I looked back at my computer screen, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the light.
A tweet caught my eye.
“Chely Wright, the first openly gay country singer, is here today. Her story is truly unbelievable, and very touching.”
I frowned. The words “openly gay” made my palms sweaty. My heart began to beat a little faster. Should I click on the link? A familiar, nervous sensation ran up my spine. I sat back in my chair, eyes watering.
I needed to watch the video. I needed to see what this Chely Wright lady had to say. So what was stopping me? What was I scared of?
I swallowed, then nervously checked behind me before clicking on the link, plugging my headphones in hastily, turning the volume down to the quietest it would go. I waited with bated breath as the interview loaded, scrolling through the comments section.
“What a brave, inspiring young woman,” one person had written. “I hope this is a comfort to anyone watching.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat as I clicked play.
It was a clip from The Ellen DeGeneres Show. I’d heard of Ellen DeGeneres from some of Emily’s gossip magazines, but I didn’t know much about her. Chely Wright appeared to be a special guest of some sort. She looked incredibly nervous as she sat down opposite Ellen.
“Hey, Chely, welcome to the show!” Ellen said, grinning. I paused the video and looked over my shoulder, double checking that no one had come into the room. I pressed play.
“Chely, I’m one of those people who can completely understand how you’ve felt in the past and how you must feel right now, but I’m really proud of you. That was a really brave thing to do.”
The audience erupted into applause.
“Thank you very much, Ellen,” said Chely. “I must say, I’m freaking out right now that I’m on the show – I’m a big fan of yours and you’ve inspired me in so many ways.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.
“You know … I had recommitted myself, time and time again, to never telling anyone in my family or any of my fans that I was gay.”
She paused.
“That I am gay.”
The audience erupted again.
She went on to describe her coming out process – how she had wanted desperately to tell her own father, and how, eventually, she did.
“The day I told him that I was gay, I was playing a show that evening. And later that night, he came up on stage, addressed the crowd, and said, ‘I’m so glad you guys came out to see my daughter – I’m really, really proud of her.’”
I stared at the screen, mouth open, eyes wide. I was overwhelmed by Chely’s honesty and compassion. She was speaking, I felt, directly to me.
“I searched my entire town for anybody who was like me – and I couldn’t find anyone,” Chely explained. “But I know that right now, there is a girl sitting in her bedroom in some little town somewhere, and she’s feeling like an alien.”
I blinked frantically as tears began to fill my eyes.
“I felt that it was wrong of me, really, to let people assume for one more minute that I am not gay.”
The audience burst into applause once again, shouting and whooping. I was sobbing by now, but I found myself smiling through my tears. I wanted to clap, too. I wanted more than just to clap. I wanted to shout and cheer and scream at the top of my lungs, and jump up and down in celebration of this woman who had been so compellingly well-received and understood.
“At the end of the day,” said Ellen tentatively, looking directly at Chely, “the thing that everyone asks for is to just be loved unconditionally.”
Tears were streaming down my cheeks. The interview finished, but my mind was reeling from what I’d just seen. I could hear nothing but my own ragged breath. The sound of my heartbeat was ringing in my ears and my head was pounding.
I had been grappling with this, inwardly, for seventeen years. Every second of every day I had been fighting, with all my might, against the thoughts in my head that would question, repeatedly, the validity of my sexuality, what I might be, what I could be – and it was slowly destroying me. I had used the future as a form of escape from the present, telling myself over and over that one day, things would change.
And that day, finally, was today. My eyes watered. I took a deep breath.
“I’m gay,” I whispered into the dusk.
Silence. I held my breath, expecting my thoughts to come crashing down on me like an army, ready to stamp out the words the split second they had left my mouth. I waited for something to happen, some twisted, soul-destroying, earth-shattering chain reaction.
Instead, there was nothing. My thoughts were clear and my pulse was steady. I sat completely still as an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and peace washed over me like a tide.
My brain remained quiet. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t fight the silence – I accepted it. Slowly but surely, the weight of seventeen years’ worth of shame and toxic self-loathing floated away on the warm evening breeze.
All at once, I could breathe again.
I was on cloud nine. The sun seemed brighter, the sky looked bluer, and the air felt warmer. Exams were over, and a long hot summer of freedom stretched out in front of me. My friends and I hung out every day, sitting in Ben’s back garden drinking cider, strolling down the country lanes, playing cards in our local pub without a care in the world.
One evening, having spent the day lounging around in the sun eating ice cream with my friends, I headed home in high spirits, a little sunburnt but decidedly happy. I collapsed into bed and tried my best to sleep, tossing and turning for hours before finally getting up, exasperated. It was too hot. I pulled back the curtains and opened both windows, peering up into the night sky.
I turned and reached for my phone. I opened up Tumblr and began to scroll through it, feeling dazed. Another gust of wind crept in through the window, brushing against my face, making my eyes water. It woke me up a bit. I blinked instinctively, and realized I was still standing by my window, phone in hand.
I crawled back into bed and continued scrolling until a post suddenly caught my eye. It was from a girl named Kaelyn, whose blog I’d been following for a while.
