Because I'm Sure We've All Gone Through This

I have such awesome friends at this university. They come from all over the world and have such different life experiences from mine-I can’t say I’ve ever been to Panama or know anything about the Chinese language. I can’t do karate, and I could never hope to be as good a pianist as one of my friends. I like them all, and can’t imagine life without some of them. One in particular is a friend that always seems to wind up doing everything with me. I swear, it’s like we share a brain. We complete each other’s sentences (and know what the other is trying to say with her mouth full), have the same sense of humor, and like pretty much all the same things. We take similar classes, and detest similar stuff. And, it seems that we’re both braver on the internet than we are in real life.

Since it seems I can speak freer through a text or post than I can in real life, I think I’ll get out a secret of mine that has been bugging me for a while now. I’ve had to work up to this point. Well, my mantra is “Do something every day that scares you,” and this is definitely scary for me. Ready? Cue deep breath on my behalf, even though I’m typing this…

I think (I’m not totally sure) that I might (but I don’t know, since I’ve never dated) prefer (well, most of the time I think so) women (though I still think some guys are hot!)

Notice all the contradictions in that sentence? You can see that I’m still figuring this out. It feels like I could swing either way, depending on the hour, but there are some things about relationships in general that I can’t reconcile myself with. It’s…confusing, to say the least.

Contrary to what it might seem like, some of my friends have known about this highly confused side of me for a while now. Three of them, to be precise…and all of them are friends I could trust with the contents of my wallet. But there are some friends I haven’t told…some I haven’t told since I don’t know how they’d react, though a gut feeling tells me it would be a negative reaction. Some I haven’t told for the sake of convenience-they might not get how I feel, and I’m not sure some would even pay attention long enough to get past that sentence sans parenthetical comments. And some others I haven’t told because it’s my personal policy not to trust them with anything since I know I can’t do that.

So, it might come as a surprise that I haven’t told that awesome friend I talked about earlier about any of this. To be honest, I didn’t know what to say to her. Before, we’ve made jokes about being a couple or going on dates, since it seems like that whenever we’re with a group of people going somewhere, we inevitably wind up sitting together or doing the same thing. I have, before, reciprocated with those jokes, since they were sort of funny and completely in the moment. Many of those were also made before I came to this conclusion. And I’m thinking that if she had ANY idea, she’d freak out.

But, I think in some ways, she deserves to know about this. I trust all my other friends-why not her? I know I can depend on her for anything at all, and I’m pretty sure that she wouldn’t think of me differently…well, about 99% sure, but I’ve decided that if she won’t be my friend anymore because of this, she was never my friend to begin with. So I’m going to take my chances by posting the above statements and say this: close friend who completes all of my sentences and has a thing for rage comics, you know who you are. If you’re reading this, consider this me telling you something that I should have told you a long time ago. I’m not entirely sure what it means, but I hope you can help me figure it out.

After all, you do have the other half of my brain.

Playing Along

Recently, some friends and I played a game after an evening out. The game – to sit in a chair in the middle of the room and name the person in the room that we would most like to see naked. Wow. It was awkward to say the least. The company that evening included several close friends, a few ‘good’ friends, and then some general friends. I’m fairly certain that everyone in the room knows that I’m gay, but still when it came my turn I had an extremely awkward moment. I sat there thinking, thinking about how uncomfortable it would be to call out the name of a straight male in the room - uncomfortable for me, uncomfortable for him, uncomfortable for the entire room. So I shrugged and named a female.

The fact that I wasn’t able (or willing) to express my true feelings in front of a group that I consider to hold of my closest friends really made me think about some things. I was really disappointed afterwards, but I’m not sure if I was disappointed in myself or in my friends for playing the game in the first place. The game was a bit vulgar, but maybe it is my fault; maybe I should have been comfortable enough with my identity to say a man’s name. On the other hand, maybe I am underestimating my friends; if so, I feel bad for not trusting them. I guess even though I’m mostly comfortable with people knowing that I’m gay, it is a completely different story when I’m forced to admit things in a public setting like that.

