by Dan Savage
One day, my mother took me to a psychiatrist who was supposed to help me change. I felt so guilty and humiliated for having a doctor tell me how to sit properly. He tried to change my tone of voice, and even prescribed the antidepressant Prozac for me, which I thought then was a magic pill that would make me manlier. I lied in every session in hopes that I could stop going. I told the psychiatrist that I was acting tougher in school, and the kids were not making fun of me anymore. The reality was that the bullying was getting worse, and I did not having anyone I could trust to talk to about it.
I ended up believing the false, negative stereotypes that I heard growing up because I lacked any evidence of the contrary. I did not know anyone else who was gay. I felt lonely and isolated, and I was barely speaking to my family. One night, while I was riding in the car with my grandfather, he demanded I tell him why I always seemed so sad. I did not want to talk about it with him because I knew that he was extremely homophobic. I was definitely not ready to come out but he pressured me so hard that I ended up telling him that I was gay. He told me that gay people could never have happy lives because no one loves them. He asked me to think about the rest of the family and how much I was going to shame and hurt them. He said that all gay people are promiscuous, and not worthy of respect or success. He told me that I was abnormal. He said that everyone hates gay people, even in bigger cities and more progressive countries. And then, he cried.
I had never seen him cry so hard. It was so traumatic to see him so upset and hear him say these terrible things that I ended up blocking my own emotions. I decided that it would be easier to lie to him. So a couple of days later, I told him that I was no longer gay, and I had just been confused. I knew this was not true, and I was lonelier than ever because now I felt like my family would never love me for who I was. I got so depressed that I started thinking about ending my life. The future scared me. I contemplated a life of suffering and loneliness and figured that I would never be able to be happy. Killing myself would be the only way to truly end all of the pain.
I was very close to committing suicide before I decided I should at least tell someone else my secret. I was not sure if I could tell Angie. Even though I knew that I could trust her, I was afraid that she would react negatively and that I would lose my only ally in the school. I decided to tell her anyway because I knew that if I did not share my secret with anyone, it was going to end up killing me. I came out to her. I told her everything that had happened with my grandfather and how bad the bullying at school was making me feel. Telling her was the best decision I have ever made. I was able to release so much anxiety and repressed feelings. She was happy that I trusted her, and made me feel like I was special for being different. It was so refreshing to suddenly have someone to count on. I had been keeping this secret my whole life, and I was finally able to experience what it was like to be completely honest with another person. I realized then that I was capable of developing true friendships; having someone that loved me unconditionally made it clear to me that life was still worth living.
When I moved to the United States for college, I met new people and started building deep connections and friendships with other gay people and straight allies. I got the chance to finally experience what it was like to belong to a community. I helped set up an agency that provides a safe space for LGBT teenagers so that they are supported through their coming-out process and won’t have to go through what I did. I came to appreciate the beauty and magic of the LGBT culture. Most importantly, my LGBT peers inspired me to truly embrace myself and understand that there was nothing wrong with me. I didn’t need to change for anyone.
I have come to realize that every single negative stereotype that my grandfather recited that dreadful night has turned out to be completely false. Not everyone hates gay people. In fact, there are many LGBT people who are loved and respected by their community and have built successful careers. I know openly gay people who are politicians, artists, lawyers, writers, doctors, and activists. Gay people are not perverts. LGBT individuals create healthy, fulfilling, and happy lives. I’m a happy person today, surrounded by loving friends and a partner whom I am planning to marry. The reality is that, little by little, even my family has come to accept and love me for who I truly am. But none of this would have happened if I were not here. If I had ended my life, I would not have been able to meet so many wonderful people. I would not have experienced the togetherness and belonging that comes from truly deep friendships. I would not have been able to fall in love. I would not have known what it feels like to be embraced by a community. I would not have been able to see that life does get better.
I promise that your life will get better, too. I fact, you can start creating a better life right now. Even when you think there is no one to talk to, you can reach out to the Trevor Project or the Alliance for GLBTQ Youth and ask for help when you are feeling depressed. If you are being bullied, say something. Supportive adults can be your allies; they can help you file a complaint to stop the bullying in your school. If it is safe for you, you can make your school a more inclusive place by starting a Gay-Straight Alliance with the help of understanding adults. You can also contact your state equality agency and get involved in developing a safe schools policy and training for your district. Most importantly, always be on the lookout for warning signs of depression and suicide so that you can help yourself and your friends stay safe.
No matter how hard it may get, or how isolated and sad you may feel, remember that you are loved despite what your grandfather, relatives, neighbors, or anyone might say. The LGBT community needs you and all your unique gifts and talents to help us build a better future. Above everything else, deep within your heart, you must know that IT GETS BETTER.
