While the years may have flown by, standing at the precipice of my thirties, I find myself revisiting my twenties. A period once shrouded in suffocating darkness, leaving me disoriented and lost. It felt like being submerged in the depths of a despairing sea, unable to breathe or call out, fearing a silent goodbye, mirroring the fate of the silenced unheard.
Though I’ve achieved self-acceptance, the past remains etched in my memory, a stark reminder lurking in the shadows. Even in dreams, these lingering memories resurface, testaments to the vulnerabilities I once held. Growth, like a butterfly’s metamorphosis, signifies progress, but the discarded shell, like the cicada’s husk, serves as a permanent reminder of its former state. I choose to confront the past, embracing its daunting challenges and the pain they inflicted. The burdens that once threatened to cripple me now fuel my resilience.
It’s true that societal constructs may associate certain experiences with being “gay,” such as a single-parent household, a lack of a father figure, or a perceived “feminine” personality. However, while I acknowledge the impact these experiences have had on shaping who I am, attributing these labels as defining characteristics of being “gay” is oversimplifying the multifaceted nature of individual identities.
Growing up in a remote and isolated rural environment, coupled with the stigma attached to my divorced family, exposed me to the scrutiny of both adults and children. This lack of a supportive and accepting environment fostered an inability to express myself, leading to introversion and a crippling fear of communication.
Undoubtedly, my childhood lacked the consistent love and support of a readily available father and an absent mother, leaving a void that even the love of my grandparents couldn’t fully fill. This experience, amongst others, has undeniably shaped me, but it’s important to remember that it is only one facet of a multifaceted individual.
As I grew in that secluded mountain village, I experienced physical and mental changes, yet our conservative teachers offered no corresponding knowledge. It was only with the dawning of sexual awareness that I realized how I differed from my peers. I found myself drawn to boys, and their presence felt like a burst of sunshine in my otherwise gloomy world.
Confusion and fear battled within me. It wasn’t until the summer of my 12th year, browsing my cousin’s computer, that I stumbled upon the word “homosexuality” and finally confirmed my sexual orientation. However, my understanding remained incomplete.
Entering junior high, puberty triggered a rapid growth spurt. My newfound height earned me the “big boy” label from elders, triggering the traditional pressure of “marriage-mindedness”. Yet, I knew I could never fulfill their expectations. I couldn’t love girls, and the love I desired felt both forbidden and potentially shameful for myself and my family. My own parents’ failed relationship further instilled a fear of marriage, leaving me feeling trapped.
Adolescence felt like being a lost animal in a dense forest. No one offered guidance, no helpful books existed. Popular science materials tiptoed around puberty and homosexuality entirely. Biology textbooks coldly presented a biased view, linking homosexuality to AIDS, leaving me with the terrifying idea that any same-sex encounter would lead to an incurable and stigmatized death. My survival instinct screamed that I couldn’t be gay, even if it meant forcing myself to fall in love with a girl later.
This distorted understanding persisted until high school, when I encountered a chapter on homosexuality in Chai Jing’s “Seeing”. That’s when I realized I wasn’t alone, and a sense of community bloomed. Yet, doubts lingered: is it a disease? Are relationships with the same sex a guaranteed path to AIDS? How could I truly accept being gay?
Driven by these questions, I delved into online resources and purchased books like “Survey Report on the Survival of Gay Wives in China,” “Gay Subculture,” and “My Gay Children.” These works, along with figures like Li Yinhe, Zhang Beichuan, Fang Gang, and the Gay Friends and Family Association, offered knowledge and a glimmer of hope.
Reaching out to Dr. Li Yinhe, I received invaluable advice: due to China’s nascent sex education, independent learning through books and the internet was crucial. She encouraged self-acceptance, acknowledging that while different, homosexuality is neither sinful nor wrong. With self-care, happiness was achievable like any heterosexual life.
Her words ignited a sense of acceptance within me, fueled by the knowledge I gained. However, a final hurdle persisted – feelings of inferiority and longing to be like other boys, to have a typical marriage and family life. These feelings nudged me towards the LGBTQ+ community, seeking acceptance and belonging.
High school was a period of stark contrasts, a tapestry woven with both light and darkness. While I found solace and acceptance in a group of friends, the experience was marred by the scars of relentless bullying.
The treatment I endured in the dormitory remains an unutterably painful memory. My nonconformity to traditional notions of masculinity, as perceived by my peers, exposed me to a relentless tide of maliciousness. Not only did I have to endure the violation of having my belongings stolen, but I was also subjected to humiliating public humiliation.
The daily torment stretched into an agonizing eternity, stealing the joy and vibrancy that should have characterized those years. My yearning for a peaceful existence became my sole prayer. The trauma continues to resonate, a lingering echo of the pain triggered by the mere recollection of those events.
High school manifested as a personal hell, painting the world in the darkest possible light. The persistent, humiliating bullying inflicted an unbearable pain and despair, leaving me utterly isolated. My parents were oblivious, my teachers remained indifferent, and even my friends felt helpless. This further intensified the misery I was grappling with.
Self-esteem, already eroded, had dwindled to a point where I harbored suicidal thoughts. However, amidst the darkness, a flicker of resistance remained. I persisted, and through sheer self-reliance, I embraced my true self. This arduous journey saw me rise from the abyss and reclaim my life from the precipice of despair.
Thankfully, college ushered in a brighter chapter. My roommates proved to be a beacon of light, offering unwavering support and understanding in the face of my timidity and struggles. Their unwavering acceptance was akin to a constellation of stars illuminating my previously darkened sky.
When I finally decided to “come out,” they displayed remarkable composure. It was as if everything unfolded naturally, devoid of any judgment or pressure. With gentle assurance, they confessed, “We’ve known for a while, but we simply wanted to avoid adding to any potential burdens. You’re perfectly fine just the way you are.”
Their words were a balm to my soul, a testament to the transformative power of genuine acceptance and belonging.
Having faced bullying in my own past, I’m committed to creating a safe school environment with zero tolerance for such behavior. My primary focus is to educate and guide young minds towards understanding boundaries and fostering kindness. Simultaneously, I actively strive to identify and support students who might be struggling with bullying, ensuring their well-being.
As educators, we have a crucial role to play. Let’s become more observant and proactive in identifying potential bullying situations. By being present and responsive to subtle cries for help, we can collectively create a nurturing school environment where every child can thrive freely and healthily.
Today, I am surrounded by a supportive network of family and friends, and I am proud of the person I have become. While I acknowledge limitations, my determination to make a positive impact remains unwavering. I will continue to strive toward my goals and inspire others with my journey.
This is my pride and greatness.
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