coming out
When I was younger, I was always a huge tomboy. I was never with all the other little girls my age, playing house or planning out my "dream wedding". If you saw me, I was outside playing football in the mud, or riding bikes with all the little boys my age. Seeing me take part in this made everyone think it was a phase; they thought I would grow into the make up and dressing in tight little clothes. Even now at the age of seventeen, I’m still just "one of the guys". I never was attracted to guys, but I will admit I had a few little experimental boyfriends, but none of them worked for me as a physical relationship. I always saw myself better off as friends with them.
Eventually, I started thinking, what is wrong with me? Why am I so different from all the other girls? Why do I dress like this? Always afraid of what my family and friends would think, I could never talk to anyone about it. Eventually my secret caught up with me. In junior high I was called a lesbo, queer, dyke, or my favorite, C.W.D, also known as "chick with a dick". I didn’t know what to do and I wanted people to think I was just like all the other girls my age. Every once in a while I would catch my self dressing "girlie", but it just wasn't me. I thought maybe it would help if I just shrugged it off, but honestly deep down inside, I really did care.
Junior high fades away and now high school approaches. I thought going into high school would let me avoid the people who constantly talked and spread rumors about me. So, I walk into my first high school class and I hear, "Wutsup Chelsea, find you any good dykes this summer?" My heart stopped but all I could do was ignore it. I stop and debate with myself. Can I tell my friends about the thoughts that I have had going through my mind all summer? Can I tell them about all of the tears that I’ve cried trying to find myself? Then I thought I might have found my answer; I can’t.
I came from a close minded little Texas town in the middle of nowhere. Growing up, I was always taught that being gay was wrong. That anyone who was like that that was going to hell. I never really got taught even the basics of understanding homosexuality, so I kept my mouth shut. The beginning of my high school career had become a living hell in itself. I couldn’t make friends because everyone always seemed to be talking about me. I was paranoid, depressed and worst of all, I was scared.
Soon after I recognized my enjoyment of writing, I wrote everything down. Thoughts, ideas, things I would hear people say, just random things. It seemed to clear my mind, but I knew something was too good to be true. One day during my freshman year a bunch of seniors had thought it would be cool to take my notebook; my journal; my life. They all wrote all over it, writing little comments and pasting the word "dyke" all over my poems. My only feeling was that I wanted to die. I could just imagine crawling into my corner and never coming out of it again. Then, of course, all the names came back. I did all I could to cover it up. I dated a few guys, I went and hung out with more guys, but then they started trying stuff with me and as much as I wanted to hide it, I didn't see how letting someone take advantage of me was worth it.
I eventually came out to my best friend. I was scared to death but I had to tell someone about these thoughts I was having. Sooner or later it all started falling into place. I knew it was how I was meant to be. It all seemed so clear; I was attracted to women. I had always been attracted to them, but now I could say it without all of my insecurities. As soon as I came to be with who I was, I met someone online and we proceeded to date.
Not too long after this turn of events I met someone else online who went by an FTM at the time. I had not known what an FTM was and had no clue about homosexuality. He seemed to talk me through it all and I soon became his little "Mini Me". Now that I think back, I do not see how I would have gotten through any of this with out him. We have never met and I owe my world to him. I had found out all of this new information and became so fascinated by stories and gay rights. I realized there was a whole other world out there that I was so secluded to. I slowly decided to come out to close friends, and one decided to stab me in the back and tell everyone.
Everyone found out I had a girlfriend I met online. She had lived 13 hours away from me in a whole other state, but I knew I wanted to be with her. I always thought it would be great when I would be able to tell everyone about me, but it wasn't. Being in a small town didn’t help either. Everybody knows everybody, and my family was a very large majority of that everybody. I sat there day and night, night and day, trying to figure out if I should tell my family; trying to figure out how I should tell them. And worst of all, what I was going to say when they found out from all of the other people in town.
