[ATENEO ESSAY] A Boy with Curls who Struggled with the Straights, and the World.
My Coming Out Story
“Ma, I’m not straight.”
Before me stood the table, a mug, our food. They seemed to want to scream, to tell me they were proud of me, as I said those words directly to my mom. To her face, with its lashes of wrinkles, and through her heart, with the hospitality to welcome who I really am.
“I know,” she said. A night that I can’t remember when it happened, only what did. Finally, I got out of that irritating, suffocating, and unwelcoming closet. I came out of the closet.
The hands of clocks have dictated my destiny; the time is now, as they say. Because that time, I knew I should not live a lie. Coming out was an achievement that has molded me because it taught me to follow no one — I discover my purpose, and I love more than I ever have.
The cruelty of the world towards the queer community is the reason why “coming out” exists the way that it does. The closet is the shield that prevents the likes of us from a rain of bullets of discrimination, persecution, and abandonment; because an umbrella itself is not enough. But every closet has its own void. I dealt with confusion, as well as loneliness. This void almost consumed me; it attempted to take away my own truth. Of course, I fought back. I broke through the locks of that closet, and finally here I was, writing my story; writing my truth. The truth of a man who once was in the closet.
What is a man? They play basketball, do horse play, or they are the Romeo to their Juliet. These are brands of society. How do I then define myself? I am a man, I knew that. But I also knew that my heart does not only belong to Juliet; it also belongs to Romeo. However, I do not fit into how society labels a man. The justification of the nature of being is where discrimination makes its nest. You have a penis? Go meet a girl. You have a pink vagina? Go find your prince charming. We are in a world where our genitals need to meet expectations, which apparently, should not be that way. This is why I do not fit in; I do not want to reach that expectation of nature. Rather, I wanted to live my life in pursuit of love.
This is how I do not fit in: I’m not masculine enough, too embarrassed to talk dirty, I can’t impress girls and girls did not romantically like me either, and I’m not “cool” in such ways that you bully people (Is that cool, anyway? Definitely not). Before, I couldn’t fathom why I do not fit in. Why am I a screw that fits nothing? And the present settled its answer: I was perceived as different. And I thought that I was different, too.
I’m not only perceived differently; I was treated differently. Even though I was in the closet, it felt like the walls, the door, as well as the ceiling were transparent; they saw me. The noticeable soft sway of hands, the platonic connection among the girls, and my avoidance when the boys were around, are what gave rise to faking myself. I tried to repress my self-expression, to maintain my inner-masculinity, and I suppressed my emotions; I tried to be the man that society wants from me.
These norms and forces of society taught me nothing but to put a grave within my heart. It felt like gravity, pulling me at its strongest from my truth. For sure, reader, if you were in my shoes, you’ll feel the exact exploitation; it is inevitable. The consequence of being born queer is like a prophet telling to us that we are destined to suffer in unique way. We’ll weep with stoned tears and we’ll fly with featherless wings. I taught myself to accept the fate inscribed to us. In such ways that I accepted every classroom I enter once a year will feel like a year of isolation and threat. That every arrival and departure of the sun is a day of another unfair reality I face.
However, things that I taught myself before were not irreversible. By that experience, I learned I’m not different. I’m just who I am. The acceptance of unfair reality and the years of isolation and threat, were simply defeated by the little courage I have, that became the main ingredient of my coming out story. Yes, the world is unfair for people like me; but that is not enough reason to run against the odds; and there is and will be no reason to give up. Essentially, the social construct of male to female is a dictatorial system that uniquely oppresses us, and apparently being followed by many; I, too, did. But given by that reality is no means that we should accept it. Resist, defeat, with no retreat. Gay rights movement was a Western ideology that infected all regions of the world. This caused the queers to build communities and as they did, they resisted as one, up until now. Thus, this brought up the idea that being a queer should follow no one but the truth we own. That as a queer, I must resist the puppetry of the social construct stacked against us. I’m flesh, not a wooden figure that you can just laugh about. I’m flesh, who came out, that shaped my being. Because coming out is not a selfish act. It is an avenue to group with those who have the same reflection in the mirror as I do. I’m flesh, who became one. Because we’re a community that resists society’s discrimination.