“I’m thinking of coming out to my parents soon. A few of my friends know. I’m 22 and getting ready to leave the country for the next four years for veterinary school. I think I should come out to them before I leave. But I’m terrified.”
I was stunned. I’d loved her blog for ages, but I’d had no idea she was gay. I’d never seen her mention it before. As my tiredness ebbed away and I re-read her post, I found myself smiling. Wow. This girl had been going through the exact same thing as me and I hadn’t even known it. I stared at the screen, mulling it all over. It was such a comfort to know that no matter how isolated I was, or how alone I felt, I was never, truly going to be by myself. Sure, she was halfway across the world on a different continent, but here we were, going about our daily lives, experiencing the exact same feelings, thoughts and worries.
I frowned, staring at the screen, wondering if I should say something. She’d listed her email address in her ‘about’ section. Should I message her, just to wish her luck? Maybe tell her that I was in a similar situation? It had slowly been dawning on me that now I had accepted that I was gay, I was going to have to tell someone soon. I didn’t know this girl, but we were in the same boat. What was the worst that could happen?
I decided I had nothing to lose, opened up my laptop, and began drafting out an email.
“Hello,
I’m 17 & I live in a tiny little village in the United Kingdom.
I came across your Tumblr through a friend, and I immediately followed you because you post such cool things! I love all the Taylor Swift stuff you post, she is ah-mazing.
But just now I saw that you had made a post stating that you were ready to come out. As I was reading it, I could almost tell that you’ve been feeling what I’ve been feeling for the past 17 years. It was a pain that
I recognized – from so many years of hiding, crushing it, wanting it to go away with all the strength you can muster. Countless nights praying and wishing and hoping against hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this whole ‘thing’ is just a phase that you’ll grow out of, something that’ll pass and that you’ll be able to look back on and think, ‘thank God that’s over.’
But you know what? I know that won’t happen. I know what I am, I am what I am. I accept it. And it’s suddenly dawned on me that I’m not alone with this.
Living in such a tiny, unknown place is hard at the best of times, but when you feel so singled out and different from the others – alien, even – it feels like the whole world is against you.
But I found you – or maybe you found me? – and because of this, because of you, I’m stronger and more determined than ever.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Best wishes for the future. x”
I re-read the email at least a dozen times. My eyes were starting to get heavy again. I held my breath, swallowed, then hit send.
I shut my laptop, lay down and closed my eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder what this girl was doing right now. All I knew was that she lived in America – I had no idea where – but that meant there’d be a time difference. She was probably awake right now. Maybe she was even checking her email? I found myself desperately hoping she’d reply. It would be amazing to have a friend I could talk to about all this, I thought, as I finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I awoke bright and early. I grabbed my laptop, and opened up my email.
Inbox (1).
Heart pounding, I clicked the icon.
“Hey.
That was the sweetest email I’ve ever read. I applaud you for knowing who you are at seventeen … it took me 22 years to face the facts.
I went to a Catholic school until university and my roommates all through college were very religious. I felt like I was always sinning, like I was lesser than they were. I dated guys until I was 19 years old, trying so hard to find that one guy that I could marry. I never knew why I felt sick to my stomach all the time, or why I had this little piece of hatred for myself.
I actually completely shut myself off from the world. I pretended that I was focusing on school and didn’t have time for friends. But in reality, I didn’t want to form any new relationships in fear that I would fall in love with a girl or not fall in love with a boy. I was very pro-gay rights but never associated myself directly with those beliefs. I always kept quiet, especially with the events going on here in America – gay marriage debates, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ even gay people aren’t allowed to give blood here because the blood is ‘tainted.’ I never meant to face who I was at this time. But in a funny way, I began watching The L Word. And it made me realize that being gay isn’t WHO I am, it’s a part of who I am.
I am so much more than gay. By staying in the closet, I was just enabling the discrimination in this country. The more people that come out, the easier it will be for the next person. I understand what you’re going through and even though I haven’t come out to my parents directly, it seems like an easier task than it did before. Gay isn’t the only thing that defines me.
Take your time. Don’t stress about the fears you have for yourself. You’re so much more than just your sexuality. I’m a sister, a daughter, a dog owner, a cook, an athlete, a movie buff, and a massive Taylor Swift fan. And I’m going to be a veterinarian. Gay just happens to be part of that.
Coming out and acceptance of yourself comes in phases, the first is denial, then it’s hatred for the way you are, and then it’s appreciation. Recently, I realized that I feel blessed that I am gay and it will happen to you in time.
I feel like we’re both at the same place in our life right now so we can be here for each other.
Thank you for your email. I hope more people in the world are like you.
Kaelyn x”
By the time I’d finished reading the email, I had tears in my eyes. She sounded exactly like me. A movie buff, a Taylor Swift fan … she’d even watched The L Word. Her words were such a comfort. I felt warm and safe, knowing that she was out there somewhere. What she had written was so sweet, and so genuine.
Heart racing, I wrote out a reply.
