Girls are beautiful creatures.

I have always thought so. The seniors at school were really pretty. So were the models in magazines and the teenage starlets on TV. I loved looking at their pictures, and I would spend countless hours on the computer looking at my pretty celebrity crushes. And at school, I would look at my seniors with a certain longing. My eyes followed their every beautiful and breathtaking movement. Sometimes, I looked at my own friends too with that same desire.

But my school seemed quite homophobic, extremely so in Primary school. In Secondary school, it was something that you could just feel in the air. I never told anybody about my girl crushes, because I was scared that I would be alienated. I wanted to fit in. I remember clearly that I sometimes prayed fervently to God at night,  Please make me straight! I don’t want to be crooked! Please God, take away these feelings I have.

I tried to suppress myself, tried not to think of girls. And I always felt guilty when my gaze lingered too long on an attractive woman on TV or in magazines. I tried my best not to stare at the pretty girls in school, and the topic of homosexuality always made me tense and afraid. You couldn’t imagine the amount of self-loathing and self-hate I had when I had bad thoughts about girls. Do you know how much I feared the word ‘lesbian’? And when people said it, I felt as though a limelight was shining down on me and all the world was glaring at yours truly, even though I never identified myself as “a lesbian”.

Sucked in and influenced by all the anti-gay attitudes around me; I even made many anti-gay comments together with others. I was homophobic myself.

My best friend turned out to be a lesbian.

I’ve been wearing a rainbow-coloured rubber wristband. You know, those wristbands that come in various colours, first it was a yellow one from the Lance Armstrong Foundation, then there was the dual black/white for anti-racism, and before long, even Giordano and McDonalds were selling them too. I’m not one for fads, so I’ve never owned or bought one in any of the myriad of colours they come in. Except this Rainbow one.

My gf and I bought one each, from a gay shop in Sydney. Our $10 went in support of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade. We put them on as we left the shop, and to me, it was like now I was ‘branded’, I was wearing a visible sign that acknowledges that I am gay. My gf wondered if wearing rainbow wristbands would attract attention and maybe get us beaten up by some anti-gay hooligans.

It was a big step for me, my small triumph of activism. Declaring to the world ‘Hey, I am gay, and I don’t mind letting you know that either.’ Ordinarily, people would not glance twice at me because my appearance fits the stereotype of ‘straight’, but this time, we both felt somewhat self-conscious as we walked back to the train station.

Then the next day drew around. This was Saturday, the day of the big parade. We trailed down to Oxford Street to watch the spectacle. And as I noticed the other glbt people around, it struck me that they were truly Out and Proud, and no, they didn’t have to wear any wristbands to tell people they were gay. Maybe yes their clothing and hairstyles fit the ‘lesbian’ stereotype; looking at them most people would categorise them as dykes. But it didn’t seem like they cared. They seemed to be saying ‘Yes, I have short hair, tank top and other androgynous clothes, tattoos, so looking at me, you probably assume I am a lesbian, but so what, I am what I am, and I don’t have to pretend to rebel against the way that society has stereotyped dykes’’ though not in so many words.

Last Thursday I failed again in my ongoing mission to come out to my aunt and uncle. I have been wanting to take that step, to share with them about myself but have been too chicken. I am scared. Scared of their reaction, scared of the turmoil that might follow.

 

(I am only out to 3 family members, but coming out to this aunt and uncle represents a big step because I am closest to them; my uncle was my legal guardian after my mother passed away, and they continue to look out for, and care for, my sister and me.)

Last Thursday seemed like a better time than most. (And I’ve been told that there will NEVER be a ‘good’ time to come out to family.) It seemed like a good time because 1) we hadn’t planned on meeting them but my sister smsed me in the day and asked if I would be free to have dinner at their house. So it seemed like I was being presented with The Opportunity to meet with them and talk to them, just when I’d been thinking about it. And 2) They seemed to be in a good mood. Light-hearted and friendly. And 3) I was all psyched up after talking to Sandy and Janet, this lesbian couple from California; Sandy’s a pastor, and Janet is a missionary, and they came to visit our church and spend some time with us the week before last. And the main message that spoke to me the most was the fact that we are not here on earth to please other people. We are accountable only to our Heavenly Father. And what’s more, She has a great plan for us. And the fact that She created us Special, as LGBT people, means she wants to use us for Extraordinary things.

There are other Very Good Reasons why I shouldn’t make an issue out of coming out to them. Like the fact that I am an adult; I don’t depend on them for a place to stay; they can’t disown me (not being my parents in the first place); and I am doing nothing wrong by being gay.

Pridemonth is upon us, once again… and though most of us cannot have pride parades in our home country, that does not mean we cannot celebrate Pride. We don’t need pride marches to come out to the world: we can start at home, to our loved ones and friends.

This is a collection of stories on coming out – good and bad, happy and sad, that have been published on Sayoni since we started. [In chronological order]

Coming out Earnestly
by lublub

Girls are beautiful creatures.

I have always thought so. The seniors at school were really pretty. So were the models in magazines and the teenage starlets on TV. I loved looking at their pictures, and I would spend countless hours on the computer looking at my pretty celebrity crushes. And at school, I would look at my seniors with a certain longing. My eyes followed their every beautiful and breathtaking movement. Sometimes, I looked at my own friends too with that same desire.

Read more…

Activism with a band on
by jin

I’ve been wearing a rainbow-coloured rubber wristband. You know, those wristbands that come in various colours, first it was a yellow one from the Lance Armstrong Foundation, then there was the dual black/white for anti-racism, and before long, even Giordano and McDonalds were selling them too. I’m not one for fads, so I’ve never owned or bought one in any of the myriad of colours they come in. Except this Rainbow one.

Read more…

Where do I go from here?
by jin