This series reflects my source of healing. The experiences, conversations, and interactions I have had that have helped hold me together and heal the scars on my heart. I wanted to write this series to show the process of healing that comes with this journey. And I also want to use this series to speak not only to the queer community, but to the allies and wannabe allies as well. The last series gave a lot of good examples of what not to do or say. This one focuses on what you should do or say to love on and stand up for your queer friends. This is how people in my life became a source of healing and empowerment for me.
#1: I was coming out to a friend one evening. I was so nervous. I had never talked to her on this topic, but assumed she was conservative about it, as most Christians are. But I had barely gotten a full sentence out before she wrapped her arms around me and said “hey, it’s okay. I love you no matter what.” After a tearful sigh of relief on my end, she then proceeded to ask “so, do you like boobs? What’s your type?” After a good laugh, we had a great and meaningful conversation. Sometimes, coming out can be so much better than you thought it would be. And to the person who may have someone come out to you…be THIS type of friend.
#2: I remember sitting in the living room at a family friend’s house by myself one summer day. I was watching an Olympic soccer match after which one of the starting players, Megan Rapinoe, came out as gay on live television. I wasn’t out at the time. I was in the process of admitting to myself that I was gay and really struggling with it all. I remember how profound this moment was for me…seeing someone I really admired just put herself out there like that. This is why moments like this matter. For many of us, our queer role models have been hidden from us throughout our life. People like me find strength and courage from those moments. We need people to look up to as we press into who we are. Maybe you’re one of those people. Or maybe you can be an ally and champion for the ones who do come out publicly; you never know who they are helping in that moment.
#3: My wife isn’t allowed at my mother’s home. For that reason, we didn’t go to her home for the holidays this past year. One of my sisters got the family together during the holidays and essentially forced a conversation to be had about this issue. I can’t tell you how much that meant to us. We were so exhausted. So tired of trying to have people just consider how ridiculous this type of exclusion is. We were done. But my sister came forward and stood up for us in that moment. She really called out double standards and hypocrisy that was being committed (even at her own expense). I have another sister who has done the same thing countless times…calling out siblings who are being exclusive or unsupportive of us and just straight up letting them know that they are being a jerk. Queer people need this type of support. We can’t speak up for ourselves all the time…especially when we aren’t even present to defend ourselves. Being that sister or brother or friend or parent who ultimately calls out homophobia is what being an ally truly implies. Telling us to our face that you are cool with us, but then doing nothing to call out the people inflicting pain and prejudice towards us is not helpful. Putting yourself out there and actually taking a stand for us is what helpful looks like. So, thank you to all the allies to the queer community who actually take time to stand up for us…it means more than you can imagine. Keep it up!
#4: The friends and family who asked questions are the ones who made themselves safe the fastest when I was first coming out. There is nothing more awkward than telling someone you know really well that you are gay, knowing it was going to be a lot for them to process, and then them never asking you anything about it ever again. Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have ask us things all the time and eventually there is a time when the understanding is clear and/or the queer person is confident in who they are, so there is no longer a need for questions. But in the beginning, especially when the queer person has expressed that they are sorta freaking out, or that they are scared, and/or not out to key people like their family…ask questions. Please, please ask questions. And then LISTEN. Be a good listener. You may not even need to ask very many questions. This is so helpful to them as they process things, it’s going to be helpful to you in understanding your friend more, and it’s a sign that you care. Even if you are a friend or family member who is totally cool with people being queer, that doesn’t mean THEY are totally cool with being queer. Help them out. In the very least, if you are unsure of how to help or unsure if they want or need help, ask them if it would be helpful for them to talk to you about that part of their life. Don’t take this for granted. It could save someone you really love.
#5: My younger sister messaged me one day about a project she was doing in college for a class. I had been out for about 2 years to her at this point. She said in order to get her Teaching Health Certification, she had to do a Community Profile Presentation where she was supposed to choose a community group that is both less familiar to them and is a vulnerable population commonly found within schools. She said “I chose my presentation to be on the LGBT community. Would you be willing to maybe share some questions/topics I could bring up with them that would be good questions to ask? I wanna make sure I ask them stuff that really gets my viewers to understand their community, but I wanna make sure I do it in a professional and sincere way where I don’t offend them with the type of questions I ask.” This was so meaningful to me. For one, it showed me that my sister was trying to understand people like me. Secondly, she cared enough to recognize that the LGBTQ community was a vulnerable group in schools. She also was genuine in wanting to know how to appropriately ask the community questions in order to understand their struggles. This allowed me to share more with her about who I was as well. At this point, I personally felt so invisible sometimes…especially to my family. So to have a family member shine light on the issues people like me face to an entire class in college…it really gave me a boost.
