homosexuality Archives

Sex, Guilt, and Suicide

October 29, 2017

CW: This essay discusses suicide. If you or someone you know needs immediate help, please call 911. You can also call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at: 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting CONNECT to 74174. The world need you.

By Donna Baier Stein

The first boy I fell in love with in college hung himself from a tree north of San Francisco, a short distance off the Pacific Coast Highway U.S. 101. I don’t know exactly how far up the highway from the Golden Gate Bridge or exactly what kind of tree. I do know at least one of the secrets that led him to take his life and how damaging long-lasting guilt can be.

Decades later, I decided to write a story in which he—let’s call him Don R.—was a character. I had to research “suicide by hanging.” The gruesome physical details I read made me regret confronting the painful memory. I realized that because I hadn’t seen Don’s body, part of the terrible impact of his act had bypassed me. But I also realized, after he appeared in a second story and a third, how much and for how long, his choice to end his life affected me.

When Don took his life, I—and his other friends and family—were halfway across the country in the Midwest. I was in Lawrence, Kansas—a listless undergrad who had returned, to my own and my parents’ dismay, from a semester at Bryn Mawr. I felt like a failure. My academic drive faltered, my mood plummeted. I found myself looking for any reason to affirm that life was really, really painful.

My first sight of Don R.’s high-voltage grin jolted me. His blue eyes sparkled, and he bounced as he walked around the K.U. campus—sometimes affectionately called “the Athens of the Midwest”—in his white leather Adidas Pro sneakers. We met through mutual friends, and when he asked if I’d like to go see Easy Rider with him, I grinned back an enthusiastic Yes. Continue Reading…

Guest Posts, Sexuality

Jesus Loves You!

September 17, 2017

By Michelle Cruz Hine

Jesus loves YOU! She repeated. There I was, in the bathroom with no way out. I know, I said. All I could think of was the exit door. Afterwards, even the word afterwards, like that happening, the violation of someone spewing their uncomfortableness with you. Her thoughts echoed through my head: She just needs Jesus. Jesus will save her. I wish I had thought of something else to say; I am Buddhist, or I’m Jewish, or something like – the truth…

I wish we could play this whole scene over again, one in which I am not just saying yes to escape. One in which I am calm, cool, and collected. I would’ve looked right at her sweet brown concerned eyes and said, is it because I am a lesbian that you feel the need to ask me about your Jesus? That was what it was. That was the unspoken truth in that bathroom, coming out of her mouth, and hiding beneath Jesus. Why is it always Jesus?

To be fair, her intentions were not to hurt me. She really does want me to find her god, and then I will be okay. This is not okay. I’m tired of people hiding their prejudices and homophobias behind their religion. What she really wants to say to me, and is saying to me, through her scapegoat is: What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? Don’t you know there is another life out there for you; one where you can be loved by god, accept his love and you will be normal. What is wrong with you? You are living in sin and this is not right. You are not right. You are not right. Can’t you see Jesus Died for you, he loves you.

There are always homophobic micro aggression behaviors surrounding me, ALWAYS. But sometimes little things just come at your mind a bit more and stay with you. Literally, the night before I ended up in the bathroom with this lady, I saw a gay couple in an Ikea advertisement. My wife and I had gone over to my mom’s house. I picked up her O magazine, opened it, and there it was. Instantly, I felt joy. A smile ran across my face. I was so happy. I shouted, look – there are two men in this advertisement! And they are an interracial couple! (My wife and I are an interracial couple, I am white and she is Latina) I had never seen a gay couple in a magazine advertisement before. I started to think how great it would be to see at least one gay advertisement in every magazine. I am slowly noticing more changes in advertisements, but for the most part, it seems pretty stagnant.

When marriage equality was happening you would hear the far left, in the gay community and outside of it, saying, we don’t want marriage, marriage does nothing for us, down with the marriage institution, forgetting the benefits and protections that come from being legally married. You could hear some tones of, they are just trying to normalize being gay, or making it a trend. Are you kidding me? These words still ring through my blood. Do you have any idea how great it would be to be normal, to not hear that Jesus will save me as an adult. This is the problem. The LGBTQI community will never be normal. We just won’t. I would love it if we were! There would be no more slurs of that’s so gay, or worse = name calling, bullying, and murder. Suicide rates would go down, and homelessness within our community, especially among the youth, would be almost nonexistent.

