It Gets Better (14 page)

MARCY, NY

 

 

 

W
hen I was a teenager, back in the '80s, I went to a boarding school. I was ostracized and hazed and mocked for being different. Not only was I dealing with a very, very tough puberty but I was confused by the gay feelings I was starting to have. Add to that confusion my realization that I was also kinky and into leather.

In this close-knit, little boarding school community, I was treated really, really badly. The boys used to write really cruel things on my dorm room door, like “fag” and “homo.” And to this day, I can still remember going to use the bathroom one day and finding all this graffiti written about me on one of the stall walls. The worst of it showed an arrow pointing to my name and, scrawled beneath it, was, “It's because of him we have AIDS.” This was in 1983, when so little was known about AIDS and there was so much fear and panic around the epidemic, so you can imagine just how painful that was.

I felt suicidal at the time. I thought there was no hope for me. I knew I couldn't help these feelings that I was having, and I was stuck in this environment that didn't like or accept me for who I am. I just didn't know if I could go on.

I'm here to let you know that you can go on. There is a whole wonderful world outside this teenage high school environment that you may be feeling oppressed in. And it's a world where you can celebrate who you are, you can embrace who you are, and you can actually have fun being you.

After I left boarding school, I went to UCLA, right in Los Angeles, right near West Hollywood. I discovered a whole new environment that nurtured, supported, and celebrated diversity. It was fun being a gay man there; I actually felt encouraged to go out and experience new things. I met some of the most wonderful people during that time of my life, who liked me because I was different.

I also realized then that the rest of the world is not necessarily as the media portrays it. You have to watch the news and watch political commentary with a grain of salt. You're seeing some extremes on FOX News. It doesn't speak for the rest of the world, and it doesn't speak for the rest of America, either. There is a lot of support out there and a lot of celebration for being a gay person.

I love the life that I'm living right now. If I was given the choice to have any other kind of life, I wouldn't choose another one. I like to say, “When I die, I want to come back as me.” And recently, I went back to my twenty-year high school reunion and brought the man I was seeing. All the guys that I hung out with at the party were the same guys who used to haze me in high school. But they were awesome; they had all grown up, just as I had. In fact, one of them gave me a big hug and said, “You know what? You turned out really, really good despite all the challenges we gave you. And you know what, if I was gay, I'd do ya.”

It does get better. Hang on. I think you are really, really going to enjoy who you are.

NEW CANAAN, CT

 

 

 

G
rowing up in a small, conservative town in Connecticut, I found that being different was not something other kids took well to. I was always the awkward, skinny kid that liked to sing in school talent shows, and most people usually assumed that I was gay. After a while, I felt trapped in the stereotype that all male singers were gay, and grew tired of being treated a certain way for just being myself and pursuing my music.

Middle school became a giant charade for me, as I tried desperately to act cool and prove to everyone that I wasn't gay. I grew my hair out; I tried to act more manly; I only listened to certain singers on my iPod; and I bragged about all the girls I was hooking up with after I got leads in the school musicals. I was suppressing who I really was to please my peers, and I acted like a complete asshole as a result.

But changing myself in order to gain popularity and acceptance wasn't making me any happier. Instead, I discovered that being afraid of my true self was incredibly debilitating, and by high school, I had had enough of the charade. In truth, I not only liked girls but boys, as well. Yet I had become so set on the idea that any form of gayness was a bad thing that I suppressed that side of myself.

In high school, I had to completely relearn how to just be me. Little by little, I clawed out of the hole I had dug for myself and learned to distance myself from the people who didn't accept me. I stopped caring about the way I acted or about what kids I was seen with. I befriended people based on who they really were. I got involved with the school theater program, where I continued to hone my talents. I was around other kids who loved music and performing as much as I did.

The final key to fully accepting myself was coming to terms with my sexuality, something I'd struggled long and hard with. Yet, it is this struggle that's made me who I am today.

Bisexuality is probably one of the more difficult orientations to understand because it's neither black nor white. For years I went back and forth in my mind trying to figure out if it was even possible to like both sexes. But now at eighteen, I can confidently say that I am bi.

Needless to say, the path to acceptance has not been free of obstacles. Much of our society is still extremely homophobic. And many kids get the message that being gay is the worst thing you can be. Getting over that initial belief and reversing the damage it had done to me psychologically was the first step to accepting my orientation. I was also fortunate enough to seek solace in another bisexual schoolmate who came out before I did. She was further proof to me that I was not alone and that other kids struggled with the same issues. With her, I was finally able to experience what it was like to be my true self. I could spend time with her and openly comment on girls and guys without feeling the need to censor myself. Slowly but surely, I came out to my two best friends, both of whom were incredibly accepting.

