When I was in elementary school, I didn't quite fit in with the other kids. I can remember feeling like an outsider as far back as first grade, although I don't remember much of anything before that. I was definitely labeled as an "outcast" early on. There were many days when I sat by myself at lunch. I sat at the opposite end of the table that the popular girls sat at, and I could feel their eyes on me all through lunch. I could hear them whispering and giggling about me. Recess was much of the same. I played by myself a lot, walking in circles around the playground. I tried to play kickball and wiffle ball with the boys, but either I wouldn't be allowed to play or I would be picked last for teams. I tried to hang out with some girls too, but they didn't like me very much. Besides, talking about where we took dance and how much we loved pink didn't interest me. I've always hated pink. I got lucky though. I wasn't always alone. I became friends with a few other outcasts and we played out iwn games during recess. But, they couldn't shelter me from the worst torture, the school bus. Every day, I had to listen to them harass me. I was the last stop on my bus route, so I sang to myself to keep occupied. Some of the kids had cell phones and recorded my singing. That absolutely mortified me. I also got a death threat from someone on the bus. It read: "Stop being weird or we'll kill you." I was so happy to be moving into the middle school after fifth grade. I thought things would get better. Boy, was I wrong.
Middle school was okay, for the first half of sixth grade. Most of the kids were too worried about adjusting to the school to bother with the weirdo. I would go outside and play with the guys during recess, but they didn't bother with me much. I found a new table to sit at. A whole table of misfits! And, of course, I was the misfit at the table of misfits. I knew I was different, and the other kids knew it too. But, no one wanted to say anything because we were all outcasts. Even the people I thought were my friends didn't want to associate with me. Then right after Valentine's Day I started dating a kid from my orchestra. We'll call him James. James seemed like a really sweet kid. He made me feel like I could belong somewhere. His friends, on the other hand, were a different story. These "friends" were the same guys who I played with during recess earlier in the year. Once they heard that James and I were together, they tormented me constantly. They called me a lesbian, ugly, whore, retarded, freak. They told me that no one would ever want me. The list goes on and on. Not only did they say mean things about me, but they also assaulted me. I was tripped, kicked, shoved, grabbed, and punched on multiple occasions. James would just stand there and laugh as my face was slammed into the dirt of the school baseball diamond. Just my luck, my first partner is emotionally abusive and his friends are even worse. After the beginning on seventh grade, his friends dared him to break up with me, so he did. I cared for all of one day. Then my friend gave me a pumpkin muffin and I got over him. I never dated anyone in my grade in my school again. At the end of seventh grade, I had my first exposure to the LGBTQ community. Two of the girls at my lunch table started dating. They explained this to me, and I remember being really chill about it. They were my friends and they were happy. I'm so glad that I was introduced to the LGBTQ community through them rather than through my parents or my church. Seventh and eighth grade passed, and I was still being harassed every day. Most of the harassment was centered on the idea that I was a lesbian and that I was very butch. How come my enemies came closer to pinpointing who I really was than I did? Anyway, I was very happy when I graduated the eighth grade and got ready to move into the high school.
I feel like I need to address the summer between middle school and high school. Something very important happened to me that summer. I stopped caring about what my peers thought of me. It didn't happen overnight, but the process definitely began that summer. I learned that I could, and should, be happy exactly as I am. I think it's safe to say that this summer was a huge turning point for me. I was finally beginning to realize who I was.
High school didn't start off as well as I'd hoped, but it could've been worse. The harassment was much more limited because I didn't have classes with many I my bullies, nor did I have to share a cafeteria with them anymore. However, there was another issue. At this time, my feelings of dysphoria began to intensify. I had always felt like I didn't quite belong in my body, but I thought the feeling would go away as I got older. However, it only got worse. This caused me to feel depressed and anxious. By the middle of my sophomore year, I fell into a serious depression. My grades dropped drastically and I felt alone. It was a dark time for me, and I seriously contemplated suicide. Trans* people in the United States commit suicide at a rate of 41%, far higher than the national average. I was lucky. I got help. Although the help I received did not address my dysphoria, it certainly helped me a lot. I can say that that part of my life is in the past. By the end of my sophomore year, I was seriously questioning my gender. I didn't feel female, but male didn't quite fit either. I was lost and confused.
The summer between my sophomore and junior years was another pivotal point in time for me. This was the summer I first came across the term "gender fluid". A person I became friends with that summer mentioned the term as we were decorating posters for our camp's GSA. I asked him some more questions on what it meant and it seemed like the term explained how I felt. I was finally starting to feel comfortable with my gender. After some more research, I determined that this was how I felt. By the end of the summer, I came out to my then partner and many of my close friends.
During my junior year I decided that I would join my school's GSA. I'm really glad I did. I was able to connect with kids who understood what I was going through. National Coming Out Day was special for me that year. I decided to come out publicly on Facebook. I got a lot of support from my friends and extended family, but I also got a lot of questions. This constant stream of questions lead me to make this blog, because all those questions needed to be answered somewhere. After that came the YouTube channel that I'm working on starting up. I see good things for me in the future.
So, that's my story from start to finish. I hope you all enjoyed reading the queer story of my life. If you have any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions, please post them in the comments section below. If you have any personal questions, feel free to contact me at realqueerlife@gmail.com. Thank you all for listening to my story.
Lots of love,
Nick