My marriage does not save me from anything, but it does allow me certain safeguards, and it does let kids and teenagers know that they can dream about their wedding, if that is what they want, they can have kids, that one day their life will get better. That they are not perverts, that they are loved, that they are normal.

I wish I could go back into that bathroom and respond to her let’s have a private conversational question with a pre written note-

Dear Anonymous,

If you are concerned about my wellbeing and my love for Jesus, then I will please have to ask to you to keep those thoughts to yourself. My religious views are not the same as yours and need to be respected the way that I respect yours. If there comes a time when you would like to be honest with yourself about your real problem with me, then perhaps we could discuss that, or not, depending on how I feel.

Sincerely,
Your Lesbian Colleague who loves herself.

Michelle Cruz Hine is a comical full time lesbian, who lives with her wife, two cats, and a small 5lb. Chihuahua named Bootz Noche. She is also an ESL teacher, teaching grades 5th through high school, and dabbles in adult education. In her spare time, Michelle enjoys writing personal essays, journaling, and volunteering with LGBTQ youth.

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Guest Posts

There Is No Normal.

September 30, 2015

By Millie Mestrill

There are things in the past that hold us with shame. These things embrace us deeply and after much time we reflect and cannot believe our actions. We go on an endless array of questions, “Why did I react like that? Why was I so hard on this person? What triggered that situation? Why was I so insensitive?” The questions spew out like a machine gun with self-destruction and embarrassment. We move forward, but sometimes when witnessing the wrong we once did ourselves, the guilt arrives with full force. It’s then that we are reminded to really let go of the past.

A week after my four year old son arrived from Romania, I noticed something in him. I already had two sons I raised alone, and they were typical boys: they played outside, played ball, rough housed, grinding in skateboards, and spent countless hours on video games. But, this sweet soul with a strong Eastern European dialect just wanted to fold clothes, clean house, wear his sister’s skirts, play with her Barbie dolls, and wanted nothing to do with boy stuff. The more I insisted, he act like his brothers the worst the temper tantrums became.

I come from a strong Hispanic community. I never had gay friends (none that came out during the 80’s). To make matters worse my ex would come down on me for being too easy on him. “You are turning that boy into a homosexual.” I would grind my teeth, shamefully not knowing what to do with this sweet soul who was trying to find his way into our lives. His difference became the elephant in the room. The harder I tried to force him to be like his brothers the worst he reacted. These are the things that now, many years later, I am embarrassed and ashamed for even entertaining. Standing on this side of the timeline, I don’t even recognize that woman. I was a total asshole without any excuse for my stupidity. Today, I am a huge supporter of homosexuality, transgender and humanity for that matter. I have friends from all walks of life. They say ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is a stupid and it’s our human right to educate ourselves in those things that are not part of our inner circle.

Guest Posts, LBGQ, storytelling

The Fight

January 22, 2015

By Devi Lockwood.

She delivers the punch, smooth and crisp, to the flesh below his jaw. Her knuckles collide with his cheekbone and the crowd gathered under the university pavilion looks on, silent.

He comes at her with both fists flailing, windmills of rage. With one duck and swerve, she comes out unscathed.

Before either party can deliver a return punch, their friends intervene, pulling them back. Each struggles at their friend’s grip, squinting in wrath.

“Stop! Enough! Not like this!”

The girl they are fighting over sits on a bench with her head between her hands, covering her ears.

I wasn’t expecting to see lesbian drama in my first week in Fiji (or at all, for that matter), but there it was, like the ocean, waiting––unconcerned with my existence and yet completely immersive. A pull.

I made friends at the university by accident. Walking down Grantham Rd, I was tugged into a several-block long conversation with a group of two guys walking to class.

“Do you want to see campus?” one asked, readjusting the weight of his backpack on his shoulder. I shrugged. Why not? I had nowhere else better to be. The only thing driving me through the day was my desire to collect stories.

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