I pulled onto the lonely highway in
western Cache valley, set my sights on the horizon, and let my foot fall heavy
on the accelerator as Kelly Clarkson sang “Breakaway” at full blast. In the
early light of that August morning there was hardly another soul on the road.
The sun was breaking hard and bright over the mountains behind me. And as the
reality of my packed car hit me, I couldn't help but laugh with glee. I was leaving.
I was finally free. That night I pulled into my friends’ driveway in central
Seattle, and after unloading my things and spending some time with my hosts, I
fell into a deep sleep in my new home.
It’s been almost five months now.
Every once in a while I get a glimpse, a reminder of my life back in Utah, and
I realize that I've already forgotten how different things were. And in that
moment I thank God for Seattle. When I put my life in Provo side by side with
my life in Seattle, the difference is stark. Perhaps the most obvious
difference is the lack of secrecy in my life here. Seattle is a special city,
though I’m sure most metropolitan areas share this to some degree. Here, the
people share a common, low-maintenance attitude: as long as you’re not a jerk,
we don’t have a problem with you. As I became acquainted with my classmates,
being gay and from Mormon Utah were both very poignant things for me to claim.
Every one of my classmates was warm and accepting. These things didn't change
who I was to them. They were simply “flavorings” on my personality.
I’ll admit, I went into a bit of an
identity crisis in the first couple of months when being gay and Mormon wasn't
something I could cling to anymore. As those identifiers lost their potency,
all that was left was being “Nick." I don’t think I've ever had an
opportunity quite like this where I was granted such an extensive freedom to
determine what that meant. At first, it was intimidating. Then, it was
exciting. Now, it is freeing. I don’t have to cling to “gay” or “post-Mormon.”
I don’t have to cling to anything to fit. I am me, and I am in a place where
that is enough for people.
Having been in Seattle for election
season, I got to see a whole new world. Signs like “College Republicans: You’re
not alone!” or “Capitalism isn't working! Socialism is the answer” told me that
I wasn't in Kansas (or Provo!) anymore. I was able to vote in a state that went
Blue for the first time in my life. And I was able to see the numbers come in
as my fellow Washingtonians voted to include me and my love into the law and
into daily life. The passing of Referendum 74 was very moving for me. And the
campaign, seeing the green “Yes on 74!” signs everywhere, was amazing. For the
first time in my life my neighbors were actively working to include me and my
love, me as-is. The peace and inclusion I feel is something I did not get in
Utah.
Dating was also different. I found
that boys here have less internal angst than in Utah, and they don’t feel
pressure to cling to stereotypes. They feel free and comfortable being open
about themselves, no matter who they are. It was quite the experience to
explore Capitol Hill, the gay district where rainbow flags are hung over
doorways, and to see pairs of eyes following me every now and again. As you
might imagine, it was a great confidence boost!
Most satisfying, though, was walking
hand in hand with my date through Pike’s Place on the pier. Instead of glares
and stares, people would approach us and tell us how cute we were. We would
hear people whisper about how adorable it was to see us. That kind of subtle
acceptance and valuing of my relationship was more rewarding than I expected.
I have been in a relationship for
almost four months now. I found a good Christian boy who views spirituality and
religion like I do, who is comfortable with himself, and who has no
apprehension about taking my hand in the grocery store or in church as we
recite the Lord’s prayer. In comparison the little subtleties become so stark.
I think that the most powerful
difference, though, is the way Seattle has allowed me to love and accept myself
as I am. Even in places like USGA where I was free to be authentic about my
sexuality, there was always this sense of rebellion, of swimming upstream.
Things have finally settled here in the Pacific Northwest, and the naysayers
don’t have the same emotional power over me like they used to. I can finally
just be me, and that’s enough.
BYU, Provo, and USGA will always hold
a special place in my heart. USGA was the safe space that allowed me to come
out of my gay shell and stretch my wings a bit. But I am also grateful to have
left, to have stood at the edge of the cliff, and leaped, just to see how far I
can fly. I hope the same for everyone in USGA.
-Nick Norman-
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