We all know that rejection really sucks, especially by close friends, but don’t do what I did. Don’t sell yourself short, and, more importantly, don’t sell your friendships short by not trusting your friends to be supportive. No, I don’t suggest you tell straight boys you want to see them naked, but maybe, just maybe, trusting yourself to trust others would leave you better off. Shakespeare once said, 'Expectation is the root of all heartache." Whatever you do, don't expect the worst, especially from your friends. I expected my friends to react negatively if I told the truth, but I now know I wish I had said something else that evening, I don’t know what, but something else. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m a bit tired of playing along.

My (straight) learning curve, and a journey down the Rainbow-Bricked road

When I was in high school I didn’t have any close male friends; it wasn’t necessarily by choice or design, but for one reason or another that was the way it worked out. After coming to Duke, meeting new people and forging new even stronger friendships something remarkable occurred…I acquired straight male friends, and really close ones at that. It has truly been a new experience, but one I have thoroughly enjoyed.

[Note: this next bit might sound a little gender conforming, but please don’t take it that way…this is only a reflection of MY PERSONAL relationships with women and men, and is not a reflection of the traits of women and men as a whole]

There have been many great things that have come from my friendships with straight men, and I have learned a lot about them and learned a lot about myself. Some of the best parts have been just hanging out getting to know them…

· Its fun to have friends to talk sports too, and be able punch around some times.

· Its great to have someone to drink a beer with. I mean, “will be” great when I’m of age.

· Its fun to get to use the word “Bro” (although I can never do it with a straight face).

· Its great not to have to explain why during football season my Sundays (and Monday nights) are all booked.

· Its fun to watch a movie with a little more action, and a little less romance.

Now with all the wonderful things that have come with my newfound friendships, there have also been some stumbling blocks, and there are certain things I will never understand about straight guys…

· Guys can be a lot more heteronormative than girls.

· They can’t always understand why certain things are homophobic and offensive

· They are sometimes (often) sexist

· They can often be very unhygienic…lol, but really.

· I can’t, (or at least I fell I can’t) talk about my love life with them (and by love life I mean epic fail-but that’s a comedy for another post)

With all the good and the bad, I am very grateful that I have them as my friends. They truly mean a lot to me, and as I have learned from them they have also learned from me. As I acquired my first straight male friends, they got their first gay friend. So I will continue on my progress on my (straight) learning curve ,enjoying all the new adventures, and I will make sure they have some fun traveling down the rainbow-bricked road as well.

Throwback Thursdays: Winter Break Reflections

[Editor's Note: Hey Readers! Welcome to the third installation of "Throwback Thursdays." Every first Thursday of the month we'll feature a post from the BDU Blog, Version 1.0. Sorry for missing December...it happened to be World Aids Day and we decided to go with that, instead. But we're back now, with another reflection on going/being home. Lest we think that we're the first ones to ever experience the anxiety of switching locations, going from out of the closet to in the closet, or coming out now that we're back home, this post demonstrates to us that people have experienced this for eternity. Or, at least, since 2008 (and likely before). If you're in a difficult place over break and need support, please don't hesitate to reach out to the resources listed on Anonymous Posts.]

December 19, 2008

Coming home for winter break isn't what I thought it'd be.

I’ve been at home for a couple of days now since the semester is over. Finals week was surprisingly fun and eventful – it’s interesting how the simultaneous procrastination of college students whose rooms are near each other’s turns them into friends. Someone should write a paper on that.

So back to home. It’s weird being back with family and in the town where I grew up after being out out at Duke for a semester. First, I can tell you that it’s really boring here because none of my high school friends are back yet - Northeastern schools get out after Duke. But it’s also boring because none of my Duke friends are across the hall, a phone call away from meeting me at the Great Hall, or lounging at the Center. I don’t have anyone to talk to here, and it’s more than boring; it’s slightly depressing.

