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.

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Gay Catholics Blast NJ Bishops: A gay Roman Catholic group has denounced a letter that New Jersey Catholic bishops circulated in opposition to marriage equality.

“Whatever the New Jersey bishops are trying to do around the issue of marriage has nothing to do with justice,” reads a statement from the Rainbow Sash Movement. “One of the most basic concepts that underline all Catholic teaching is that ‘All people are entitled to equality of rights regardless of their situation.’ This fundamental position cannot be dismissed in the name of religious rigidity. To do so is to throw foundational Catholic tradition out the window in the name of intolerance and the narrowness of dogma.”

Late last month New Jersey bishops asked priests to read or distribute a letter asking parishioners to pray that the state legislature would not approve marriage rights for gay couples. The bishops called the possibility of same-sex marriage “one of the most serious challenges” to the traditional definition of marriage. The state senate is expected to vote on a marriage equality bill this week, after which the assembly would consider it.

Oh, him? He's gay.

I am a 21-year-old gay, Catholic, analytical, somewhat musical male. I'm also confused as hell about life right now, but I imagine that will pass someday (maybe not!).

While I'm not a big fan of such attempts to describe people, reductive analysis does tend to reveal certain underlying features (structural details, one might say). Which parts of your you-ness are most important to you?

The unofficial Duke motto is "Work hard, play hard." And it's a fitting one, I think. The fact is, there's simply not enough time in the week to devote yourself to all too many activities. Additionally, there are too many people to know everyone all too well. As a result, this sort of quick reduction is almost a necessary mode of functioning. Who's he? Oh, he's in band. She sings in Chorale. These two write for the Chronicle. She does Vespers. He's in the Pitchforks. (note: these are far from representative :P)

This being the case, it seems that many students fight tooth and nail for even a second identifier. She's in [sorority] and she's premed. Speaking from my perspective, it's definitely a somewhat frightening notion that people will see me as one thing and one thing only.

A lot of people complain about self-segregation at Duke. They're usually talking about racial self-segregation, but it goes way beyond that. People self-segregate by major, religion, sexual orientation, gender, socioeconomic status, social standing, and a whole host of other things. Why is this? I certainly think one reason for it is that we want to spend time with people who understand what it's like to be [adjective]. Simultaneously, I also imagine that if I'm hanging out with people who are also [adjective], I'm going to be seen as more than just that. It's like those little travel games or hidden message things where you put on the red glasses and it lets you see what's under all the red ink--when your primary descriptor is nullified, you're required to look beyond it.

I think perhaps the broader idea is that people are looking for meaningful friendships and they believe that they are likelier to find these in people who have certain things in common with them (the popular idea is, the more you have in common, the better).

I'm not going to refute this quite yet (I'll get to my rant on friendships toward the end of the post). For now, let's talk about being homophobic versus accepting. At our last discussion, some members of the Catholic Student Center asked, "How can we make the community more welcoming?" I answered something like, "Well, you are welcoming. Now you just have to figure out how to let people know that." But, honestly, I was really only talking about those people, right there. Are the Catholics okay with my sexuality? Are the frat guys? Does it really matter?

Sometimes it's pretty uncomfortable hanging out with certain Catholic friends of mine. I have this nagging thought that maybe they're just judging me the whole time. Maybe they're hanging out with me in hopes that they'll show me the light and that I can be saved from fiery death. Similarly, with other friends, well, maybe they're totally fine with it, and maybe the fact that we've never talked about it means that, but maybe it means the opposite. We're all insecure sometimes, and while I think I'm getting better at not feeling like I need to prove myself to people as a gay man in this heteronormative society, sometimes I need to have discussions with people and know that I'm, for what it's worth, approved of (which is ridiculous! I don't need to "prove" myself to people as Catholic, or as being from Montana, or as any of the other things I am). While I could, hypothetically, spend my life hanging out with people who don't approve of me and trying to convince them of my humanity and personhood, that just seems like a huge depressing waste of time. It's really a mental burden to have to spend time with people you know don't approve of things. And to worry about it--does this person know? S/he's Christian--does s/he think I'm going to hell? Great.

I wish I could just say, "Forget it! I don't need your approval." And I'm getting better at doing that (or at either ignoring or attempting to educate the people who don't approve). But it's hard for me and probably always will be.

What's the solution? There's no easy one. Don't reduce. View people as whole people. Don't turn certain adjectives about a person into what you see as his/her identity. Don't put me in a box and I won't put you in one. Okay? Sometimes I'll fail, and sometimes you'll fail, but we'll keep trying. This is oversimplified, I know, but it's one place from which to start thinking about it.

