Roxie
09-18-2006, 01:17 AM
This was written by my friend Lucas. I think it's extremely well written and highly inspirational. I think everyone I know should read it at least once!
My mom wore this wonderful perfume. It came in a clear glass bottle. Black top. Golden liquid fragrance. Ferré I think. Not sure. I know it came immaculately packaged in a decorative box. But what interested me the most was the fact that every bottle came wrapped with a little stretchy black band. And hanging off this black bland was a diamond! Not a real one though. A plastic one. The size of a quarter at least. Wow, I thought it was so beautiful. It was clear and sparkled – even cut like a real stone! But my mom didn't seem to care for it as much. When a new bottle came, the band was removed and tossed aside or in the trash. She wanted the contents. My mom didn't see what I did. So I took it for myself. Just look at it!
I stashed it in my backpack on the way to school. What was it....6th grade? Wouldn't the kids at school think it's lovely? I was so excited. This was a new school. My family had just recently moved to Vicksburg from Clinton. A time to make new friends. After my mom dropped me off, I removed the diamond from my bag (can you believe I swiped it from the trash?) and put it on – as my new bracelet of course! Perfect fit. I felt special. Not every kid gets his own diamond. I marched to class with pride.
...
When I look back on my life, I think I can pinpoint the moment when I learned to hate myself. When I learned that is wasn't OK to be myself. When my life's goal was to fit in. No one liked my diamond. The one on the stretchy black band. They hated it! Are you a girl? Why are you wearing a bracelet? Are you a faggot? Why would you do that? One laugh erupted into what seemed like hundreds. I forced a smile and laughed too. I'm not a baby. I'm not gonna cry. They were just trying to help me, right? So I took it off. I'm not a girl. I'm not a faggot. Gross! But you see...I just couldn't do anything right. You talk funny. You walk funny. I tried so hard to change! People liked me better when I did.
I just knew I was ugly. I went home and cried, releasing those terribly heavy emotive sighs while sipping on my Coca Cola. If I was handsome, they would like me. If I wasn't so skinny, they wouldn't think I was a girl. If I talked deeper, they wouldn't call me a faggot. The mirror became the focus of my life. Don't be yourself Lucas. Don't listen to music you like. Don't say what you want to say. Don't be gay. Remember what your art teacher said. God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.
So that was the plan. And no one tried to follow it more closely than me. I completely denied myself from any sexual thought. I can remember...like...even tame magazines like People. If there was a cute guy in there, I wouldn't look. I absolutely refused to think of myself as anything but heterosexual. I didn't even privately identify myself as gay until the 10th grade. And I cannot tell you how much it hurt. Here I was, turning into everything that everybody vehemently accused me of that made my life miserable. I didn't want them to win.
I was still ugly. Still so skinny. They still said I talked funny. I couldn't come out in this position! Just what the world needs, I'd say, another ugly queer. I'd prove them wrong by being gorgeous and built and masculine. Won't they be surprised to find out who I really am?!
So started another vicious cycle of hating myself, because I was once again reaching for something other than my true identity – that lasted until my sophomore year at MC.
I am leaving out so many details. So much pain. So many stories. But I think it's important for people to realize how detrimental homophobia is. It completely raped me of my childhood and stunted my development as a human being. I can honestly say I didn't make my first friend until college. I couldn't let anyone close to me or they would find out the truth. The pain runs deep.
When I say God's plan for me is to be homosexual, I don't say it lightly. I don't say it to justify "immoral behavior." Coming out made me somebody. I have an identity. I have quirks. I talk my ass off about anything. I surround myself with good people. I love people and for once, I actually feel loved back. Coming out is the hardest thing in the world – being out is the easiest. I've never been so happy.
If you hide your diamond, you'll never shine.
http://photos-072.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v46/148/12/61702271/n61702271_30199072_574.jpg
My mom wore this wonderful perfume. It came in a clear glass bottle. Black top. Golden liquid fragrance. Ferré I think. Not sure. I know it came immaculately packaged in a decorative box. But what interested me the most was the fact that every bottle came wrapped with a little stretchy black band. And hanging off this black bland was a diamond! Not a real one though. A plastic one. The size of a quarter at least. Wow, I thought it was so beautiful. It was clear and sparkled – even cut like a real stone! But my mom didn't seem to care for it as much. When a new bottle came, the band was removed and tossed aside or in the trash. She wanted the contents. My mom didn't see what I did. So I took it for myself. Just look at it!
I stashed it in my backpack on the way to school. What was it....6th grade? Wouldn't the kids at school think it's lovely? I was so excited. This was a new school. My family had just recently moved to Vicksburg from Clinton. A time to make new friends. After my mom dropped me off, I removed the diamond from my bag (can you believe I swiped it from the trash?) and put it on – as my new bracelet of course! Perfect fit. I felt special. Not every kid gets his own diamond. I marched to class with pride.
...
When I look back on my life, I think I can pinpoint the moment when I learned to hate myself. When I learned that is wasn't OK to be myself. When my life's goal was to fit in. No one liked my diamond. The one on the stretchy black band. They hated it! Are you a girl? Why are you wearing a bracelet? Are you a faggot? Why would you do that? One laugh erupted into what seemed like hundreds. I forced a smile and laughed too. I'm not a baby. I'm not gonna cry. They were just trying to help me, right? So I took it off. I'm not a girl. I'm not a faggot. Gross! But you see...I just couldn't do anything right. You talk funny. You walk funny. I tried so hard to change! People liked me better when I did.
I just knew I was ugly. I went home and cried, releasing those terribly heavy emotive sighs while sipping on my Coca Cola. If I was handsome, they would like me. If I wasn't so skinny, they wouldn't think I was a girl. If I talked deeper, they wouldn't call me a faggot. The mirror became the focus of my life. Don't be yourself Lucas. Don't listen to music you like. Don't say what you want to say. Don't be gay. Remember what your art teacher said. God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.
So that was the plan. And no one tried to follow it more closely than me. I completely denied myself from any sexual thought. I can remember...like...even tame magazines like People. If there was a cute guy in there, I wouldn't look. I absolutely refused to think of myself as anything but heterosexual. I didn't even privately identify myself as gay until the 10th grade. And I cannot tell you how much it hurt. Here I was, turning into everything that everybody vehemently accused me of that made my life miserable. I didn't want them to win.
I was still ugly. Still so skinny. They still said I talked funny. I couldn't come out in this position! Just what the world needs, I'd say, another ugly queer. I'd prove them wrong by being gorgeous and built and masculine. Won't they be surprised to find out who I really am?!
So started another vicious cycle of hating myself, because I was once again reaching for something other than my true identity – that lasted until my sophomore year at MC.
I am leaving out so many details. So much pain. So many stories. But I think it's important for people to realize how detrimental homophobia is. It completely raped me of my childhood and stunted my development as a human being. I can honestly say I didn't make my first friend until college. I couldn't let anyone close to me or they would find out the truth. The pain runs deep.
When I say God's plan for me is to be homosexual, I don't say it lightly. I don't say it to justify "immoral behavior." Coming out made me somebody. I have an identity. I have quirks. I talk my ass off about anything. I surround myself with good people. I love people and for once, I actually feel loved back. Coming out is the hardest thing in the world – being out is the easiest. I've never been so happy.
If you hide your diamond, you'll never shine.
http://photos-072.ak.facebook.com/ip002/v46/148/12/61702271/n61702271_30199072_574.jpg