All the conversations that I would usually have at Duke are no-go’s over here. I haven’t – or maybe won’t is the more honest word – come out to my family yet, and like I said before, my friends aren’t physically here. I can’t talk about that person that I saw at the bus stop or at the library, about what someone said or did, or about how my life is ruined because of what someone said or did. (That last one was for you, someone)

In addition to that, I feel cut off from the new friends, specifically the LGBT ones, that I made this semester. We became friends surprisingly fast despite my tendency to embarrassingly choke on water and my fear of talking in large groups. That just goes to show how easily people with similar experiences and backgrounds can bond. I miss the quirky mannerisms that only come out when we’re together, incompatible food preferences, and somewhat constant nonchalant discussion of the subjects the FCC and Duke administration would not approve of.

So what I guess I’m really trying to say in overly high-flown rhetoric and Family Guy-style references is that I really appreciated being at Duke this semester; it was both socially and personally liberating. I’ve never experienced that before and – I know this will sound cheesy but if you know me, you’ll know that I’m a cheesy kind of guy - I’ve only realized what I had at Duke and how good it was after it’s gone (or while I’m on winter break).

Queersgiving.

This Thanksgiving, I was DETERMINED to make sweet potato pies. Armed with a glass of Riesling in one hand and my phone wedged between my neck and my shoulder (thanks Mom for leaving your recipe on voicemail….), I had somehow turned making pie into a Thanksgiving themed balancing act. By 4pm, everything within a 2-foot radius of the mixing bowl had become a victim of my endeavor.

You see, I've fallen in love with the peachfuzz that has managed to amass under my chin and over my lip. This love affair was sparked after an unfortunate incident involving curry remaining stuck to my face long after I had finished eating it. Until my unlucky run in with dinner that night, I was completely ignorant of anything growing on my face. Needless to say, I soon became the target of my friends' massive side eye (“How did you not know something was growing on your face?”) for the rest of the evening.

Because of this love (cue the Marvin Gaye y'all), I couldn't bring myself to utter the word shave. So, I made the decision to choose the 300 little hairs on my face over Thanksgiving at home, and the would-be concerned faces of family members that I haven't come out to yet. To this very second, I have no regrets over my decision.

So this Thanksgiving, there were no 8AM church services, no slow singing gospel choirs, no smell of the heavily perfumed bodies of the older women in my family. Instead, there was Queersgiving; 5 good (Queer!) friends and my sweet potato covered self, stuffing our faces to a menu that I still can't wrap my head around. Though the scenery of Thanksgiving had changed for me, the menu was pretty close to what I'd eat at home: pineapple and brown sugar glazed ham, mac and cheese, stuffing, and kale were all present and accounted for. 3 sweet potato pies were the result of my destructive cooking. To top it off, 2 apple pies and a tray of delicious enchiladas had also made their way to my friends' kitchen table. By 10PM, I was knocked out.

What began as a week of uncertainty over my absence from an annual family gathering, ended in a Thanksgiving I probably won't stop talking about for quite some time. I didn't have to go home and spend my break creating excuses and justifications for my identity, something that should never have to be justified in the first place. I didn't have to create an excuse for my flattened chest, for the sudden change in the pitch of my voice, or for anything, really. I got the chance to celebrate turkey day the way it should be celebrated- doubled over laughing, stuffed, mildly tipsy from my culinary adventure, and surrounded by people that I care greatly about, and who've gone out of their way to express that they care just as much about me.

How I would deal with holidays was never a part of my deciding to transition. I assumed that the holidays would be an extremely unpleasant 24 hour period of CSI style interrogation and questioning about my life and my body. Thank goodness I have friends who have shown me that it doesn't have to be that way.

Shout Out to the Allies!

[Editor's Note: Please welcome our newest blog writer! Kory, we're thrilled to have you!]

