A Blade of Grass

A coming out story freshman year in high school

By: John Alejandro

It’s tough, but you’ll come out stronger.

This is what it might feel like first. But you’ll get over it. Life will go on.

Everyone, including them, will love you in the end.

Everything will stabilize later…I promise

Don’t live a lie.

The following is an account written two days after my coming out. I wrote it then to remind myself what I live for, and maybe to help those in the future who want to come out in any way possible.

--------------------

I’m at my cousin’s house worrying the hell out of myself. I talked to them as they calmed me down.

“I didn’t tell them anything. It’s just that my dad read a chat leading to a part that says ‘so did you want to kiss him?’ He freaked out when he saw that and well I ran away here” I said in panic.

“Don’t worry about it, did you tell him anything?”

“No I didn’t, it’s just that why do they have to act like this? I mean is that much of a big deal?”

“The way they grew up it was sodomy to be gay. They haven’t realized yet that times are changing and people are acting different. I just want you to know that I love you okay?”

“I know I know. I need to call my aunt. I want to talk to her. Can I use your phone?” I asked

“Go ahead” replied my cousin.

“Hello Lyn?”

‘Yes? Drix?’ she said

“Yeah it’s me”

‘Hello, what’s going on why do you sound so worried? Are you okay?’

“No...my dad...he found clues and suspects that I’m gay”

‘Well why don’t you just tell him you’re not, you’re not aren’t you?’

“That’s the problem, I’m sorry I just told you now, but I really need your help” I begged

‘What you ARE?!’ she said worried

“Yes and please help me, my parents are going berserk and I need to know if you can come over here because it feels like they’re gonna kill me?”

‘Oh my god you’re gay....oh...god...Wait are you sure you’re gay? Listen this is probably just a confusing time for you and you’re just going through a phase. You’ll get over it.’ she replied nonchalantly

“I’ve already had a boyfriend” I answered back

‘And do you do stuff with this boy?’ she interrogated

“That’s not important now, I just need to know if you can come over.” I begged once more

‘It’s too late right now. Just go home and pretend that everything is okay, even if it isn’t but I want you to stay strong for me you hear? Your dad will spot your weakness and he’s going to use that against you and I will come tomorrow with your uncle.’ she reassured me.

“Okay thank you so much, goodbye”

“Well what’d she say?” asked Garette

“She’s coming over tomorrow after dinner.”

“Well good, just don’t rush into telling them or do anything stupid” said Jean my cousin.

“Do you want any food? Water? Anything?” asked her husband.

“No I’ll just go home now”

“I’ll drop you off”

I got in Garette’s car and we drove past the church, which happens to be in front of the townhouse where I lived. He dropped me off by the curve. As I walked, I thought to myself ‘what the hell am I going to say, why couldn’t I just have parents that weren’t too conservative and ones that can understand and love me for who I am’. I rang the doorbell. A rotund figure walked through the living room filled with Catholic relics as his shadow radiated on the mosaic window near the entrance. The door swung open and a distraught face appeared.

“COME IN WE NEED TO TALK,” my dad’s voice boomed, he grabbed me by the arm.

“All right, you’re hurting me!”

“Why did that chat say ‘did you want to kiss HIM’ huh? Are you a faggot? Are you one of those disgusting sodomizing people in America? God why the hell did I bring you here if only I knew that this FUCKED up culture was going to do to you.”

“You have no right to go through my mail!” I said half crying

“Huh? Yeah? I don’t huh? Asshole! It’s my right as a parent to know how my kid is doing! .....you don’t have the right to go through my mail....” his face turned bloodshot

“I’m going to my room”

“We’re not done talking! Who said you can go?! Don’t you walk away when I’m talking to you!” he said, as his voice shook the floor.