Finally, it all came out. I finished my junior year of high school and am now living with my mom and new stepfather. It’s about the middle of summer and I had just spent the recent week at a friend’s house with my girlfriend. She had flown in to Texas to see me for the first time in person after dating for about 4 months. And I was as happy as could be. My parents hadn't found out yet and I was able to sneak a week in with my girl without my parents knowing. I was staying the night with my best friend after getting home from the movies. I would get up early in the morning and my friend would take me home. The whole way home, I had a weird feeling. I knew something was going down in my household, I just couldn't figure out what. I walk into the quiet house with the lights all out. I walk into my room and there is my mom, sitting at my computer desk, steam shooting out her ears. My step dad walks out of the room and I will never forget the words that came out of her mouth
"So, you like girls, huh? You aren't even old enough to know what you want." I stop and think to myself, "I'm almost 17, I can make my own decisions, but how do I tell her that?" I start to sweat; my heart starts racing rapidly. I'm being as strong as I am while she beats her insensitiveness into me. I tried to defend myself and tried to tell her how I feel but it wasn't working. All I could do is cry. She stopped talking to me and gave me the silent treatment for the remainder of the day.
Later that night we started to argue again, and then I left. I went to my dads for the night, which was probably the worst thing for me at the time. My father and I no longer talk and we never really did have a good relationship. I can remember back to 5th grade, arguing with him about whom was supposed to be the adult in the relationship. Apparently, he thought that I should have been. It was one thing that he couldn't provide the correct fatherly care for me, but what really tore me up inside was how much he hurt my brother; even if it wasn't physically but, mentally.
Before my mom had the conversation with me about going to my dad’s, my mom sends my little brother in my room. He comes into my room, and she said, "Alright, tell your brother goodbye since you are too good to live under this roof anymore." He was trying to hold back the tears and so was I. I've taken care of this boy since he was in diapers. I have been more of a mom to him than our own mother has. Honestly, how can I leave him like this?
I hugged him as tight as I could and just held him for a minute. I told him I loved him and that I always will. I told him to never forget that, and I make him promise me that he will be strong with all the obstacles my mom and everyone else puts in front of him. Just the very thought of this moment brings nothing but tears to my eyes.
After I said my goodbyes my father came to pick me up. Little did I know it would be the longest car ride of my life. I was stupid enough to believe that he would be there for me but somehow I knew that assumption would come to an end. We get a few blocks from his house and he said, "Alright, Chels. I know you are going through some tough stuff with your mother right now so lets get to the house and get some rest and we will try and talk about it in the morning". I knew there was a catch, he was being far to much of a father for there not to be one. Then he says, "Your so called feelings or whatever that you have, you will have to handle that on your own. I don’t want to hear about them, so keep it to yourself." By then, I knew he wasn't going to accept me any more than my mother was.
I tried to talk to him that night, but it just wasn't working. It led up to arguing which then led to, "You’re gonna go by what I say, or I'm sorry, but you can't live here." I didn’t mind following rules but he was expecting me to seclude my self in my little corner just like my mother was. He tells me to go to bed and get some rest but I had no clue where my bed was. He had lived right across town from me for a few months now but I have never actually seen past his living room. I get up the next morning and my stepmother makes me some breakfast. As soon as I am done eating me and my father drive over to my mothers house to get my toothbrush and a few pairs of clothes but only the ones that I had paid for.
I started to walk out the door and there was my mom. She gave me my dog and right then I knew that this was reality. I wasn't dreaming, although I had wished I were. I start to turn around and walk out the door but she stops me and makes me come back home. Either way I was on the verge of getting kicked out of my fathers house so I couldn’t really decide what was worse. My mom took away my computer, controlled where I went and who I went with, and also watched my cellphone bill, making sure I didn't make any calls out of state. Not long after all of this I found out that we have to move to Alabama in a month or less because my stepfather is in the army. I had already thought my life was bad enough, but now this. Everything I've ever known is in Texas. My friends, my family; my entire life. What hurt the most was I wasn't allowed to go anywhere or talk to anyone. All I could do was sit in my room and think about how my last month in Texas was going to be the worst of them all.