It wasn't until my junior year in high school that I completely cast aside the apprehension I felt about other people knowing my secret. One evening, at my best friend's Christmas party, I had a conversation with an older musician about orientation that literally changed my life. I'll call him Frank. After talking with him for a while about music, he asked me if I was gay. I was taken aback by his question and told him that I wasn't. Frank then proceeded to ask me if I was bi, to which I fearfully gave the same response. He apologized for being so blunt, but I could tell he knew I was lying. So, eventually, I opened up and told him I was bisexual. He then proceeded to tell me that the moment someone asks you if you're gay and you freeze up and deny it, you're giving that person the power to walk all over you. You're giving them the power to judge you. However, if someone asks you the same question and you immediately, and proudly, respond, “Yeah, got a problem with that?” suddenly you have the power. You're showing that person that you know who you are and you're fine with it.

Frank will probably never know what a profound impact his words had on my life that night. From that moment on, I didn't care what other people thought. I went straight home, logged on to my Facebook page, and proudly wrote that I was attracted to women AND men. I was done hiding. People would just have to take me as I was, otherwise they didn't deserve me at all.

As the week went on, friends confronted me and told me how proud they were that I had made such a brave move. I had my doubts about the way my guy friends would respond to the news, but thankfully, they were all supportive. The news snowballed around school and became a much bigger deal than I ever thought it would be. Unfortunately, the news reached my younger brother before I could tell him myself. He came home from school that afternoon and asked me if the talk around school was true. I simply told him that, while he probably wouldn't understand, I was in fact bisexual. What I didn't know was that he'd go straight to my dad and tell him.

My father did not take the news well. He tried to convince me that my decision to come out was not okay. The next morning he told me he was kicking me out of the house.

Thousands of teens are homeless because their parents don't accept or understand their sexuality, and I could've been one of those kids, had my mom not stepped in that day. Although there was a lot of arguing, my mom assured me that I wasn't going anywhere, and got my dad to back off. With time, the tension in the household eased, but the pain I felt in that situation remains.

It's moments like these that remind me every day that the biggest gift you can give yourself and to others is acceptance. If you can just learn to love yourself for who you are and be the person you were meant to be, it won't matter how many people are against you. Yes, there are probably always going to be closed-minded people who don't condone the LGBT community, and sometimes those people may even be your own parents, but at the same token, there are many more people in today's world who accept people like me with open arms. When I hang out with my straight guy friends and hear them talking about how much they support my different sexuality, I know that times are changing for the better.

I used to suppress who I was, but nowadays, nearly everyone around me accepts and loves me because I have learned to accept and love myself. I'm popular in school because I'm everyone's friend, and I treat others the way that I want to be treated—a far cry from my middle school days. I'm the happiest I have ever been, and I only wish that more teens who are struggling with their sexuality could come to the same realization that I have; that we are all beautiful individuals just the way we are.

WASHINGTON, DC

 

 

 

 

I
'm Senator Al Franken, and I wanted to take a moment to talk about the recent string of suicides by LGBT youth across the country. It's beyond heartbreaking that so many students have taken their own lives for being bullied for being gay or perceived as gay.

To any young people out there who are reading this, you may feel alone and that there's nothing you can do, but you're not alone. There are people who want to help, so please reach out to someone. If you don't feel like you can talk to somebody in your family or community, you can call the Trevor Project—a totally anonymous hotline that you can call twenty-four hours a day to talk to someone. The number is 866-4-U-TREVOR.

Just know that there are people and communities all across this country who care about you and are working to make your lives better. I, and more than twenty-five of my colleagues in the Senate, am taking part in this effort. We're working hard to pass a law that would provide you with the same legal protection against discrimination and bullying as other students have now.

And it will get better. When you're in school I know many of you feel pressured to fit in and be like everyone else. And that means, sometimes, hiding who you really are. But you can believe me when I tell you that once you leave school, once you start making more choices for yourself, you'll find that the same things that made you feel different in high school are what make you interesting and unique.

Bullying is a deadly serious and an all-too-frequent part of school life. And, tragically, it's often ignored by teachers or administrators. This needs to change. It does get better, and we are going to make it better. Visit my website at
Franken.Senate.Gov
to learn how you can help.

SAN FRANCISCO, CA

 

 

 

I
'm a transsexual woman. I grew up in rural Canada in really conservative surroundings, and in a rather conservative family. I went to a pretty conservative school as well, and when I was growing up, it was all about conforming, fitting in, and doing what was expected of me. I was never even able to think about issues like my gender identity or sexual orientation until I had grown up. In my high school, you just had to fit in. It wasn't a particularly bad time for me; there was just no opportunity for expressing or discovering myself then.

I always felt awkward and different, but that was all I knew, so I came to assume that that was just what being alive feels like. This is high school we're talking about, after all. So I learned how to fit in, and I think I did pretty well at it. I'm mostly gay, so living as a boy and being attracted to girls didn't create any problems. I love hockey and pizza, too, so there you go.