Welcome to my coming out essay. It’s taken many years and many false starts, but I’m finally ready to declare to the world that I am queer and here, out and proud, gay by birth and fabulous by choice. [Cue parade of rainbow unicorns.]
For many of you, this essay might seem redundant. During my later years in college, I loudly broadcasted my queer identity with the Wellesley hair chop and flannel. I’ve also been out at my workplace and various other parts of my life.
However, I still have many relationships, especially relationships that began earlier in my life, where I have never disclosed my queerness. Afraid of losing these connections, I kept this major part of myself hidden. Nevertheless, I felt the heaviness of the truth I was intentionally obscuring and my secret ended up suffocating and choking many of these once blossoming relationships. In remembrance of these relationships, I tell my story.
[Minor note about language: I use the terms queer, gay and lesbian interchangeably to describe myself as someone attracted to those of my same gender. There are differences in the definitions and usage of these terms. I currently identify as queer because I believe the term is more encompassing and leaves room for flexibility in gender identity as well as sexuality. However, I didn’t learn the term queer until later in college and so at times in my story, using terms like gay and lesbian feel more authentic.]
I’ve titled this essay “Coming in to Queer Faith” simply because I cannot talk about accepting my sexuality without talking about my Christian faith. I knew I was Christian long before I knew I was queer. I grew up in the American South and was raised by parents who were actively involved in our local Chinese Christian church. From childhood, Christianity was the lens I used to view the world and for many years, my Christian and Queer identities were locked in a conflicting dance. When one stumbled, the other one rose, but try as they might neither one was able to overpower their partner.
In 9th grade, I joined my church’s youth group. Coincidentally, this was around the same time I began to question my sexuality. My first inkling that I might be gay came after watching Brokeback Mountain. I felt a surprising kinship with Ennis and Jack. One day, my friend was going on about how disgusting the movie was and I replied, “I don’t know, I think I can understand how they felt.” My empathy shocked me. I asked myself why I felt this way and the idea that I might be gay first crossed my mind.
It was a frightening thought. The brand of Christianity that I had been brought up on hardly allowed for sexuality and it definitely did not allow for gays. By this point, I had been baptized and was a committed member of my church’s youth group. My Christian faith was burgeoning. I had accepted and was actively championing the rules of conduct I equated with Christianity. But my faith was still tender and I was still striving to form a personal relationship with the Christian God.
Exploring queerness became my deep dark secret. Late at night after my family fell asleep, I would scour the internet for anything that would help me figure out what it meant to be lesbian. I obsessively watched every Ellen DeGeneres interview I could find on Youtube. Melissa Etheridge and KD Lang became my soundtrack of choice on Napster. I carefully analyzed the plot lines of L Word episodes and when I discovered Saving Face (a movie about Chinese American lesbians), I was overjoyed. Here was proof that Chinese Americans could also be gay. But, my joy was soon replaced by a sinking feeling. After all my research, I couldn’t deny anymore that I was also a lesbian.
The first person I came out to was my church’s youth group director. I was afraid of condemnation, of fire and brimstone. I knew the rules better than anyone. My confession came out as a stutter. I couldn’t even bring myself to say the words, gay or lesbian. “I think I’m attracted to girls,” I stammered. Without missing a beat, she hugged me and reassured me. In this moment, she showed me the love and grace of God, and I’ve been forever grateful.
Encouraged by my youth group director, I started telling my close youth group friends and mentors about my struggle. I always framed it as a struggle. We all knew the verses. I knew I would be damned publicly and spiritually if I didn’t fight my feelings. So I struggled. For years.
I consumed books and stories about gays and lesbians who by the grace of God suddenly changed their same sex proclivities and went on to lead happy heterosexual lives. I prayed and prayed. Yet, heard no discernible reply. I grew resentful. Why did God give me this life to live? My faith, so young and tender, grew weary.
Demoralized by the Christian rendering of my sexuality, I sought respite in the secular world. By the time I was in college, I had split myself along these two identities. I attended church and went to a fellowship group. But I also joined a queer support group and immersed myself in my college’s queer culture. In both settings, I felt disconnected. At church, all I could think about was how gay I was. At queer gatherings, all I could think about was how Christian I was.
I didn’t know how to live with both identities vying for control of my soul. They seemed to contradict each other at every turn. I felt like I had to choose, but I couldn’t choose. So, I put off thinking about it for a long time. I lived my life hedonistically and justified it by saying that God can do anything God wants. If God wanted me to lead a happy heterosexual life, he would turn me straight. Until that day came, why couldn’t I indulge in my own sexuality?
Of course these thoughts lasted for only a minute before the guilt and shame arrived. The bible’s “clobber passages” repeated in my head like an old record. How could I justify my actions when there was proof that God disapproved of my choices?
The love from God that was demonstrated by my youth group director was forgotten. God’s grace and mercy went unrecognized. I perceived the Christian God as a unforgiving judge who found me lacking. At this point, I wanted to renounce my faith and give up grappling with religion.
Except Christianity clung to me. Perhaps it’s unfeasible that I could dismiss the Christian worldview that I was born into. Perhaps it’s impossible that I could let go of something that defined me for so long. Perhaps it was God.
After ten years of living a fragmented life, I began to explore other interpretations of Christianity that were queer-friendly. In the past, I had clung to the teachings that I grew up with and rejected the rest as heresy. However, the conflict in my soul was so unbearable that I had to find some type of resolution in order to continue living.
Struggling to survive, my mind opened. Through meeting and listening to the stories of queer Christians and Christian allies, I started to see my queerness as a gift and not a curse. Once I accepted myself as queer and that God created me as a queer person, the destructive tango of my two identities ceased. At long last, there was peace.
I still struggle with my Christian faith. Perhaps it is not faith unless there is struggle. There’s a lot of damage surrounding my perception of the Christian God that needs to be repaired and healed. It has been hard for me to view God separate from the graffiti of hate and judgement that some Christians spray on God. But I’m hopeful that this will one day change.
Now that I’m officially out of the closet, I hope to have the courage to continue living openly and authentically in all areas of my life. My coming out journey has been just as much about coming out as it has been about coming in: coming into my own acceptance, coming into God’s acceptance, coming in to Queer Faith.
Thank you for reading my story.
To those of you with whom I’ve let our relationship fade because of this secret: I hope that maybe one day we can mend what was broken.
To those of you I have yet to meet: I’m excited for when our paths cross someday and I (my complete and whole self) will get a chance to know you.
To my friends and family who have known and supported me: Without you, this never would have been written. Know that your love picked me up at my lowest points and carried me through my despair. Thank you.