Days slowly went by and I slowly started depending on my self and only myself. One day my mother and stepfather told me we are going to go spend the day at the lake. We stayed out there all day with no fights or arguments between anyone. But, as we start to pack up the boat I get a call. When I answered it I didn't understand a word that was coming from the other line. Finally, one of my friends takes the phone and says, "Chelsea, Cindy was in a wreck".
Cindy was one of my good friends that I had gone to school with. We had a lot of ups and downs but every time it came down to us making up and loving each other just the same. She was one of the biggest party girls I had ever met. At first I didn't think anything of it. I mean she would come to school every week with a new story about her exciting weekend of sneaking out or getting in trouble with the cops. She was always getting into wrecks but they were also always minor. I can remember the call like it was yesterday. I said, "Well, is she okay?” The voice on the other side of the phone says, "No, not this time. This ones serious". I learned she was on life support. My heart stopped. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't even think. I tell my friends to call my back whenever they find out any more information and I climbed into the truck. When had gotten home I just shut my self in my room. I paced back and forth all night long. I couldn't understand why my world was slowly withering away. Early the next morning I get a call from my friend. Her voice faint, and shaken with tears. She said "Chels, she's gone".
I couldn't believe it. I had no clue what to do. I wanted to run away from it all. A day or so later I called my girl in New Mexico from a calling card that one of my friends had bought me. I was so excited to just hear her voice, which was the only thing that could possibly make me happy at the moment. But as we start to talk, I realize something is wrong. She basically tells me its over, for good. I knew we were having problems and we had been on a break for a week or so but I had never thought it would come down to this. We continued to be great friends but at first I didn't care about anything anymore. Up until this very day I cannot sit here and say that I didn't think about ending my sorrows right then and there for good. The more I thought about doing it the better it sounded. I tried to talk to my friends but they didn't seem to care. I would sneak on the computer at night so I could talk to the few people that actually did seem to care. Then there he was to my rescue again.
My "Spikiez" I was his "Mini Me" We talked about everything and he made me realize how many people I would let down if I were to give up that easily, how many people really did care about me. And I knew then, I couldn't do it. I had to be stronger than possible. I couldn't' let down those people who had been looking up to me the entire time to stay strong. So I started looking at the bright side of things and I thought to my self "Alabama can't be that bad. Can it?” I said my goodbyes in Texas and I was soon off to Alabama.
I had a few weeks to get prepared for my first day at a new high school but I wasn't looking forward to it. I had always gone to a small school and I didn't want to start at a new one. Especially on my senior year. It didn't even take a week before I heard all of the rumors and name calling again. It took me back to Jr.high I hated it. A few days after everyone settles into all their classes I walk into gym and sit down in my assigned spot on the bleachers. As I was writing in my journal I hear all the girls behind me making comments about how they do not want a lesbian in the same dressing room as them. They realize I am sitting beside them so, they talk louder. Just loud enough to where I can hear every word of what was being said. It hurt so much to hear what they were saying but I couldn't let them see it get to me. I just had to brush it off and continue with my writing.
It came to about the seventh week of school, I still had no "real" friends, and I'm ready to go back to Texas. Until my coach announces we have someone joining our class. I didn't know anything about this girl except for the fact that I fell in something deep for her instantly. We started to get closer and develop a friendship that I wouldn't trade for the world. She helped me through so many things in just a short period of time, and we had so many things in common. Including our first names and where we were from. She was also from Texas. I was so happy to learn that I had found someone whom I could connect with in so many ways.
Now it has been a month or so since we started talking and my feelings grow stronger towards her each day and the more my feelings grow, the more I realize that no matter how hard life gets there will always be someone by your side holding your hand and guiding you through it all. Whether it be race, religion, or sexual preference we are all the same and, life is far too short to be based on your regrets. Always remember that no matter what obstacle may put ahead of you, you cannot give up. Stay strong. Not only for yourself but also for the people looking up to you (whether you notice them or not).