laughable.  If I’m not gay then I am more likely to be asexual than straight.  I absolutely know I am not straight.  Why am I so scared of posting this note? 

     Right now I envy my friends who have known they were gay for a long time and besides high school never had to live or lie about being someone different.  Sigh.  I guess we all have our journeys which we must make.  This is mine.

Love her and love this song.

Coming Out to My Church Friends

     Last month I had made a promise that I would at the new gay ministry group that started up, to come out and to tell my brother’s story (which can be read here).  Since then I have come out to one of my church friends, by way of Facebook message since I couldn’t get the words out any other way.  This church friend, D, promised me she would support me at the ministry group meeting.

     When I arrived, immediately I started to feel my heart beat faster.  Last month there were only six people who showed up.  This month there were about twenty.  I’m not so good at doing the emotional thing in general, particularly when there is more than one other person listening.  I sat next to D, and tried to calm my heart down.  I was fine telling strangers, even the church friends of mine who came, but when a few ministers of my church came in, I thought my heart was going to break from my chest.

     I was volunteered to go first, but I could barely think, so I pledged to share later.  I had hoped that after listening to a few shares, my heart would ease up, but it didn’t.  I could see my shirt moving from my heart beating so hard.  I was worried I was going to pass out.  Nothing was helping.  Finally my friend, D, gave her own share and made sure everyone in the room knew she was there “to support them”.  A secret message saying D was there for me.  It was only then after taking a few deep breaths that I volunteered to share.

     I won’t lie.  It was rough.  I couldn’t do anything but stare at my shoes and talk, and even then my words fell on top each other.  I quickly came out in the beginning, and then transitioned equally quickly to the story about my brother.  I started to get choked up when talking about him and the attempted suicide.  I didn’t cry, but it was a near thing.  I stopped before I completely lost it, and then stared at the floor some more. 

     If there was a sense of relief, I don’t think I felt it.  Instead I felt really shaky and uncomfortable, so much so that I still couldn’t look anyone in the eye.  So after the next share was done, I went to the bathroom and just stood and breathed until I was in control and not my emotions.  Though I still felt shaky I was better enough that I could look everyone in the eye and listen to the rest of the shares.

     After the meeting was over, my church friend, B, came over and hugged me tightly.  He was very supportive, as well as my friend D and my minister.  I even received support from strangers.  The leader of the ministry group was especially moved by my share, later telling me I “inspired him”.  But what struck me most was people calling me brave and telling me they were proud of me.  It felt weird.  I’m not brave and what have I’ve done to be proud of: saying words?  Finally coming out?  Probably.

     Though I was blessed by supportive, wonderful friends, I don’t think I’ll be coming out again anytime soon.  I was shaky for a whole hour after and I hate feeling that way.  I just wish my church friends would tell the rest of my church friends, so I don’t have to. 

     But yay for me getting through this and for saying words.  Woo words!  

QBP: "Never apologize for showing feeling.  When you do so, you apologize for the truth." -Benjamin Disraeli

comic source

Repairing what has been broken

     Recently a seminary student who attends my church started up a new ministry.  A ministry specifically for gay people.  The goal of the ministry: to help those who have been wounded by the hate “Christians” have inflicted upon them.  It’s also a place where gay people in the church and in the outside world are welcome to enjoy community.

     The first meeting of the ministry was this past Sunday.  Though the invitation to the meeting was extended to all regardless of sexual orientation, I was the only one there who was not openly gay.  One of my church friends was there and I think he assumed I was there because of my brother being gay.  That’s half the reason why I attended.  I want to help young and older gay people know that God loves them, and that they are loved.  I want them to know that the loudest voices in their lives aren’t the only ones. 

     I wanted to tell my story, my brother’s story.  But I wasn’t ready.  I’m the type who has to think before she speaks.  However my thoughts weren’t cooperating.  My mind was jumble of words and feelings.  So instead I listened to the stories of the others.

     Most of them grew up in conservative churches.  They knew they were gay from a young age, but feared coming out.  For good reason.  Several were socially isolated when they came out, or forced to go to reparative therapy if they wished to continue attending.  All these people who loved and supported them were gone in a single instant. 

     One gay man was planning on becoming a youth minister, but when his home church found out he was barred from ever working with youth again.  Another had his mother go ballistic and said every mean thing you should never say to your son.  Each story more powerful than the last.  Haters make me insane sometimes.  Why break down, when you can build up?      

     When the time came for prayer requests I put forth my baby brother’s name.  I know he doesn’t think much of prayer.  Sometimes I too debate its efficacy, but he should know that even though these people don’t know him like I know him, that they care.  

     The next meeting is next month.  There I will tell my story.  I will come out, and be brave, because my brother is brave every day.  Every day that he has to walk the halls of his high school, he is brave.  I will tell his story, so that they understand the importance of such a group like this.  So that maybe, just maybe we can save young gay lives like my brother's.

QBP: "Dear, America. When you tell Gay Americans that they can’t serve their country openly, or marry the person that they love, you're telling that to kids too. Don’t be fuckin shocked and wonder where all these bullies are coming from that are torching young kids and driving them to kill themselves because they’re different. They learned it from watching you." -Sarah Silverman

 pic source

When the $#!^ gets Real

     Several months ago I got a call from my brother and panicked.  My brothers never call me unless something horrible has happened/is happening.  My baby brother, his young voice breaking, said, “I need to tell you something.”  “Of course, anything,” I replied.  “I think I’m gay.”  I about burst out laughing, but stop myself.  I didn’t want to be insensitive.  I had been expecting something dire, and instead it was something wonderful. 

     Here was my youngest brother figuring out and owning something ten years earlier than myself.  I thought of all the wonderful experiences that awaited my brother, now that he was armed with that knowledge.  Of course as brave as he was I had to tell him I shared similar feelings, which came as a bit of a shock, but he took it in stride. 

     The people who know me could tell you one thing for certain about me.  The most important people in my life are my brothers.  Particularly my baby brother who I raised when my parents decided they were too burdened with their own life issues to do it themselves.  I am fiercely protective of him. 

     Anyways flash forward to the beginning of last month.  I get a call late at night from my brothers.  They’re in tears, which freaked me out.  My older younger brother never cries.  Some family shit was going down, and all I could do from several states away was try comforting them.  Offer platitudes.  Tell them I love them.  All this emotion brought something out in my baby brother.  He had something else to tell me.  He admitted to attempting suicide.

     I don’t think I’ve ever felt as hurt as I did right then.  Sure I followed the gay teen suicides, but for whatever reason I felt my baby brother was safe.  He had my other brother; he had me.  He wasn’t even out at his high school.  He didn’t read as gay.  He’d be safe from the bullying.  I can’t believe I was that stupid to think that way.  He is surrounded by bullying.  He’s not deaf.  He hears all the unkind things said and hate spewed.  He isn’t going to a liberal high school up north like I did.  He’s deep in hate territory, where he doesn’t need to be open about being gay to feel hated.  Add to that all the family crap, and the fact that he’s a teenager and damn. 

     This hate…it needs to stop now.  I don’t know how I’m going to make it better.  I don’t know if I can.  But I have to try.  Even the threat of losing my brother devastates me.  I can’t imagine how all the families of suicide victims feel.

     I feel my anger rising and I can’t even think straight anymore, so angry am I at “Christians” who spread such a message of hate and inequality.  How dare they invoke the name of God and Jesus in their vile filth!  I have to end this post now for fear of losing it.