| In elementary school I never dated because I thought I was undesirable. My self-description was more appalling than appealing; I was short, overweight, and had a heinous haircut. It didn't help that I was in wrestling and everyone I knew had called me the 'sumo wrestler' of the school. Schoolmates played off my unmistakable insecurities. My self worth was dim. I was in the tenth grade when I came to terms with myself. One evening I was watching television sitting on the couch in my living room. My mom sat at the kitchen table behind me lost in a novel. My little sister seemed to be overtaken by the computer game she was playing. Pealing myself off the couch, I went to get a glass of water from the kitchen during the commercials. Asking my mom how her book was, she said, "good" without looking up. With my glass of water, I went back to the couch and tried to plant myself back where I was before. The program continued with a man walking down the sidewalk of a street that was quite busy for the time of night. It was a cool, crisp Friday night. Seemingly, there was a slight breeze, and the moon shown brightly through the city lights. As he walked passed one of the many bars that lined the street, two men came stumbling out. They noticed that he was sporting a few of the gay pride symbols - a ring with a rainbow on it and an earring in his right ear - there may be even fore that I was obvious to notice. Dave, one of the drunk men, told him that he "has a lot of nerve to come to this part of town, and that there was no room for his kind here." The words "fag" and "queer" were a few of the vulgar words they shouted as they began to push their easy mark up against the wall. The man tried to leave before something bad happened. Dave placed his hand on the man's chest and told him that he was not finished with him yet. Dave's accomplice began shouting obscenities and then with no warning threw a punch. Without looking up, the physically and verbally abused man broke through and walked away with what was left of his pride as the two men laughed and continued to scream obscenities. I personally felt for the man because I knew what it was like to be publicly humiliated. He retreated to a home in an urban area with beautiful houses lining the streets. When Will walked in, an attractive man sitting on the couch greeted him. Andrew saw Will walk in the door and by Will's expression had noticed that something had happened. In one of the most sincere voices I have ever heard, Andrew told Will to come and sit next to him on the couch. Without missing a beat, Andrew had him explain what had just happened. Will's eyes swelled and tears had started to flow down his face as he shared what had happened. Vulnerable, scared, and embarrassed are the only words I could use to describe him. With a strong embrace, Andrew began to wipe the tears off Will's face and told him that everything will be alright, that things will get better. For what reason I will never know, this caught my mom's attention. "That's so sad. Why would anyone wanna be gay? It just makes no sense to me! It's sick!" Instantly I had felt something in my stomach ache. My throat got immediately dry, and I was speechless. For the first time in my life, I was scared of my mom. I didn't know what to say. I shut off the TV and walked upstairs to my room. I was overwhelmed with fear, horror, and panic. Something inside me had been destroyed. My heart was aching. I had felt a pain that I had never felt before. From what I had known, gays were men that dressed like women and walked with their hips swaying from side to side and with an unmistakable lisp. I did none of those things. I realized that I was touched by how loving Andrew was to Will. I then understood that being gay was not about sex and wanting to become a woman, but something very different. It was an emotional tie between people, the same as a heterosexual relationship. Andrew held him in his arms and comforted him in hi time of need. My eyes swelled up as I lay down on my bed. I closed my eyes and thought about everything that had happened over the last few years of my life: the small things that I could not pinpoint, that I knew in the back of my head, but could never admit. I had always hoped that I would grow out of this, or maybe the feelings were because I had not yet met the right girl. I had known up to that point that I was not gay. Thoughts would come to me, and I would work hard to hide, to forget these feelings. Yet, no matter how hard I had worked, these thoughts would randomly resurface. I couldn't run from it. I prayed this would be something that would just go away, but every day it was there, lingering in the background waiting to burst. As I began to think back over the last year, the tears started to stream down my cheeks. I had been severely depressed for the last year, even suicidal. I didn't care about friends, the lack there of, my family, or myself. My grades in school began to slide. I saw no point in living. Why would I want to live in a world where I would always be looked down upon? I hated being at home, but I hated being in school. I had no friends that I could talk to about something like this. How could I risk my reputation, my life? By this time the tears were uncontrollable, flowing in full force. That night I finally realized that I couldn't live a life of self-denial, letting the naive people around me dictate my life and actions. I also understood that I couldn't live like that. That kind of life, in time, would kill me. Self-destruction was not an option for me, yet I could see that I was not far from that road. I decided that here and now, I would no longer wallow in self-pity, but be proud of who I am, regardless of what society has to say. I convinced myself that if anyone could live through this, why not let it be me? |
| Casey's Story |
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| Casey is now 19 and attending a small community college in rural Minnesota. |