Growing up in a place where being part of the LGBTQ2IA+ community is not widely accepted, I was homophobic. No one said outright that being gay is bad. However, “gay” was being used as a slur, an insult. I understood and took to heart the underlying implication that gay equals bad or less than. Furthermore, it was also implied that more feminine men were not “manly” enough and more masculine girls are just “tomboys” that will eventually grow out of that phase. I was one of those “tomboys”. I enjoyed hanging out with my guy friends, never understood what the deal of dresses and skirts were and what was that blusher thing every girl was talking about? But I’m going to grow out of it right? (Spoiler alert, young Chris, you still don’t understand makeup, but you will learn to appreciate your blend of masculinity and femininity you have with the collective help of Sanvers, AvaLance, Wayhaught, Hollstein, and their friends and family.)
At the age of 13 or 14, a close friend of mine came out to me as bisexual, being a child that lived in a “protected” little bubble, I had no idea what that meant. The only form of education I had on the LGBTQ2IA+ community back then included a one-hour session on gay and transgender people, which is less than sufficient, to say the least. I had no idea what “bisexual” meant!
That all changed when I moved to Canada. I got hooked on shows like Supergirl and Legends of Tomorrow. I was interested in the LGBTQIA+ community, how could I not be? The acceptance that Canada had allowed me to look at the community as something that was not to be feared. It allowed me to look at the community as what I see today: a community that houses the most amazing people you will ever meet, people that have spectacular stories, people that I now surround myself with. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there is to know about this wonderful community and the battles they have fought. Hence, I identified as an… ally. (That… did not last very long…)
Fast forward a few months, I fell for the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I had 2 classes with her: drama and biology. Upon making it to biology class a few minutes late one day, I started panicking when I realize the only free seat was the seat beside her that held her bag. I panicked looking around desperately trying to find a seat that would not require me to talk to the beautiful girl that was out of my league even as a friend. In the midst of what I would now describe as “gay panic”, she turned around and called out my name, asking me to sit beside her. Her, the beautiful and popular girl knew me, the awkward new kid’s name. (I guess you can say that was when I started a long list of reasons I like her, “nice and kind person” being on top of the list) In the words of John Green, “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” I honestly cannot tell you if it is love, but for the sake of me wanting to use that quote, let’s assume it is.
My discovery of my sexuality was the same way, for me it was not a sudden realization of “Oh, well then, guess I’m gay.” It started with a gradual “it would appear that I am indeed having feelings for this beautiful girl that I am going to question for the next few months because how could I possibly be gay? Pfttt, I am Asian, I’m not gay.” to a fast-paced, “Ha! Suckers! I’m bi!” which then became “Ok… so maybe I’m pan?” which finally became, “Ya know what? I’m queer. I like people, I have preferences but I like everyone and I like this label and so HA! I’M QUEER!” The thing is, even when I was living where I was born and was homophobic, it had always mattered more to me who someone was as a person, the other stuff? They were all secondary.
My first time coming out to someone who I was unsure whether or not was part of the community was… wait for it… the beautiful girl that knew my name. Yes, I, Chris, came out to the girl I liked in true Chris fashion: on accident. I was helping her with her art assignment because I am to this day unable to say no to people, especially people who are, beautiful, nice and kind. I was trying to help her draw grid lines (you know those ones that are supposed to help you using ratios). I was slowly getting frustrated with myself for my inability to draw straight lines even while using a straight edge, (hint, hint) when she took the paper from me and drew in the lines using the marks I made using my carefully calculated but poorly marked dots. Upon finishing it, she lifted it off the table, smiled at me and said “See, it’s straight, it’s fine,” me still slightly displeased with my inability to draw a straight line muttered, “Yeah, about as straight as I am.” Upon realizing what I just said, I looked up and saw her laughing a little before replying with “ha, good one,” before returning to what she was doing. This brought me to laughter, realizing that I came out to her with a pun. (Not my best work) I later found out she suspected, apparently I wasn’t very subtle, who knew wearing three pride bands, flannels and a backwards pride hat was being obvious? (Well then, either my family is extremely oblivious or they are just praying really hard that I am just an ally)
I was fortunate enough to come out to someone who was accepting. (This helped me be boldly queer in school) I mean sure I live in Canada, but I have learnt that even Canada where LGBTQ2IA+ folks are known to be the most accepted consists of homophobic people. That being said, I have learnt to surround myself with people that are accepting and have my back.
I wish I could say that this journey is all sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could say that even though I was nervous, I came out to my family and they were accepting. I wish I could say that I’m out and proud. But the truth is, this journey I have been on, hasn’t been the greatest. Sure, discovering this new side of me was a thrill, meeting these amazing and accepting people have made me so much happier, but the thought of coming out to my family still terrifies me. As sad as it is, I genuinely do not see a future where they truly accept me for who I am, and what is upsetting to me is not that I would lose my biological family but rather the inevitable guilt that would come along with it. The guilt of not being that good Asian child that takes care of their parents, the guilt of not getting married and having biological children, the guilt that scares me away from exploring my culture, because my culture came from them and how dare I just pick and use the parts I like?
I fight a similar war when it comes to my sexuality. Someone once mentioned that if I was really proud of my sexuality, I wouldn’t hide it. Implying that I should tell my family. I know they meant well, but that hit somewhat of a nerve, part of me knew that we should only ever come out when we know it’s safe to do so, but part of me wondered if they were right? How dare I use the people of the LGBTQ2IA+ community, when I can’t even tell the people that are supposed to be the closest to me about them?
I know it sounds harsh to say that what upsets me about possibly losing my biological family was the guilt aspect and not the actual people but I have spent so long wondering if what I had is truly what family was supposed to feel like. If family meant taking up as many courses as you can to minimize your time at home. If family meant being afraid of them. If family meant thinking that who you are is unacceptable. Then perhaps, as selfish as it is, family isn’t something I want to be a part of.
Despite me being able to say that and convince myself of that, I still feel guilty. They fed me, they kept me alive for 18 damn years. They gave up their jobs, family and lives to move to Canada to give me and my brother a better life. Why can’t I just push the part that likes anything but cisgender men aside? They have given up so much, why can’t I just give this one thing up? Why do I have to be queer? For once in my life, why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why can’t I just be a girl that likes makeup, dresses and boys? Why?
Because I like girls, I like their pretty eyes and warm hugs. Because I like non-binary people, I like their warm smiles and lovely voices. Because I like boys, I like their amazing hair and wonderful laughter. Because I like people, I like their stories and humanity. And shouldn’t that be something good?