Lastly, my quick rant on Duke friendships: People. Being friends is more than having something in common or about being in the same place at the same time. Friendship is a mutual commitment to spend time with each other. If you want to form lasting friendships you can maintain when you get out of here, you need to be regularly doing things to maintain these relationships. Schedule a meal or a discussion or going to the fair. If you plan to just let it happen, then as soon as you're apart, that friendship's gone because you have effectively zero practice maintaining it. Yes, here at Duke, we can find friends who have enough in common with us that we'll just keep running into them. That's all well and good. But the very few true friends I've found here are people who I go out of my way to schedule time with and who will do the same for me. It doesn't matter how far I've looked, what uniting quality I've tried to find people with--mutual commitment is the most important thing for me to have in common with a friend.

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Catholic Church Threatens To Stop D.C. Services For Needy If Gay Marriage Passes: The Catholic Archdiocese of Washington said Wednesday that it will be unable to continue the social service programs it runs for the District if the city doesn't change a proposed same-sex marriage law, a threat that could affect tens of thousands of people the church helps with adoption, homelessness and health care.

Coming Out Story #1

[Ed. Note: Every Wednesday, we collect a coming out story and post it here, anonymously. They can be long or short, devastating or hilarious or boring or somewhere in between. The stories can be gathered in person or digitally - even using our "submit anonymously" link on the sidebar! If you'd like to send one in, email us at bluedevilsunited@gmail.com. If you don't feel like writing, we can meet in person, too, (ignore this PSA) and I'll transcribe your story here. Just let us know.]

I was 13 or so, I think, when I first realized I was to be gay. Let's call it the first revelation. I wasn't sure what it meant at the time, but I knew it bothered me greatly. I cried and prayed and tried to figure out what being gay meant, particularly as a Catholic. I was sure I had screwed something up to end up this way. I was certain, too, that it was reversible--that I could simply figure out what I had done wrong and somehow undo it.

I spent the next six years attempting to reprogram my sexuality. In retrospect, I'm really just glad I didn't have access or knowledge sufficient to truly screw myself up too badly. I'm not easily discouraged, though, and I kept trying until just after my freshman year here at Duke. After an emotional discussion with my ex-girlfriend, I came out to her.

The second revelation was harder-earned than the first. I think all those years of active denial were necessary to get there, as well as my 12 sleepless hours of thought, prayer, and reflection.

You always hear about how people talk to God. And I'm a reasonably faithful person, or at least I try to be. I had just never personally believed that God actually communicated with people (did they hear some sort of boomy voice in their heads? What was this all about?). I've tried to rationalize away what happened, but the quote I was given, or that I heard, or whatever happened, just didn't seem to be anywhere else. Its wording (and its meaning, at the time) was clear. "I have made you exactly as you are, and I have made you completely beautiful."

Love is one of the hardest things for me to accept--whether from God, from others, or even from myself. It's just uncomfortable to know that someone could love those parts of you that you've spent your whole life trying to change. I don't want people to love the dark, ugly, uncomfortable, and sinful within me. I want them to want me to change it. Some days, anyhow.

It's only been two years or so since then, though I can scarcely believe it myself. Lots of things have changed. Lots of things haven't. I've accepted some of those words given to me. I readily identify as gay. I'm reasonably comfortable talking about it to family, friends, people whose names I still can't remember, and even strangers. Love, though? I still can't accept that.

I've stopped counting the revelations. It's kind of an overly dramatic way to think about knowledge, anyhow, I think. I have to admit, though, I'm not entirely comfortable with everything. I think sometimes I still want to find better arguments against homosexuality within the Church because, somehow, then, if it were okay for the Church to hate me, it would be fine for me to hate myself.

I guess I'm saying that oppression doesn't just come from society. It can come from so many places--from news media, family, religion, or the worst place: from within. Personally, I have enough trouble not despising certain things about myself that I just don't have time to hear hateful or discriminatory things elsewhere. So I don't. Maybe that's why I feel like I've never been discriminated against--if I hate myself first, maybe others won't. Maybe I just won't notice it when and/or if they do.

That sounds pretty bleak, though. Life is good. I'm generally happy and I don't get self-hating all too often. I have amazing friends and a supportive family and community, even if the family isn't entirely comfortable talking about it. Coming out is, as they say, a continuous process, and not everyone is comfortable with it. Oh well, I guess. Why should I have to justify or argue about the way I am with people? I'm gay. I didn't have a choice in the matter. That's that, and this is me.