The Gay Confessional

My first confession: I’m really excited to be a part of this LGBT community here at Duke! For those of you who don’t know, I identify as a queer woman, but I only just started going to the Center at the end of last fall semester hoping to find something that affirmed that what I felt for women wasn’t unique. And I was pleasantly surprised! Not only did I find a group of Duke students that I found to be friendly, energetic, and genuine, I finally had a medium to admit (to myself) and to my peers who I am.

My second confession: I’m not really out. Because while I’ve been able to tell most of my closest friends that I’m gay, by no means have I had the time to tell all of them. What stops me? Couldn’t I just tell them all tomorrow and be done with it? Something stops me. Is it their repetitive usage of “no homo lol” after they hugged me on the Quad? Is it the sorority bag that they carry on their way into our mutual classes? Is it their Christianity, or in the case of many of my friends, their Catholicism?

Or maybe it’s just me. My experience would tell me that this last reason is most accurate. Just a few weeks ago I came out to one of my closest Catholic friends. This woman is my role model-she attends daily Mass like it’s class, she prays the rosary more times in a week than I take a shower (I shower daily for anyone who just doubted my cleanliness) and she just all-around embodies someone who has dedicated her life to Catholicism.

So it happened over lunch. Somehow the conversation quickly turned to, “Why don’t you date [insert boy’s name here]? You two are so perfect for each other!” As I sat there with my mouth ajar, she continued: “No Megan, seriously! I need to know the reason why! Because I can’t understand why you two wouldn’t be dating.”

The golden window of opportunity had just opened. I sit there, stunned. Did this just happen? These kinds of moments in your life don’t happen very often. I close my eyes and frantically try to race the pros and cons in my head: “Is this the right moment? She’s one of my closest friends.” I know I’ll kick myself later if I mess this up. I look around the Refectory tables and I get a gut instinct: “just do it," something inside of me says.

All of this time, I can’t help thinking-“but she’s Catholic, she’s really Catholic.” [Disclaimer: For those of you who don’t know the Catholic Church’s position on LGBT issues, the Church holds that gay people should be embraced and accepted in the church as fellow Catholics, but it condemns gay sexual acts.]

Anyway… So I just decide to go for it and tell her: “Well… I don’t want to date him because…I’m gay”. Before I have the opportunity to keep talking, she smiles and says, “that’s okay!!! That’s totally fine!” I feel like a baseball just hit me out of left field. Wait, I ask myself, does that mean she’s okay with it? And not just okay with it, but she’s smiling, and she’s glad I told her?!

That’s when I learned what I should have learned when I was a little girl. Those who care about you will always care about you. Those who matter don’t mind. She mattered. And so, she didn’t mind.

For all the “what-if-they-don’t-like-me-as-much-because-now-they-know-I’m-gay” worries that I had floating around in my head, I’m only recently starting to realize that I don’t need to anticipate that negativity. This Friday I came out to another one of my close friends over lunch, and she gave me wise advice. She said, “I find that there are perfect people in the world, and then there are people with problems. Honestly, I find that everyone always likes the people with problems better than the perfect people.” That made me smile. =) Now, being gay is by no means a problem-it’s a beautiful part of human sexuality. But her gist holds true universally-that people tend to like real, honest people better. And it has been my experience that with each new person I come out to, not only have I grown much closer to them, but I finally am able to anticipate positive reactions, because that’s all I’ve gotten. Coming out this past month has made me much more confident, stronger and oh-so-much wiser.

As I left lunch with that friend, she sent me a text that I think hits this point home: “I think it’s funny that I was sitting there worried you’d judge me for living with my boyfriend next year and you were worried I’d judge you for being gay. I anticipate we will face similar irony each time we tell someone new! I’m proud of you Megan!”

So, does that mean starting to come out has been easy? Absolutely not. There are going to be ignorant people wherever I go. But what I want you to know, (yes you reading this blog), is that despite the initial difficulties in coming out that I’ve experienced internally, all of them combined together do not even BEGIN to outweigh the amazing benefits that I’ve received since coming out. I know that my experience will not be like everyone’s, but the feeling of liberation, the thought of maybe finally being able to date someone who I’m crazy about (oh my gosh?!!! :), and the knowledge that I am finally being honest with people, has all just felt amazing.

I’ve learned two great things from coming out. If this starts sounding preachy, I profusely apologize. (I thought they were worth mentioning!)

First, I’m seeing that friends love you. They don’t just like you. Like implies that it could stop. I could like vanilla today, but I might like chocolate better tomorrow. My likes waver and change.

But my loves don’t. There’s something about a love that never dies inside of you-it is that trick birthday candle that you just can’t put out. I have been given this unique and blessed opportunity to see that my friends love me, for me. Not for the person that they thought I was, or for the person that they wanted me to become, but for me. Their love doesn’t change, and it doesn’t waver, no matter if that’s a “straight” Megan or a gay Megan. And that opportunity, to see that kind of loyalty, love and friendship has been really self-affirming.

The other equally greatest part of starting to come out has been coming to the Center (like I mentioned above!). It’s a whole community of people, gay and straight, who think just like you, and who affirm that you are okay just the way you are, right now. So that’s why I’d like to encourage you to come by the Center too! I was just talking to someone earlier today who told me, “oh, I know a lot of queer people, they just don’t come to the Center. Well, I really hope we can change that. If you don’t want to go to the Center by yourself, please find me on Facebook and 1) friend me (Megan Weinand), and 2) shoot me a message that says, “Hey, come to Fab Friday with me?” or even better, “Please come to BDU meetings with me." Trust me, I won’t think you’re weird. The only thing I’ll be is just so thrilled that you’re coming. =)

So these are the greatest things about coming out. But you know what? I’m only just starting. It’d be a lot cooler if you’d do it too. Come out with me.

