Support System

Much apologies for forgetting last Monday. To make up for it this one will be a bit of a long read. Also mostly because I've had words in my brain all week and want to get it out there.

So this past two weeks or so I've been having very real and frank conversations with lots of people. Most of these were with my roommates and close friends, but I'm slowly branching out to family. That may seem kinda backwards for some people, or so I've been told before. Many a councilor and church leader who I've discussed my sexuality and depression with have asked if I have a support group of sorts. Not like a group that meets every week called 'Lesbians Anonymous' or something, but people I talk to and that know the situation I'm in. When I would say yes, it was always followed with the apparently unsatisfactory answer of the names of my close friends. Every one of them, without fail, said that that wasn't good enough...I needed to tell my family. This always made me scared and angry and all sorts of other things. "Don't you understand? I can't tell my family". The idea was so scary to me. Family would always be there, which is why they make a much stronger support, but it's also why I didn't want them to know. If they reacted badly and didn't care to understand then that would be the relationship I would be stuck with for the rest of my life. I interacted with my friends on a more regular basis, especially since coming to college and having them as roommates and such. In my mind it seemed like the people who I was around more would be the better choice to tell.

It's taken me years to understand this was not the right idea. I would even go so far as to say it didn't really click until this last weekend. I understand now that since high school I've been trying to find someone that could be my support. Someone who would be there to lean on no matter what, and knew everything I was going through...and would be a constant in my life. I could never understand why I couldn't find someone who could be that for me. I really tried. I stretched myself to the breaking point, and others as well, trying to make them into something they couldn't be. I wanted consistency and unconditional love that wasn't their job to provide. I needed my family.

Slowly I told them, starting with my brothers. I got more understanding than I ever thought I would get from them (on this particular issue). I felt so much closer to them over this one thing, because I had shut myself off from them before. We don't really talk about my being gay, but I don't feel like I have to hide myself from them anymore. They can be a part of ALL of my life now. My parents are a little different story. They've really known since about my freshman year in college, but I never actually said anything and came out until this last Christmas. We never talk about it. It feels like this topic is no longer on the table. It feels almost just as bad as not telling them was. I feel cut off, and hidden. It makes me feel like it's still a part of me that I'm supposed to be ashamed of. And I know that I shouldn't expect instant understanding. I didn't even have that for myself when I came out to myself. It's taken me seven years to get to where I am today, being truly okay with myself and loving me for it.

This weekend I had a small wake up call from a good friend of mine. She reminded me that while friends are great to have, and coming out to random strangers is fun and a bit relieving, it's really the important people in my life who I should be talking to. I'm not saying that friends can't be good support or important people (but probably not the strangers at Walmart). I really don't know how I could have gotten through a lot of life without my friends. I'm just saying that I realized that I need my family. I need them to be my support. I need them to know, even if they don't quite understand. These people are the most important people in my life and I want them to know who I am and what I go through. Being lesbian is a reality of my life that is always going to be there, as will my religion (Mormon), experiences, and my family. I will always have these parts of me because they shape who I am.

I am generally a big believer of talking about things. I would always rather talk with you and be offended than continue to live in silence. Having kept this part of me a secret for so long I can tell you that in takes a huge amount of energy and strength not to talk about it. It weighs you down everyday that it goes unsaid. I know I've waited a long time for other people to want to talk about it, but I think I need to step up and be the one that starts it. Don't take them for granted. Let the important people in. They may need it as much as you do.

~Bridey J

Never Give Up, Never Surrender!

Forgive my lack of originality today, but this has been stuck in my head all week...I promise I explain why at the bottom.

by Dee Groberg

The Race

"Quit, give up, you're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
"There's just too much against you now.
This time you can't succeed."

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure's face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race.

And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene,
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates my being.

A child's race, young boys, young men
How I remember well,
Excitement sure! But also fear.
It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope
Each thought to win the race,
Or tie for 1st or if not that
At least take 2nd place.

And fathers watched from off the sides
Each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his Dad
That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went
Young hearts and hopes afire
To win to be the hero there
Was each young boys desire.

And one boy in particular
Whose Dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought,
"My Dad will be so proud!"

But as he speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win
Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace
And mid the laughter of the crowd
He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell and with him hope
He couldn't win it now...
Embarrassed, sad he only wished
To disappear somehow.

But as he fell his Dad stood up
And showed his anxious face
Which to the boy so clearly said:
"Get up and win the race!"