As we resist, we find our purpose. Who are we resisting for? As I said, coming out is a selfless act; you become a we rather than an I. So, my truth is mutual to the rest of the queer people. We might have different stories, but the goal is the same: it is to be free. My coming out story is my truth that makes the person I am now; because this gives inspiration that the ones who are in the closet should break free. Therefore this truth of mine will travel from the nearest up to the farthest closeted people. That they should know and will feel that they are not alone; that there is a community awaiting them. We need numbers; not just passion for resistance. We need them to be part of us. The more we are, the more people can hear our rights, our stories to tell, the future we want.
When we protest; gays with placards, lesbian with rainbow flags, transgender who kills the binary fashion, we are actually telling that the discrimination, as well as the exploitation right now, should not be experienced by the next generation, thus it should be stopped. We want every child born to have no curse marked on their stomach. That they will grow; learn how to walk, also how to fall, without being stoned by society. That when a child knows that he is gay, he can love whoever he wants to love. Where lesbian kids have the autonomy to kiss a girl. Whereas the transgender youngsters have the freedom to own their body; so as to live with it, without being harassed. Sure, society will always have its eagle eyes, hunting us like a meal for them, but remember: we must have the desire to stop it; to put an end to it. Whatever it is that the rule of impossibility dictates us, we must stop it. It will never be impossible to create a utopia for the queer.
By knowing my purpose, this has shaped me to the person I am now. Purpose, in essence, is the core of how human connection functions. It fuels the emotions between a person and throughout humanity. Have you ever heard the question “what do you live for”? Definitely yes. This common inquiry has ingrained an answer to all of us. The answer is subjective; thus, it depends on the person. By whatever it is that you answer, it will become the primary source of how life will shape you. Because your purpose in life will tell how compassionate, and loving you are for the people that surround you. If your purpose in life is to help the poorest, then you have those qualities that are aforementioned; not automatically but gradually, you’ll acquire the gift of having human connection. Connection by means you have the heart for others. Therefore, the purpose of living is a product of love.
Coming out, has no exit sign; only entrance. This made me a cannibal; eating my own fear and pain in order to survive. So when I breakthrough, it is a stepping stone for loving myself. Self-love is undeniably the best reward you can give on yourself. You can encounter the idea of self-love in pop culture. See how social media and their consumers popularize this concept.
The reason why I need self-love is to have the capacity to love the people that surround me. It’s intuitive to say that it is a selfish act; it is not. All humans born with an empty bottle. With that, you have to fill the emptiness within you, because self-love is not inherent in us; it only starts with nothing. So when you fill already the nothingness, you can share it to others; A bottle you can share for the thirsty, a love you can share for the ones who deserve it. Once you practiced the art of creating love for yourself, you’ll never run out of it when you are giving love to others.
By that, self-love is a necessity. It is the production of catering love for others. When I came out, I knew this was only the beginning. But for sure, once I fill my own thirst for love; that’s when I have enough, and will be able to share the love that I gain from myself by myself.
Therefore, self-love shaped me by this kid writing his essay for Ateneo because I have loved the people who stay beside me, and that makes me the happiest person now in the city, or let’s say, in the entire world. That made me who I am today.
This is a common formula to generate the potion for love and happiness. Don’t chug it too much, because it is a slow process you have to take every single day.
Self-realization, purpose, love. A step, a deed, a need. These made me who I am now. Because that night, where the ageless table, the empty mug, the cold food, were witnessing a history, I defeated the biggest opponent, the closet; myself. At the moment, I kept learning to follow the one I look in the mirror; the face that can paint a laugh, lips that can be kissed by a boy, hands that can be reached by the likes of him. While serving his purpose to change the status quo. And to love that dominates the height of an Everest.
That night, there was the house with the people who accepted me, the stars that arranged themselves to form the words “Congrats Lance”, and the moon that suddenly gave a smile, with tears of victory. Finally, I’m free.