I feel like all I ever see on the local and national news nowadays are articles on the issue of gay rights. The local news is peppered with reports on NC’s marriage amendment, and CNN always seems to have something that was mentioned during a GOP debate or campaign speech. I actually dread reading these articles because of the hate I know I’m going to see in them. I read interviews of people who say all kinds of nasty and completely untrue things about non-heterosexuals, and it really does upset me to know that there are people who actually agree with a lot of those ideas. I’m not naïve, of course; I know there are tons of people who feel so strongly against the idea of gay rights, but there’s something about actually seeing and hearing those opinions that makes me feel so alone sometimes.

This is where the allies come in to the picture. This is when I’m so appreciative to have my friends. I feel so comforted when they ask me those awkward questions, or when they make that inappropriate joke. It means they’re comfortable with homosexuality; it means they want to understand people who are different; it means they care. And then I think about all of these people in the world who feel just as strongly in support of equal rights, and how the numbers are growing everyday.

As I’m writing this, in fact, the straight girl in the room is ranting over how stupid the marriage amendment is. She is actually upset that the legislation passed, and she has nothing to gain or lose over the passage of that amendment. I like how she asks me about how homosexual relationships work, and how I look at anti-lgbt laws, and all those questions that let me know she is willing to take the time to explore differences and understand them instead of defaulting to lashing out and being afraid.

Even though I wish more people would take the time to try to understand our differences instead of going on the attack, those people can never make me feel the way my friends do; the way our allies do; the way anyone who actually makes an effort to stand up for civil rights does.

To all the allies out there—thank you. Thank you for refusing to resort to hate speech and discrimination. Thank you for asking those questions. Thank you for all that you do for everyone who doesn’t fit the mold. Thank you for showing us that you care; you will never know just how much that means to us.

The Exceedingly Enthralling Adventures of Jennifer: Part the First

This post is going to be a little bit different from previous Wednesday posts. I said in my very first post that I would be sharing some of my story with you in addition to putting up the WOMYN Wednesday polls. (You should totally take them and share them with your friends, by the way!)

I thought I would tell you one of my coming-out stories. As I’m sure you know, coming out can be a huge and drawn-out process, as well as an uncomfortable or frightening experience. This particular coming-out experience happened at the beginning of last Fall.

I live in the Wellness Community, in Crowell G. For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, we’re a substance-free community that focuses on mindful, healthy living. It’s a great mix of people of all faith traditions, backgrounds, majors, personality types, etc. As part of an effort to build a stronger sense of community, our RC, Laura Kirkland, had decided that we would all go on a mandatory, day-long retreat to Camp New Hope. I was very nervous about it for many reasons: I’m pretty shy, so large groups of people make me nervous, and I generally dislike team-building exercises; I was overloading in a big way that semester, so I already had a ton of work to do; and I had just begun coming to terms with my sexuality, but I wasn’t really out to many people.

Despite my fears, the retreat began well. Laura had some ice-breakers that were new to me, and very fun, and there was food, which is never a bad thing. The more time I spent with the other members of Wellness, the more I realized that we had a lot in common. Of course, it helped that everyone was very nice. The difficult part was soon to come, though.

One of the Wellness requirements is that you have a SMART Goal - that is, a Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, and Timely goal. For a lot of people, the SMART Goal had to do with one of the more obvious/traditional parts of “living well” – sleep, nutrition, or exercise. But mine was different – I wanted to be more out and visible on campus by the end of the year. Here’s the rub: we had to write our goals down and give them to Laura, and then we had to discuss them with the other Wellness members. “Oh, what a perfect opportunity to start achieving your goal, Jennifer!” you might exclaim. Well, yes and no. It definitely would have given me a jump start. But, you see, I wasn’t ready yet – I had only just met some of these people, and I didn’t know their views about LGBTQ people/issues. Furthermore, I didn’t really want to be “that queer girl” – I am so much more than my sexuality. So, I compromised – I wrote down my real goal, but I made up a fake one to tell the other Wellness members. However, at that moment I decided that I had to tell my roommate as soon as possible.

