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.

After reading Thio Su Mien’s article on TODAY, i experienced a waterfall of emotions.

I was aghasted at how people can manipulate research and present it according to their agenda. Without consideration of what the general field is saying. To lie when they have to. To speculate and put forth their conjectures as ultimate truth.

I realized also… that TODAY does not check the veracity of her statements. And how can i blame them? They are not psychologists. And the rest of the world is as ignorant of the discipline.

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.

Follow your heart… Love is not a crime….

*From a poster put up and designed by NUS Arts Club*

St. Valentine’s Story  Let me introduce myself.  My name is Valentine.  I lived in Rome during the third century.  That was long, long ago! At that time, Rome was ruled by an emperor named Claudius.  I didn’t like Emperor Claudius, and I wasn’t the only one! A lot of people shared my feelings.

Claudius wanted to have a big army.  He expected men to volunteer to join.  Many men just did not want to fight in wars.  They did not want to leave their wives and families.  As you might have guessed, not many men signed up.  This made Claudius furious.  So what happened? He had a crazy idea.  He thought that if men were not married, they would not mind joining the army.  So Claudius decided not to allow any more marriages.  Young people thought his new law was cruel.  I thought it was preposterous! I certainly wasn’t going to support that law! Did I mention that I was a priest? One of my favourite activities was to marry couples.  Even after Emperor Claudius passed his law, I kept on performing marriage ceremonies — secretly, of course.  It was really quite exciting.  Imagine a small candlelit room with only the bride and groom and myself.  We would whisper the words of the ceremony, listening all the while for the steps of soldiers.

One night, we did hear footsteps.  It was scary! Thank goodness the couple I was marrying escaped in time.  I was caught.  (Not quite as light on my feet as I used to be, I guess.) I was thrown in jail and told that my punishment was death. I tried to stay cheerful.  And do you know what? Wonderful things happened.  Many young people came to the jail to visit me.  They threw flowers and notes up to my window.  They wanted me to know that they, too, believed in love.

One of these young people was the daughter of the prison guard.  Her father allowed her to visit me in the cell.  Sometimes we would sit and talk for hours.  She helped me to keep my spirits up.  She agreed that I did the right thing by ignoring the Emperor and going ahead with the secret marriages.  On the day I was to die, I left my friend a little note thanking her for her friendship and loyalty.  I signed it, “Love from your Valentine.” I believe that note started the custom of exchanging love messages on Valentine’s Day.  It was written on the day I died, February 14, 269 A.D.  Now, every year on this day, people remember.  But most importantly, they think about love and friendship.  And when they think of Emperor Claudius, they remember how he tried to stand in the way of love, and they laugh — because they know that love can’t be beaten!

Taken from: http://www.pictureframes.co.uk/pages/saint_valentine.htm