Anonymous Posts(4.5.10-4.11.10)

Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks or hate speech. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions :)

You guys!

This week we had a blog meeting, and tons of people came! It was pretty much The Most Fun and We've got lots in store for the rest of the semester.

Also! I have to plug the production of RENT here at Duke because I am responsible for keeping you up to date with Duke LGBT news. And this is Duke LGBT news because duh. The production is nothing short of amazing, and we were all blown away. I'm going again next weekend, come with me!

Anyhow. We got one anonymous post this week!

#1
I have the most traditional values. I am a Black female who has been straight all her lives with straight friends and straight boyfriends. I have memories of experiences with 2 girls from my childhood. I am so attracted to other women that even talking about 2 girls kissing gets me so aroused.. it's not the same when I discuss heterosexual couples. Nobody I'm friends with would ever think I was anything but straight. But the truth is, I'm questioning. I don't know if I want a relationship with another woman, or how I'd handle it, but God knows that I really want to FUCK another woman. I put up an ad on Craigslist for someone like me... and I can't wait till I find her... so I can experience bliss: my dream of having sex with another woman using a strap-on.

[Ed. Note: Oh, hey, #1. I think all I can offer is to be careful on Craigslist. It can be kind of sketch. But so long as you stay safe, by all means you do you.]

My Coming Out Story

I came out so long ago that it feels like ancient history. Or Texas history. I came out in 7th grade, the one year I had to take Texas History. My coming out is kind of like the Battle of the Alamo: though I initially lost I ended the war a winner. I knew I was non-straight when I saw the Rocky Horror Picture show live the summer before the start of 7th grade. I had previously been attracted to women but had thought everyone else felt the way I did; they just didn’t talk about it. After going home I talked to my friend Blake on AIM who was in the same theatre program as me and openly gay. We talked about the show. I casually mentioned that the character Columbia was “hot.” He asked me if I was gay. I told him I had never considered it. After our night-long conversation I was convinced that I was different from the other girls and the word “bisexual” applied to me. My friend Catherine started talking to Blake. He accidentally told her of my sexual revelation.

I didn’t know this had happened until the first day of 7th grade when Catherine and her friends interrogated me about my “bisexuality.” Lacking any sense of self-preservation and with the knowledge that the damage had already been done, I told Catherine I didn’t care about whom she shared this knowledge with. One day I had a group of nerdy, conventional friends. Another day they all avoided me. The words fag, dyke, bitch, slut and whore followed me from advisory to the long bus ride home. I had been diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder in elementary school. This wave of hostility brought out the worst depression of my life.

I came out to my parents around the same time. I had come home from school crying. My dad went to my room and asked me question after question. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and then asked if I had a girlfriend. When I answered yes, he told me I was too young to know and left the room. I tried in vain for months to convince my parents that I wasn’t too young to know. My dad, concerned about my safety, forbid me from telling anyone about my sexuality. Unfortunately, the damage was already done.

My new friends were potheads and punks, though I was too emotionally detached to be more than their mute accomplice during school. I had been a tomboy from a young age but slowly morphed into a feminine creature. At first I was grotesque. I wore too much make-up and thrift store clothes. Now I am completely comfortable with my identity as a femme. In 7th grade I managed to still make excellent grades. I was isolated but not without hope. By 8th grade I was barely passing my classes. The “girlfriends” I had in middle school only wanted sex from me or told the most vicious bullies about my sexuality. Everyday I faked sick or begged my mom not to take me to school. I was convinced that I couldn’t stay in school and had no future. The summer between 7th and 8th grade I only ate cheerios and nearly fainted in the shower.

Though I constantly felt like I wanted to die, I didn’t have a plan for how to commit suicide. I faint at the sight of blood, had no idea how to get a gun (I hope no one’s surprised that my Texas house was sans gun) and didn’t have pills readily available. I spent most of my time listening to avant-jazz and making crude drawings. When my parents and I met with the school counselor I spent the whole time hysterically crying and yelling at her. I was convinced that all the other kids in school were stupid. Though I don’t like to draw now, I became quite good at anatomical drawings. This one picture particularly impressed me and I was fond of copying it:


My privilege saved me from suicide. My parents had enough money to send me to therapy and put me on anti-depressants and cared enough to let me leave therapists who I felt weren’t supportive. The transfer to private Catholic school saved me academically and wouldn’t have been possible without my parent’s economic status. Though I was marked as the “weird lesbian girl” at my Catholic high school and wasn’t socially active, I did well enough to get into Duke. I am privileged that my family now treats my sexuality as a non-issue. As a result I can completely commit to being out to everyone I meet at Duke and can act as a witness to all facets of Duke’s social climate. I am not afraid of how people will react to my sexuality because I’ve heard it all. I still don’t know what it’s like to live somewhere where race and sexuality are not hot-button topics. While I intend to have this experience soon I am also grateful for the perspective I gained from being out at a young age in San Antonio, Texas.

This is part of a poem I wrote from my “dark period.” I sometimes chant the stanza to myself when I’m feeling down:

If god hates fags
You think that I would burn and die
My outside rubbing with my inside
Like they teach you to rub two sticks together