When we returned from the retreat, I asked my RA for a Roommate Agreement Form – the one that you can use to inform your roommate about your sleep and study habits, as well as to make some of the other compromises that come with sharing a room (such a cunning plan for setting the stage, I know). My roommate, K, and I went over that form together – we had pretty similar habits, so that wouldn’t be a source of conflict. We came to the last question, which was a prompt for either of us to voice any concerns or information not covered in the questionnaire. At that point, I came out to her and then said something like, “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but if it does, there’s still time to make a roommate change.” I was so nervous, y’all; K was really nice and seemed like she would be a great roommate, but we didn’t really know each other. You know what her response was when I told her that I was queer? “Oh, I kind of figured.” And that was it! Well, not really – throughout the year, I realized that she was a) such a good Ally, and b) totally willing to discuss LGBTQ/feminist/civil rights issues with me. Awesome, right? I couldn’t ask for a better roommate, or a better friend! Her fabulous response and support encouraged me to work towards achieving my SMART Goal, and that coming-out experience was the first of many. They haven't really gotten easier, but I now know that there are so many people, from so many different groups on campus, who are supportive and wonderful.

(P.S. It would be awesome if you wanted to share some of your stories, either in the comments or as submissions to WOMYN. The womynatduke@gmail.com Inbox is achingly empty - last year's submissions are desperate for some young, hip company! You know, WOMYN is kind of like Google+ : magazines need submissions like social networks need people. Otherwise, neither of them is very fun.)

As I Sit Here and Freeze...

It's midnight, I'm alone in my tent, and I'm a Floridian. Aside from what I will discuss, can someone explain to me the logic of living in K-Ville? Just saying...

As I sit here and freeze, I have had the chance to reflect on how my life has changed over the past year. Until this past year, I had always pushed my sexuality aside from my life, or as I called it, "focused on my studies." I've known for a long time that I am gay, but I didn't know what to do. I knew the stigma, and especially in high school, my objective was to avoid all antagonizing remarks. I was already a math-and-science loving nerd, so I just wanted to try and remain as normal as normal could be for me.

At the beginning of my senior year in high school, I knew that I had to come to terms with who I was, especially before college. It was already October and I was already feeling sort of lost, I had very little guidance, and I really didn't have anybody to ask for advice, and then I met my best friend. Without Raymond, my life would not be the same.

Now to be honest, if I didn't have a crush on Raymond, I don't know if I would've even approached him, given the randomness of such a conversation and my awkwardness. However, if I never summoned the courage to just say hi and get to know him better, we would not be as close as we are today. But he was able to be the guidance and support that I desired. Raymond knew my concerns; he had already been through the process of coming out, even though he is two years younger than me. He has such strength and courage that he was able to pass on and reveal in me as I began my coming out process. My new year's resolution in 2010 was to be comfortable with myself, and not lie about who I am. I can say that is the only resolution I have ever completed in my eighteen years of living.

As I sit here and freeze, I think about what resolutions I could potentially make that I would be able to fulfill (yes, it's the 16th of January, I can still make resolutions). Actually, this resolution didn't dawn on me until I started writing this post, but I think it's a good one: I want to be somebody's Raymond. I want to be helpful to anyone who needs help. Raymond has been there for me from the beginning, and I can't thank him enough.

Now I want to return the favor.

I have spoken with some of you, the readers, about your concerns with coming out to friends and family. I am more than honored, and there are many wonderful contributors to this fabulous blog who would love to help you out. Please, if I can stress anything about this post, and you ignore the details above, please know this:

You are not alone. You should not come out alone. There is a group of people, not just me, but your friends who want to help.

Just like Raymond is there to help me, we are here to help you.