That Tall Redhead – CONTENT WARNING: This coming out story contains description and/or discussion about self-harming behaviour and suicide.
Oh boy oh boy what an adventure it has been. My story is not yet over, unlike many of my companions I have met along the way. So, I would like to tell their stories too.
Beautiful humans they were, always the ones that made me smile and forget my own plights even if just for a second.
My first queer friend I had was a girl I met in grade school. She was so full of colour and life, the teachers always commented on her smile. She was my best friend and trouble makers we were. Year after year though, I witnessed her colour fade and her smile become forced. I never even knew she was queer until rumors began dancing around school. It was a small minded town, with small minded tendencies. And I too, fell into its trap. Different was bad, the whole Adam and Eve schmuck. My parents told me to stay away from her, but why? I couldn’t figure out. I was told to be mean to her because she wasn’t right, but I couldn’t do that. She had been my best friend for years. So very quickly the girl that could make everyone smile made everyone turn away in disgust, oh the irony of just wanting to love. I followed my parents orders when I knew I should not have, but at the time I was more terrified of them than losing a friend. Blood is thicker than water after all. She confronted me in the restroom one day, begging me to not go and leave her like everyone else had. My heart was breaking for her, my best friend. I still did not understand really what the problem was, I just knew that everyone else was not okay with it. I remember very vividly looking at her in that moment. She looked so scared and frightened, but also… resolved. I said nothing to her, I did not know what to say. And the next day, her parents found her body with deep slashes across her wrists. I had lost my best friend due to the ignorance of others. I often wonder if I had said something to her in the restroom that would have changed her mind. The most disturbing thing about it all is, thugs went back to “normal” after her funeral. Her parents took her younger brother and moved across the country. Where there were no whispers of a gay little girl that committed suicide. To everyone else, those were two of the largest sins to be committed. For me, I just missed my friend.
Riley was a light, a beacon that shone brighter than anyone else I’ve ever met. And it’s a tragic tale that her light was snuffed out. Now, years down the line I still remember her face. Sometimes it haunts me, other times she makes me smile. But overall, I feel the resolve too. Not the resolve to end life but the resolve to make it better. No one should go through what she went through.
At the ripe age of 16 I met a boy that was as smart and brilliant as they come. I was not as close to him as I was Riley, but he was a companion none the less. Instead of knowing him for years however, I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 5 months. Because that summer, he came out to his parents as gay and the cycle that began 4 years prior with Riley started all over again. The whispers, the shunning. The whole mess of it. I saw his brilliant mind become clouded with darkness after that and I went to him. Begging him not to do it because there was so much out there outside of that hellhole town. I thought I got through to him, I really did. I did not want to lose another friend. But two weeks later I still did. And the world lost another bright light. He could’ve found the cure to cancer, or found a eco friendly renewable energy source. He had the smarts for it. But like the fate of many others, we will never know.
I have known many that I will never know again and that no one else will ever meet. Too many. This world seems to be shrouded by hatred and darkness. No one is willing to just help each other. I used to think that, and sometime I still do when I’m in a bad place.
When I was 16, the winter after losing him, I began to feel things that I had always suppressed. It was terrifying. If anyone had found out then no doubt I would succumb to the same fate as my friends. So I told no one what I thought, I lied to my family and friends and even to myself. My whole community. I was depressed for years because I was constantly suppressing myself. University though, that was a godsend. At 18 I left my small little town and went to the city. Still though, I never said anything. That is until my lab partner began freely expressing his interest in men. It was quite the shock, to actually witness it. I began to feel somewhat…. safe. Not accepted, seeing as I myself had not yet vocalized anything. But safe nonetheless, nothing bad had happened to him and there he was freely expressing himself. I began doing my research. To figure what I really was and maybe help explain why I was feeling what I was feeling. I had never been able to do that when I was younger thanks to my parents consistant monitoring. But with public university computers, well, anything is possible. I learned more about the queer community in that single semester than I had about anything else. It made me feel… light, and airy.
I was having a conversation with my roommate and some friends during my second semester about sports. We were out at lunch when I was asked if I played any when I was younger. I told them I played a lot of different sports, but softball was my longest running one fo 14 years until an injury took me out. It seemed like a normal conversation, I thought nothing of it. Until I heard “Oh wow, are you a lesbian then?” My head jerked up from my turkey sub and against my own consent I became very nervous and shaky. I stumbled out the question “what do you mean?” To which I was then provided with the answer that it was stereotypical that lesbians played softball and nothing was meant by it other than a joke. But that joke rang in my head like a bell for weeks. Was I a lesbian? I had never really admitted anything to myself before. Did I have to?
Years after, I came to understand that I didn’t. No label is necessary to be happy, some people go by them and others don’t. Half of one, dozen of another really. I found happiness within myself because I realized that as long as I knew who I was then everything would be okay. More than anything, I wish I could go back and express this to those that I have lost. Perhaps then my friend Riley would still be here. But I cannot change the past, just the future. It’s all we can really do. I do not want to place any more flowers or premature headstones and I doubt anyone else does either.
So, my friends, if you are in a troublesome place where you do not know what to do or say- just breathe. Everything will be okay. Keep your head up, this is only the beginning. And for the sake of my lost comrades and many others that no longer shine with us, do not give up. For the fight has only begun. We are all human and we all deserve the right to love and be happy, regardless of what we identify as. Do not be afraid.
Best regards,
That Tall Redhead <3
Oh, and remember- the actual saying is “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” 🙂
. Finally, I could start being me, whatever that meant.