Sunday, May 22, 2011

Perhaps it's just by juxtaposition, but I feel significantly more comfortable in my skin. I don't squirm and fidget on the inside as much. I guess things are turning around.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Is it wrong to lead someone on? I mean, I've never made it clear that I was interested in this guy... but I've been really flirty. But I'm not into this guy. Just the idea of being able to make someone fall for me is kinda flattering. Lol I sound like a slut.

Friday, May 13, 2011

I really hate doing assignments like these. They ask questions with no wrong answer other than a nonexistent one. I was told to write what I think people think of me on one piece of paper, and what I think is part of my identity on other. Being the self-pitying person I am, I couldn’t help but put a million synonyms for arrogant and boring. And Asian-American and male and student and atheist blah blah blah. You know, the boring stuff. But I didn’t want to lie to myself by not writing “gay.” I wrote it so it couldn’t be missed.

Alexander and I talk about school assignments all the time, often doing them together or helping one another. She actually came up with most of the characteristics for what others think of me. The next day, when the assignment was due, we talked briefly before class started, and she encouraged me to say what I wrote when asked for volunteers to share. You see, I usually only speak in response to teachers unless they’re aggravating; then I’d argue against every thing they say. But anyways, I didn’t really want to raise my hand to tell the whole class that I’m gay. I feel like there should be no reason for someone to have to tell people if they people probably wouldn’t care. I mean, you don’t go around randomly telling people what your favorite TV show is, right? So I promised myself and Alexander that I would say it only if I got called on. Like, shouldn’t there be no reason to deny the teacher if there’s nothing to be ashamed of? So I made a silent promise to myself. I could totally do it. I was ready. I think. As she goes around calling on people, everyone’s traits were so conceited and vain. Not an ounce of humility graced their papers. The room was kinda chatty like any other classroom with 28 students working on an assignment like this, but the teacher’s voice demanded attention as she called on people. The teacher knew I was gay as well. I mean, I’ve told her, but I was wondering if she purposely chose me (knowing that I wouldn’t have volunteered but wanted to let people know) as the syllables of my name shot out of her mouth. The room’s chatter was subdued but still audible. I fumbled over my words as i read. “Pessimist” “Boring” “Arrogant” “Cocky” I’m sure they were getting fed up with my excessive self-loathing, so the shallow words had to come out of my mouth to satisfy the assignment. “Asian-American” “Introvert.” “Atheist…” ”Self-proclaimed Misanthropist” with a smirk. But I was running out of words. I knew the time neared.

“And something that most of you probably don’t know— I’m gay”

The chain of silence that followed was unbroken other than the rustle of clothes as a few people turned their heads towards me. Maybe she knew that this could have a terrible impact on my growth as a gay male. Being the awesome teacher she is, her words broke the chain as she attempted to pull this one word that no one knew that to do with down where she could tie it back into her assignment. The class started talking again, which let me breath a sigh of relief, knowing that eyes had moved on and were looking around the room for the teacher’s next victim. I sat there, unsure of how I should feel. Well, how did I feel? How am I supposed to feel? All of the coming-out stories that I’ve read say that it should be liberating. Freeing. Life-changing. Monumental. I felt… eh. Not very different. The people that I’ve talk to say that it’s probably because the people that didn’t know yet don’t matter, so I wouldn’t feel any different. But I didn’t really feel different after I told my best friends and cousin either. What a weird gay I am, right?

But then this kid in my class that I don’t really like messaged my best friend to tell me something. He messaged me on Facebook something similar. It said:

that was mad real today in english and for you to just say it out like that mad props like thnx for sharing that with me(everyone lol)

I think you may already know from the way he writes why I don’t really like him lol. But he was the only one that really talked to me about what I did back there. I didn’t come out because I wanted to date anyone in the class. I didn’t come out to benefit teacher so her lesson would have been better. I didn’t come out because I wanted to cause unrest in my classroom. Well. Refer to my “Misanthropist” post if you care enough. I came out because there was not a single person who was out in my classroom, and possibly my entire high school. I wanted to let people know that if they’re gay, they’re not the only one. Cheesy, right? Probably. But I wanted to represent the gay community. I have a suspicion that this kid is gay or at least bi. I’m glad he said what he said. Like what I did wasn’t just some random selfish action. I mean, I didn’t really benefit from it, like I said. Idk. It’s not really my coming-out story. So just… Stupid story?

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Masochist

I've always found "coming-out stories" really interesting, especially when people have some of the most beautifully bare and wholesome ways of "coming out." But that's beside the point here. What comes after always seems to be more interesting than how they "came out." I'll just warn you now that my attitude towards life is pretty dark and twisted. I like hearing stories about being "bullied" for coming out. I hate the word "bully" too, to be honest. It debilitates the true extent of how sick some people treat others since children are often taught to use it as a way to identify. But we're not in grade school here. We're not getting our dodge ball stolen or being cut in line right before you're about to get the last pizza. We're talking about people being absolutely sick and ignorant to the point where their recipients have decided dying would be more comfortable than living with these "bullies." But that's exactly it. I want someone to say this stuff to me that I hear being said to others. I want to feel what it's like. I want to know that my short (thus far) and agonizing yet continuing journey to acceptance has not all been in vane. Like... all of this suffering has to pay off some how. Like how no matter what they say, the fact that they have taken their time to condemn me and hate me has indicated that that I've already won. I long for that pain. But I suppose the most important thing is that in order to experience such pain, I'd have to fully come out first. Because only then would any "bullying" be indicative that my journey to acceptance is nearing an end.