#6: One day I took time to message two particular friends of mine from childhood. They both did not go to my wedding (yeah, yeah…cause I’m gay. Got it). “But know that I love you!”, is always what follows. I just had such a hard time wrapping my mind around the years of memories I had with someone I considered a loyal friend, doing and saying something like that. And then remaining silent since. The silence since their last words felt like an anvil that would just crush me from time to time. So one day, I decided to message them. I was honest. I told them I was hurting and that I wanted to start a new conversation. Both replied. One I called…it was a short conversation and not about the pain. Just catching up. It felt a bit awkward, but I felt good having had the conversation even though this friend didn’t seem interested in addressing how I felt. The other friend arranged to spend time with me in person. We hung out and caught up about other things. I was intentional in not bringing the issue up…the ball was in her court as it was with the other friend. But after a long pause, she finally broke the ice. She said she knew she hurt me and that she was sorry. She said she wasn’t even aware of how hard it was and that she felt foolish for not realizing. She also said she truly couldn’t think of a good reason for her to have treated me different than other friends of hers (ie going to weddings of non Christians). We talked for a while. I opened up about things I had experienced the past year. She was sincerely empathetic and loving. She still has questions about this type of marriage, but is capable of seeing how she hurt me and that she knows she wasn’t justified to have done what she did. It took a few days for the apology to even sink in. I had gotten so used to negative comments, no comments, and the lack of apologies that I was numb. I still am numb, in a lot of ways. But thank you, friend. Thank you for saying sorry. I’ve felt a little bit lighter ever since.
#7: One night I was talking to a friend of mine about how happy I was to have found so many friends who didn’t have any issues with me being gay. I don’t remember all the specifics of the conversation, but at one point he got very serious, looked me in the eyes and said, “Mel, we don’t tolerate you. We love you.” Those words shook me. I found myself meditating on those words for months…I even wrote it on a post-it note and put it on the wall above my desk. I came to realize that I had formed this expectation that toleration was good enough. That this was the best I would likely get from people regarding my identity. But as it turns out, I had low expectations. People could not only tolerate me, but love me. Even THAT part of me. I’m thankful for these seemingly small things people have said that have lifted me up over the years. And for anyone who needs to hear it, you are worthy of more than toleration. You are worthy of love.
#8: One night I was hanging out with some new friends from grad school at one of their apartments. There were about 5 of us gals sitting in a circle, having a drink, and enjoying a good conversation. Then one of them popped a question, “who is your celebrity crush”? How many times have I heard this question amongst my female friends throughout life? I don’t know…a million times!? Don’t get me wrong, it’s an innocent question and can start fun conversations. But when I was younger it caused me some stress at times, because I was a closeted girl who was expected to give a straight reply and was obviously not great at that game (though I eventually came up with answers). Then when I finally came out, this question became EVEN MORE uncomfortable. Similar questions that also caused some anxiety involved questions such as “are you dating anyone”, “is there someone you are interested in”, etc. Now for context, remember that I grew up in a very conservative environment and that was the crowd I hung out with for most of my life (up to this point). So I had a lot of anxieties about these types of questions because I wasn’t sure whether or not an honest reply would create a very awkward moment. So usually, I would just listen to replies from other people in the group and dodge the question to avoid this uncomfortable situation. And quite frankly, up to this point it was common for those friends or family members to go along with that. They often would never ask me those questions directly…I could tell they didn’t want to have that conversation either. It was hard sometimes because I DID have answers, but knew the answers wouldn’t be acceptable.
So back to the original story…I was already out to these new friends, but still not super comfortable with answering the question without knowing for sure it was okay. But as I was sitting there implementing this usual strategy of “listen, be quiet, and try not to be a weirdo”, the friend who asked the question looked at me directly and asked, “what about you, who is your celebrity crush? Tell us about her.” That was a big deal for me. I had this weird mixture of excitement and nervousness to actually tell them who my celebrity crush was…and it ended up being totally fine! It wasn’t weird! There was no awkward pause. There was no lag in conversation. It was just…normal. This then started a conversation of “who is your celebrity crush of the opposite sex you are usually attracted to” and it was totally chill. I guess I write all of this to say…be sure people are not being left out of these seemingly simple conversations. Do what you can to help queer people feel comfortable to answer questions like this (especially when you know it is safe for them to do so).