Juan Carlos Galan, MS,is a writer, activist, and social researcher. He has worked with the Alliance for GLBTQ Youth (www.glbtqalliance.org), an agency that provides a full range of social services for LGBT youth in Miami-Dade county. Galan developed and coordinated the agency’s information systems and research efforts. He’s also heavily involved with immigration equality, lobbying Congress for comprehensive immigration reform that is inclusive of LGBT families and raising media awareness about the legal struggles that bi-national same-sex couples have to face.
THE GAY GUY IN THE BAND
Kevin Samual Yee
BROOKLYN, NY
When I was eleven, I saw an episode of Sally Jesse Raphael where she was interviewing a young gay teen and his religious family. I watched his family bickering and crying, trying to convince him that it was just a phase. I remember thinking to myself, “Gee . . . what a hard life. I hope that I don’t grow up to be gay.”
I was an awkward teen and never quite fit in with any crowd. I’m pretty sure that every teenager feels this way no matter who they are or how comfortable they seem on the outside. I liked musical theater and dancing and spent my free time participating in the local theater scene. I was basically a male version of Lea Michele in Glee.
At the age of fifteen I was hired to be part of a boy band. The Backstreet Boys and ’N Sync were at the top of the charts so being in a boy band was a pretty big deal. I figured I was on the road to superstardom.
It was another story all together.
From the moment I was hired, the executives at the record label took issue with me. They thought I came off “gay.” And that was a problem if I was ever going to appeal to the throngs of teenage girls who would buy our album. It began with several closed-door media sessions where we discussed how to talk “straight.” Don’t articulate as much . . . Mumble more; use more current slang; if asked who your favorite singer is, Celine Dion is not the right answer, etc. . . .
They tried to change my appearance by bleaching my hair, piercing my ears, and dressing me in an array of oversized baggy clothing mostly worn backward. Why they thought these changes would make me look less gay I will never know. Their interpretation of straight was actually more offensive then they’re negative view of gay. At on
e point, the group’s manager even marched me up and down the aisles of a grocery store so I could practice my “straight” walk (which essentially looked like I had sprained my ankle and was trying not to put pressure on it).
It was humiliating.
I spent three years in that group learning to act “straight” before our album bombed and we were all sent home.
The first thing I did when I left the group was come out of the closet. I was gay. And after years of being someone else, I wanted to finally be myself.
I’ve been lucky enough to find my place on the stage working in musical theater for the past ten years. You can be whoever you want to be here. When I think back on my time in the boy band, I laugh at how silly it all was. Of course, then I was devastated, feeling judged for who I was. Now I see how big this world really is—there is a place for everyone. And to truly enjoy it, you have to be able to celebrate yourself.
Kevin Yee is a Broadway actor who has been seen in companies of Mary Poppins, Wicked, and Mamma Mia. He is also a singer/songwriter with two albums, and creator of the YouTube webseries The Kevin Yee Show. His video contribution to the It Gets Better Project featured actors from the Wicked 2nd National Tour.
WILL I GROW UP TO BE PAUL LYNDE?
by Andy Cohen
NEW YORK, NY
Back when I was a kid in the suburbs of St. Louis in the ’70s and early ’80s, there were no gay people on TV with the exception of Paul Lynde and Charles Nelson Reilly, who were basically these two huge queens. They were very funny but everybody kind of laughed at them. So in my mind, gay people were laughed at and didn’t really have any impact or any value as members of society.
I realized that I was gay somewhere around eleven, twelve, or thirteen years of age. And the only time I would allow myself to face that fact would be late at night. I’d be alone in my room, just lying there in the dark of night thinking, This isn’t going to happen for me; this life is going to turn really bad. No one is going to accept me, and no one is going to love me, and my family will not have this, and all my friends who I love will be no more, and I will never be able to be the person that I know I am.
It was heartbreaking.
And it was something that I didn’t allow myself to face that often. But, every once in a while, I would have a very long, sleepless night—those were some of the longest nights of my life. And they did not stop until I went to college in Boston. There, I slowly found my way. One semester I went abroad and was able to find out who I really was. I could express myself to the new friends I was making and create my own identity. And was able to figure out on my own how all of that was going to play out for me in my life.
After that trip I was nothing other than who I am today. It didn’t change me; it didn’t define me; it was just that part of who I am was finally able to emerge. I found acceptance and I found love. So for anybody who’s having a sleepless night or a sad day, or has some asshole picking on them, just know that you’re going to wind up way better off than that asshole. They’ll probably get really fat and lose their hair; it’ll be a nightmare for that person. But you’re going to be okay, because it gets better. I promise.
Born in St. Louis, Andy Cohen is Bravo’s executive vice president of original programming and development, responsible for overseeing the network’s current development and production slate of such hit shows as Top Chef, Top Chef Masters, The Real Housewives series, Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List, The Millionaire Matchmaker, Flipping Out, and many others. In addition, Cohen is the host and executive producer of Watch What Happens: Live. Cohen received an Emmy Award for Top Chef and has been nominated for nine additional Emmy Awards. In June 2010, he was listed as one of TV Guide’s “25 Most Influential People in Television.”