“Hey,
Thank you. Again. I don’t know how many times I can say that without sounding stupid :)
But … I am so happy right now. I have never, ever told anyone about this – it’s such a huge, huge secret. I used to tell myself that I would tell no one … I didn’t want anyone to know – at all. You are the first person I’ve ever told, and I’ve never even met you – but it feels so brilliant to have let it out. I’ve never even written it down! But 17 years is a long time to keep a secret, no matter how big it is. It feels so lovely to be able to tell someone something so personal and secretive and for them to understand you, and not make judgements about you. You’re the same as me – trying to hide it, trying to date guys, feeling sick to the stomach but convincing yourself it’s just a phase, just butterflies or nerves? I have the same fear – that I’ll fall in love with a girl and not fall in love with a boy and for it all to be so real.
Often when people come out they get accused of ‘lying to the world’ … but I don’t think people are lying, I think they’re scared – they’re in hiding. And I don’t blame them … but it’s people like you who have taken the step forward, making it that little bit easier for the rest of us. Even though my secret is still a secret to everyone around me, I can sleep tonight knowing that someone else on earth knows … and they don’t hate me because of it. And that’s so reassuring, you would not believe…
I am also amazed that you, too, found comfort in The L Word – that show has never, as far as I know, been broadcast in the UK, so I only came across it by chance … but I watched all six seasons and by the end of it I had come out as a different person. Sounds cheesy I know, but I got so involved with all the characters. Crying over Dana, feeling so happy for Bette and Tina when they had Angelica, and laughing along when Shane and Alice drew all over Shane’s billboard … all that stuff … made me realize that being gay is just a part of me. There’s so much more to a person than just their sexuality.
I want to be a writer, or film maker. I adore watching old black and white movies, or quirky foreign films that no one has heard of. I sing, I cook, I play guitar. I adore Taylor Swift too (I saw her at Wembley Arena in London on her Fearless tour last year).
Even though I’ve never met you, I feel like I’ve met someone I can talk to. Thank you for taking the time to write back.
Lucy x”
I was so happy. I’d found someone exactly like me. Sure, we were miles apart – but I now had someone I could talk to. Someone I could be honest with. Someone who, finally, would understand completely.
No matter how busy she was, Kaelyn always found the time to talk to me. When I was waking up to go to school, she’d be getting ready to go to sleep. When I came home in the evenings, she’d be about to start her day. We emailed back and forth endlessly, talked on the phone, and started Skyping, too – quietly, so no one else could hear. Hearing her voice gave me butterflies in my stomach. Talking to her quickly became the highlight of my day. Just knowing that she was there whenever I needed her was so comforting. I secretly hoped she felt the same way about me.
Kaelyn was so motivated and passionate about her career. She knew exactly what she wanted and she wasn’t afraid to go out and get it. Although she was just starting vet school, she already had her life planned out. Ordinarily I might have been intimidated by how driven and determined she was, but when we began to talk about our hopes and our fears for the future, I saw a softer, more sensitive side to her. I could tell she wasn’t the type of person who would open up to just anyone. I felt honoured that she’d let me see her at her most vulnerable.
She told me that all she wanted in life was to be happy and successful. I told her I wanted the same thin
g, and she laughed. “We make a great team then!”
The butterflies in my stomach started doing flips.
At the beginning of August, my family and I went on holiday to a small town in Suffolk. We would be staying in a little holiday cottage with no internet, so Kaelyn and I had reluctantly said our goodbyes. For the first time in months, we wouldn’t be able to talk every day.
I loved spending time with my family. We went on bike rides and explored the beaches. We ate ice creams on the promenade and went swimming in the pool – but nothing could fill the slow, dull ache of missing Kaelyn. It felt awful going to bed each night without saying goodnight to her. It felt like there was a piece of me missing. She had so quickly become a huge part of my life, and no part of me wanted that to change.
One afternoon, while my parents were reading in the living room, my brother and I headed out to the pool. The holiday cottage had a huge, rusted war bunker in the back garden, which the owners had converted into a small swimming pool. We splashed around, jumping off the side and diving for things, trying to hold our breath for as long as possible. Then we lounged around on our lilos, splashing water at each other, sipping on fizzy lemonade from cocktail glasses, sticking our little fingers out, pretending to be posh. It felt good to act like a kid again.
Laurie, who was now eleven, was telling me all about his classmates. He was at the same primary school I’d gone to, but the kids in his class sounded a lot nicer than mine had been.
“Most people are pretty cool,” he said, sipping from his glass. “There are a few nasty kids, but I just stay away from them.”
“Good.”
“I mean, they’re just horrible for the sake of it. Like, there’s this kid in my class, Alec, and he has two mums. And they make fun of him but the rest of us are like, why? I don’t see why people still have an issue with that. It’s 2010 for goodness’ sake.”
A huge grin spread across my face. In just one off hand comment, my brother had once again proved to me that most people didn’t seem to care about sexuality any more. I was so happy that I wanted to get up and sing. Instead, I just nodded enthusiastically.
Girl Hearts Girl Page 7