He quickly rose, no damage done,
Behind a bit, that's all
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself
To catch up and to win.
His mind went faster than his legs
He slipped and fell again.

He wished that he had quit before
With only one disgrace,
"I'm hopeless as a runner now.
I shouldn't try to race."

But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his Father's face,
That steady look that said again,
"Get up and win the race!"

So up he jumped to try again
Ten yards behind the last,
"If I'm going to gain those yards," he thought
"I've got to move real fast!"

Exerting everything he had
He regained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead
He slipped and fell again!

Defeat! He lay there silently
A tear dropped from his eye.
"There's no sense running anymore
Three strikes; I'm out; why try!"

The will to rise had disappeared
All hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error-prone:
A loser all the way.

"I've lost so what's the use?" He thought
"I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his Dad
Who soon he'd have to face.

"Get up" an echo sounded low
"Get up and take your place,
You were not meant for failure here,
Get up and win the race!"

"With borrowed will, Get up" It said,
"You haven't lost at all,
For winning is no more than this
To rise each time you fall."

So up he rose to run once more
And with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose
At least he wouldn't quit.

So far behind the others now
The most he'd ever been,
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win.

Three times he'd fallen stumbling
Three times he rose again,
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end.

They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed the line 1st place,
Head high, and proud and happy
No falling, no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer
For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he'd won the race
To listen to the crowd.

And to his Dad he sadly said,
"I didn't do so well,"
"To me you won!" his Father said
"You rose each time you fell."

And now when things seem dark and hard
And difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy
Helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race
With ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win
Is rise each time you fall.

"Quit, Give up, You're beaten."
They still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says,
"Get up and win the race."

I know it's really easy to pick out all the religious symbolism in this, but I hardly ever read it that way. I look at it from a general life perspective. Life is gonna be really hard sometimes. What may not seem a big deal to some may be a mountain to others. Sometimes you're going to fall, have horrible days, weeks, months or years...i don't know. But I really do believe that you need to keep trying. If someone can't get up, help them. If you need help, don't be afraid to ask. I know I've had some days where the only thing I felt I could do was just stay in bed and try again the next morning. This week has also not treated my very kindly. And it gives you that feeling like when you're well and you think you're never sick, but as soon as you're sick the only thing you think is "I have always been sick and will never be well again!" But I really think you only truly fail at life when you stop trying all together. Never give up.

~Bridey J

Friends Can Make the Difference

The last few weeks I've been talking a lot to my roommates. They're amazing girls. I think the thing I like most about them is how they make me feel when I'm around them.

With roommates in the past, the fact that I'm a lesbian was something that everyone skirted around very lightly. I have had a few who would talk about it very openly with me, and most of them remain my friends today. With the majority of them, however, it either became an issue in some way or something we just swept under the rug never to speak of again. Like the big giant glitter-covered rainbow-colored hippo in the bathtub that nobody wants to mention. Sometimes I was grateful for the silence, because it meant they had no plans to grab their torch and pitchforks anytime soon. But mostly I hated it. I hated never talking about it, and more so feeling like I wasn't allowed to. Feeling like everything I did was screaming at them "I like girls!" and so I needed to stop it. They knew the truth, but it felt more like they were trying to pretend it wasn't so. Wishing and hoping that it would go away soon...like I once did. I thought that was getting the good end of the "coming out" process. The fact that no one immediately said "you know you're going to hell, right?" was a huge step for me.

Then I met these girls. If it comes up it's never a big deal. We talk and joke and everything else like it's just another normal part of life. Because it is! I've noticed that it almost feels like it's not this huge thing on everyone's mind anymore. At first I thought it was like before, when people wouldn't really take it seriously. Treating it like it was some other thing that would just go away if left alone. Then I realized it's the opposite. This is a part of life, but no more than the fact that my roommate likes boys. A little different, but nothing to be scared of. It feels amazing to feel good about this part of me, that I don't think I fully accepted because I still felt I had to hide it. Now I don't. I've told other people and have found that it's not really a big deal. Not to make it sound like I'm belittling this part of myself, but the opposite. It's just another part of who I am and people are okay with who I am. And if they're not, I still have people who are and love it.

Don't give up ever. There are people who will love you for every part of you, and they are worth waiting for and finding. Life feels so good when you know you're being your true self and being loved for it.

~Bridey J