He shouted, screamed, and yelled his words. If there was a god I wished him to kill me now. End my life. I didn’t know who I was anymore. All I thought was how to get out of a situation that involved a 200 lb man and the issue of being gay, and then cry later. I summoned up a few more minutes of vitality and endured a tirade of notions of going to hell. He finally stopped and I went into my room where I cried myself to sleep. That night was the worst night of my entire life. Never before did I see my parents side with one another and cared about something else rather than my grades. That’s what they cared about most anyway. For me to study well, get good grades and a scholarship so I can be rich. But then again I don’t know what tomorrow brings.

I woke up the next day finding my laptop open on an internet site about the Hamptons. Everyone looks so peaceful. I looked around and my shutters were also open and the room to my door was open. Satan and his wife were still sleeping, I thought as I walked through the hallway to get into the bathroom. I locked the door, brushed my teeth, and did my usual morning business when I saw on the mirror that my eyes were as red as a tomato and my cheeks were puffed into an almost marshmallow texture. I didn’t even feel like bawling, probably because all my hormones are still up and I didn’t want to break down yet. I went downstairs for cereal then my parents door opened and slammed back closed. Upon hearing the shock, my spoon fell because I thought I got shot. To my surprise it was a man walking down the stairs, mad-dogging me as he came closer. It was a lovely Tuesday and time for school.

We said nothing to each other as we walked to the Toyota Corolla parked in the garage. Cars passed us by, and I still kept quiet. Honks from the back signaled that he was driving too slow. Then, he took a sharp turn right when someone was trying to pass him. ‘Am I going to die today?’ I thought. Who knows? He dropped me off on the corner of Springport, where I usually walk another thirty yards to get to school.

“Asshole...” he murmured to me as he jetted off.

I wore my sunglasses in the hallway because I didn’t want people to see that I’d been crying. That whole day was a total drag. I didn’t concentrate or focus in class because of the fact that tonight my Aunt was coming over and I didn’t know what to do or say or how they’re going to react because up to this point, my parents didn’t know that I was gay. Later at lunch, my friend Shannon happened to notice I was crying and I told her everything and as a friend she made me feel better about the fact that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t know if everything was going to be all right.

My last school period ends in three minutes, I thought. My mom is picking me up in about 15 minutes, so that gives me about twenty to think thoroughly what I’m going to say, and what my comebacks were going to be. I didn’t think of anything. I walked through the gate and the wind was blowing dust all over my face. Dust got stuck in my eye. I walked across the street on the corner of Springport, where the SUV arrives every three o clock. I dropped my backpack on the cement sidewalk and jammed my butt down the concrete as I waited for a few more minutes, she was five minutes late, she’s never late.

“Hello” I said pretending nothing happened

Nothing.

Whatever...I don’t have to talk to her. I didn’t do anything wrong. It was because they were shocked and confused made the fact that they needed to hate me and that’s not right, I reassured myself. Nine minutes of driving silence made me think about El tigre (a fake name to protect his identity). He was the reason everything in my life changed since I met him. I loved his smile, his eyes, and his lean physique. Everything about him made my heart flutter, the way he whispered his words, even in normal conversation, the way his shoulders were leaned back when he walk, and when he smiles, two massive dimples appeared on his cheeks. Oh how I loved those dimples. So much hate, from so much love.

The Highlander stopped abruptly, and that was my cue to get off.

“Thank you” I said, even if there was never going to be an answer.

“You need to change yourself. You need to be straight. Men are supposed to be masculine, not girls!” she shouted as she drove off.

I felt nothing, somehow I’ve been numbed by everything that was given to me at a high dose. I felt immune, I felt a different kind of relief as I opened the door and dropped my stuff down. The salad is in the fridge, I could have some of that with a little bit of pepper and some vinegar and my lunch was complete. This day felt so different, but I continued with my normal routine. Get home, eat, do homework, play, sleep. This worked to my advantage. But today I might not get to play or sleep. Anxious clock hands kept ticking away minutes of eternity. Every hour I wait for my aunt to call me that she was coming. Every minute, focus fades away and I couldn’t do much of the things I used to. Even normal tasks such as going to the restroom took a second thought of “should I get up and go?”