FINDING WHO I AM
by Hunter Adeline Brady
STAMFORD, CT
I am a happy sixteen-year-old girl with a great group of friends, but when I was younger I always seemed to be the odd one out among the kids in my neighborhood. I was rarely invited over to play, until one of the kids’ parents would demand that I be included. I assumed it was just because they could only have a few people over at a time, or it was a family thing, until I got older and realized I wasn’t being included because I wasn’t like them. Eventually, they just cut me out of their lives all together.
I was told middle school was going to provide a fresh start. That everything was going to be great because I would be able to change everything and magically make it all better. That wasn’t the case. I felt like a newborn infant being thrown into a tidal wave. It all started off crazy and scary: getting my first locker, moving from classroom to classroom, making new friends, or at least trying to. And then I met my future worst enemy, my first bully. His name was Alex and he was about my height and weight and was actually nice to me after school that first day. But as the days went by, he started calling me names like “Big Red,” “Ginger,” “Freak,” and anything else he could think of.
Alex bullied me by calling me names, commenting on my clothing and the way I looked in general. He made me want to stay in bed all day and hide from the world. I was scared to walk into school and hear what he would say next. I did not know who to turn to, so I ventured off into the world of theater. And that is where I found my true home—a place I felt safe and where I could be myself. I got a lead role after my first audition, and felt that I could really show people that I was actually someone who was passionate about something. I wanted to prove to Alex that I wasn’t a “nothing” like he always told me I was. I continued to shine on the stage, unafraid to go all out.
I still wanted to fit in, which meant having a boyfriend like all the other eighth-grade girls. I’d had crushes but it didn’t seem like any of the boys liked me back. I thought there was something wrong with me. And then I began to wonder, “Do I even like boys?” I was scared of what the real answer might be. I didn’t say anything to anyone about these thoughts and feelings that I was suddenly having. Then, during the summer after eighth grade, I was sleeping over at a friend’s house. It was all fine until she kissed me. I instantly called my mom to pick me up. I did not understand what had just happened. I knew what it was like to kiss someone because people had dared me to before. But I didn’t know what it was like to kiss a girl. I didn’t think it was wrong but I was afraid that maybe she would think that it was a mistake. I couldn’t help but smile as I got into the car to go home. I couldn’t deny it, it felt right.
That summer came to an end and it was time for me to go to high school. I was entering a massive school that both my sister and mom had attended and loved. It started off amazing and I was enjoying it until I started struggling with grades and all of the normal things that happen in your first year of high school.
I wasn’t happy. Something was missing and I didn’t know what, until I met the girl that would be my best friend. She was awesome. I could be myself around her and we shared the same curiosity. Actually, she wasn’t curious. She knew she was bisexual. We never had anything beyond friendship, but after meeting her, I was able to proudly say that I was bisexual. She helped me realize that it was normal to feel what I was feeling. I was afraid to tell my parents about my sexuality until halfway through my sophomore year. When I finally did tell my mom, she was completely fine with it. I think she thought it was just a phase. I think she still does. I didn’t tell my dad, though. I was afraid to for some reason, and still kind of am.
I began hating that school. The teachers did not seem to care too much if you were doing your best, and the students did not care at all. They were also extremely rude. When I walked down the halls, it turned into middle school all over again, with people calling me names and even occasionally shoving me into lockers. I knew that I deserved better. I wanted to be in a better environment so I could go to a good college. I transferred to a new school—an all-girls, private school. Girls at my school know that I am bisexual and are completely okay with it. I know who I am and am truly happy with the per
son I have become. Finding my true sexuality has changed my life and I wouldn’t change anything that I went through for the world. I have found who I really am and I am happy now. And that is all that matters.
Hunter Brady is currently a sophomore, getting good grades and loving life. She is studying voice and acting at the Studio in New Canaan, Connecticut. She loves photography and performing onstage. As long as she can bring a smile to another’s face, she can smile. Hunter’s video was part of We Want It to Get Better, a video created by teachers Jeremy Leiner, Ethan Matthews, and Chris York with the students of the Studio in New Canaan as a way to give teens an open platform to share their generation’s perspective and send support to their peers.
COMMUNITY
by Chaz Bono
LOS ANGELES, CA
Growing up is really hard, and when you’re an LGBT youth, it’s even more difficult. You can feel like you’re the only person like you in the world. Maybe you’re dealing with bullying in school or judgment from your family, and it’s really easy to get into the mindframe that life is never going to get better—that this is what it’s going to be like and I’m always going to feel like an outsider. I’m always going to feel bad about myself.