The Space for Identity

“You should go to church for being gay, it will help fix you.” “Being gay should be
punished with death””Why do you choose to gay? It is a sin.” “She is just pretending to
be a boy, she was born a girl so that's what she is.” “You’re just confused.” “Stop
pushing everything about being gay down our throats, its wrong.” Every one of those
words have been said to me or one of my friends. Time after time I’ve been told how a
part of myself is wrong. Something I can’t control will send me to hell. That I choose to
be a sinner, that I am wrong, I should be punished, that I should hate myself.
All my life I have grown up in a small town. Preschool through middle school, it
had always been the same group of 150 people. Everyone knew everyone. Give me a
kid and I could give you the first and last names of each. I couldn’t hide, I couldn’t go
unnoticed, I knew everyone, and everyone knew me. There was no diversity, I knew
only what was in front of me.
In 7th grade I was talking with a friend of mine,
“I have something to tell you, I’m bi.”
“What do you mean bi? What even is that? You are two, two of what?”
Patiently they explained to me, “I like everyone, all genders, I am part of the
LGBTQ community,” I became a lot more accepting after that, although that wasn’t the
same for everyone. One day, my friend walked into the bathroom. About a minute later
they walked out looking very upset.
They explained that a few girls were already in the bathroom when they walked
in. One of the girls looked over at my friend and said, “Eww get out of here! Gay
people shouldn’t be allowed to use the bathroom.”
The other one chimed in, “Are you going to hit on me? That is so weird.” After that I
never saw them walk to the bathroom again. It wasn’t safe.
At a school dance, my friend and I were hanging out with their girlfriend in some
random corner. They were out of the way, they were aside, not bothering anyone. So
they kissed, but nothing can go unnoticed there. A kid walked up to them and yelled
“Ugh f*&%ing f*gs,” and so my friend punched him in the stomach, and ran off to tell a
teacher. But the school did absolutely nothing. Despite everything they said about a no
tolerance policy, the kid didn’t get into any form of trouble.
That same year one of the teachers hung up a pride flag in her room. Some of
the kids refused to sit anywhere near it. Those kids called it gross and harassed that
teacher for being supportive. Of course many parents heard about this, and many
angry calls were made over the fact a pride flag was in the room. They wouldn’t stop
and this teacher almost got fired. Watching everything happen led to me suppressing,
pushing down, any and all feelings, actions, or thoughts that might be seen as “gay”.
 Then Covid hit, and I wasn’t surrounded by the people who made it so clear that
being gay was wrong. I started to feel more and more safe, and in June 2020 I came
out as bi. In August we went back to school, and one of my friends came out as trans.
Most of the teachers didn’t even try to use her preferred name and pronouns. Her right
to use the bathroom was stripped away. Every, single, day she was called derogatory
names.
People would misgender her just because they thought it was funny, “Oh ya your
friend?? He is a boy, he is just confused, why are you so upset, I’m just joking,” the
school was aware the entire time and didn’t do anything to stop it. There were only 10
students who fully supported her in our grade. In December I started to feel more and
more disconnected from being a girl. I didn’t know who I was, I felt as though I needed
to be a girl. I was born one so that is who I have to be, otherwise that is wrong and I am
faking it. Over and over I watched my friends get harassed, so I didn’t come out to the
majority of people. It wouldn’t be safe. I wouldn’t be safe.
I had no one during the summer of 8th grade, I felt so alone. I didn’t know who I
was, I had so few friends and I felt like none of them would understand. I decided that I
was going to attend a highschool 30 minutes away from where I lived. On the first day I
stepped out of the car, to look around and see a group of people I haven’t known for
the past 10 years. A group of people who didn’t know me. I had a fresh start.
I walked into class and sat down, talking and meeting the new people. At that
moment I was so nervous. What would they think of me? Does my hair look good? Oh
god, what pronouns am I going to use?
And someone asked me exactly that, “Ya so what are your pronouns?” I
panicked, I wasn’t ready for that question.
“I use they/them, thanks for asking.” In anticipation I awaited their reaction, but
there wasn’t one. I felt such a sense of relief, they didn’t care what pronouns I used. I
wasn’t told that I was weird, that I needed to go to church, I was treated like a normal
person.
I hadn’t been able to tell anyone that before. It wouldn’t have been safe to, but
using they/them pronouns filled up a hole within. The piece of me that was missing for
so long, I had finally found. I felt right, I felt like who I was, I felt like me. It was as if
something clicked within. I wasn’t judged over a part of myself I couldn’t control, I was
accepted with no questions asked. I didn’t feel alienated and no longer lived in the
constant fear that I would be bullied, harassed, and threatened, unlike my friends of
the past. I felt safe. I was comfortable. I finally had a space to explore who I was and
didn’t have to suppress anything. I wouldn’t constantly be misgendered by people who
made no effort. Everyone was supportive, everyone would be willing to listen to me,
and everyone respected my identity.