Five thirty came and the first one to arrive was my mom. I didn’t greet her, as how she replied to my earlier greeting. I merely sat on my chair surfing the internet, while I could hear banging of dishes downstairs. I felt trapped. I wanted to get a glass of water, but the sight of her face giving me a dirty look prevented me from going. Six o clock and I could hear whispers of my complete embarrassment and even my death coming. Again I stayed in my room waiting for that call. Seven came and still nothing. I left my room to go use the restroom, but I had to make sure that the hallway was clear. I sneaked out, feeling like a prisoner escaping from his jail cell, into the bathroom. I turned the knob, and it won’t open. Crap! Someone was inside. A grunt was made and I scurried back into my room.

At eight o clock my aunt called and said that she was in front of my house. Finally. Thank god, kind of ironic nonetheless, a figure who was in my side finally came. I ran down to open the door and called my parents into the dining room. Hesitating steps went down the stairs as I kindly asked them to sit down. Their faces drowned in anger, and noses erect.

“Drix called us here because he wants to tell you something” my aunt said, “it is very important and he just told us last night so we didn’t know this for a long time either. Go ahead and tell them.”

“Mom and dad, I don’t know how to say this, but I want you to know so we can keep an honest relationship.” I said, “I’m bi.”

“What?! What the hell is bi?!” my dad shouted

“Bisexual, means that I like both girls and guys” I replied

“Oh my god...Oh my god....OH MY GOD...You’re my only son, how the fuck could you do this to me? How the hell do you turn that way. It’s your fucking shows isn’t it, Will and Grace, bullshit all the media brainwashed you to turn this way. I should’ve never bought cable...Oh my god!!!!!!! WHY?! How could you do this to me? Oh my god I raised a faggot! I worked so hard for you and your mom for us to get to America and this is what the culture does to you? AND THIS IS THE WAY YOU FUCKING REPAY ME?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” he shouted, and screamed and yelled.

His face turned red, and he started breathing furiously. Tears flowed again. I’m still human. I grabbed tissue, gasped for air, and hiccups came. I teared, and moments later I cried.

Following a monologue which pierced through my heart, my mom started weeping. Why?

“You’re just confused Drix” she said, “you’re just too smart to know what’s good for you. You became too smart and its just a phase but you have to control it....You’re our only son...Please..” she sobbed

“Its not phase.” I cried “why don’t you just accept me for who I am? Where’s the unconditional love that you’re supposed to give me?”

“Unconditional love...fucking asshole...You’re a fucking asshole! How could you do this to me...What the hell?! Fuck this shit Fuck everything!” screamed my dad in Tagalog, however it is articulately translated for you here.

“Ed stop it!” my aunt said. She hugged my head, “can’t you see you’re hurting the child? It’s okay Drix, it’s okay.”

She rocked my head front and back as she tried to fight off my dad. I knew it wasn’t okay. Not everything’s going to be fine, until after a while. He approached as he made a circle with his hands pretending to wring my neck and coming closer.

“FUCK YOU!” he said

“Don’t get near me! GO away” I yelled as my aunt blocked him.

He ran upstairs and went into my room. I could hear banging and clashing sounds as my stuff fell downstairs. My teddy bear, my necklaces, my bamboo plant all came tumbling after. My poster of Orlando Bloom flew down in a crushed ball.

“See how many things make you a girl?! Huh? You shouldn’t even have this stuff! These are for girls. You bitch!” he said.

“Mike could you please stop him...” I begged “He’s throwing away half my stuff”

“You know Drix, this is how your dad deals with his emotions. I say stopping him will only make it worse. Just let him go”

“But my stuff…”

“Those are only material things. They mean nothing.” he said. I believed him. My things do not define who I am, these are merely representations of me.

My mom got up from the dining table and went out. My aunt handed me another tissue and I wiped my tears and blew my nose. I saw my reflection on the toaster next to the table. My eyes were bloodshot and my eye had black circles that sunk to the floor. I hated the way I looked when I’m miserable. I hate it...

“Excuse me” I said as I got up and left

I went into the cold outside. The cold was drying the moisture off my face leaving a hard residue of salt where my tears were once where. I ran to the garage and hid in a corner where I called my friend Shannon.

“Shannon....” I bawled “it’s John, I need to talk to you”

“Oh my god, John are you crying?” she said “Dude what happened, why do you sound like that”

“I told my parents that I was bi and they freaked out.” tears started running again

“Oh...they didn’t handle it well...John I need you to calm down right now okay? I need you to talk to me and tell me what happened”

“I’ll try...”

“Okay so you just recently told them that you were bi?” she asked

“Yeah, and I thought it was going to clear a lot of things up, but they just exploded! Fucking homophobes! Why couldn’t they just understand? There’s a lot of crap I’m going through right now and I don’t need another issue to deal with. I’m a good person, I don’t deserve this. All I ever try to do is make them happy. All my grades are good, the way I treat them is what any parent would kill to have their child act like! God I wish I had different parents...I hate them I hate them so much, I’ve never gotten in trouble, I never did drugs or anything wrong and yet they act like this. Fucking Catholics...I swear, all they preach about is equality and charity but what the fuck do these people do?!”

“Aww...John...I know this is a tough time for you, but you have to stay strong okay?” she said with a comforting voice, “things will get better, just give them time and maybe they’ll learn to accept you”

“My uncle is outside where I am, probably there to guard incase that I run” I told her

“Who else is there”

“My aunt and uncle, that’s all” I said.

An ogre slowly walked through the entrance of the garage and came toward me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out.

“Give me your fucking cell phone, we need to talk this through!” he said with a menacing tone.

“Get away from me! Let me go!” I yelled at him

He took my cell phone and put it in his pocket and dragged me back inside. The warm living room flushed my face red. It was an inviting place, an ironic twist, in which I’m comfortable from the cold, yet tortured. It turns out that he threw away the stuff he sent flying out. I ran into my room and kept silent for half an hour. It was now nine o clock.

I looked around my room. It seems so empty and desolate missing the essential things that make me….well me. Then footsteps came and it was my mom. She asked me to come down and I did. I feared nothing could be far worse. I was so numbed to everything that had happened that I felt like a mindless zombie.

Upon reaching the last step, I turned my head and scanned the living room. Sitting was a man in a dark outfit with a square on his neck. My mom went to the church to get help from a priest. I was too dumbfounded and shocked to even say a word. I just let my tinnitus ring to the whole tirade of the parents and the priest.

After this event, a series of smaller events in which my dad degraded fags happened, my allowance was cut, and I was not allowed to go out past a certain time. Both would remind me every day to turn straight. And for a few months, and now to my shame, I tried... to deny who I was and force myself to turn straight. Futile was the best way to describe it at the time. Now it just seems ridiculously stupid.

I used this anger to strive hard. I found jobs. I tutored, worked with the school district, spent more time in extracurricular clubs in school, and got into UCI’s competitive nursing program. I channeled this fuming anger into something productive. Now my parents can’t do anything that will disrupt me. I am infinitely stronger, not insecure or damaged, but someone that has thrived.

Life with them is more peaceful now. There’s a tacit understanding of both parties’ stances and situations. Religion played the majority role into this affair, but now I realize that I can’t stereotype religious people in the same way they stereotype gay people as flamboyant hairdressers and comedians so opulently viewed in the Filipino culture. I now identify as gay. I used bisexuality to help them and I to transition, however that backfired. I consider myself lucky to have lived so close to hate that I know how to avoid it.

I am a blade of grass that breaks through asphalt in a church parking lot. If I had a choice to come out again, I’d do it over and over again.