Positive Thoughts: Passing the Test

By Oriol R. Gutierrez Jr

Getting tested for HIV nowadays is a snap. In the era of over-the-counter rapid in-home testing, I’m befuddled why so many gay men, especially young guys, lack awareness of their HIV status.

I suppose part of the answer, at least for young guys, is plain old feelings of invincibility. All young and young-minded folks share in those feelings.

Perhaps, for some guys, not knowing gives them license to say they’re HIV negative, since for all they know they are. For others, perhaps not knowing insulates them from any potential pain of a positive result.

I could keep that list going, but the point is that countless reasons exist for not knowing. Many of those reasons may even seem reasonable. Well, I’m here to tell you that no reason you can come up with is a good one.

Maybe you’re just a procrastinator. No matter. I’m a world-class procrastinator myself. Procrastination isn’t a good reason. Being fine with getting tested in theory but delaying doing so in practice is only asking for trouble.

Knowing your HIV status is crucial. If you test negative, you have incentive to stay that way. If you test positive, you can start the process of staying healthy. Better to know now than to be blind-sided later.

Although I’ve been living with HIV for more than two decades, I still remember what it’s like to get tested for the virus. The fear is understandable, but it shouldn’t stop you. Your health is paramount.

I passed my first HIV test with flying colors: Negative. At the time, I had just turned 21 and boy was I psyched. I was cleared for duty, so to speak, as well as legal to drink. Watch out world, here I come.

However, I was more careful this time around. Before that test, I hadn’t always adhered to the condom rule, although I knew the risks. Now that I was given this reprieve, I was determined not to squander it.

A year later, I failed my second HIV test: Positive. I found out the day after my 22nd birthday. My commanding officer in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve read my diagnosis from a script. Cold, but tactful.

I knew the positive result was correct, but denial took over. I retested twice before accepting the reality of my situation. At that moment, I started believing that I was going to die before I turned 30.

It was 1992. Effective HIV treatment wouldn’t arrive until 1996 and AIDS-related deaths were still increasing. The death of my boyfriend in 1994 only increased my fear that I wouldn’t live much longer.

Fast-forward over two decades. Turns out I’m still here and I plan on being here for a long time. Failing that HIV test wasn’t the end of the world, but I must admit that I still wish that I had passed it.

I’ve learned to live with HIV in my body, but the virus remains an unwelcome guest. If the cure for HIV was here tomorrow, I would quickly get in line. I have no romantic attachment to the virus.

I also have no attachment to any resentment about getting HIV. Despite my late boyfriend not telling me the truth about his being HIV positive, I agreed not to use condoms with him. We both shared in that decision.

I’m not alone. Much of why the epidemic continues can be explained by folks not knowing their status and transmitting HIV unintentionally, but also by couples who ditch condoms before they know for sure each is negative.

You could argue that my late boyfriend had a moral imperative to disclose his HIV status that was higher than my moral imperative to protect myself. Perhaps you could even be right. However, even after all this time, I still haven’t decided.

What I have decided, now having lived more than half of my life with HIV, is that I did the right thing for myself by forgiving him. I believe he never intended to transmit HIV, so forgiving him wasn’t too difficult for me.

The anger I felt toward him in the first few years after I seroconverted was soon trumped by the experience of now being in his shoes. Not pretty. Rejection was everywhere. The stigma was stifling. I now understood.

And I still understand. Little has changed when it comes to HIV stigma. Not only has the virus proven resistant to a cure, it also has resisted decades of attempts to eradicate the stigma surrounding it.

Strangely enough, I believe testing regularly for HIV would do wonders in stomping out stigma. If everyone did it, and did it often, folks would finally start feeling like it’s not so scary. Peer pressure at its best.

Oriol R. Gutierrez Jr. is the editor-in-chief of POZ magazine. Find him on Twitter @oriolgutierrez. This column is a project of Plus, Positively Aware, POZ, The Body and Q Syndicate, the LGBT wire service. Visit their websites — http://hivplusmag.com, http://positivelyaware.com, http://poz.com and http://thebody.com — for the latest updates on HIV/AIDS.

Three Shades of Gay

by Desmond Slowe

Now that Pride is over for 2015, get ready to go back to your normally scheduled life.

Let me rewind nine-weeks: There I was, sitting in the waiting room of the Boise Counseling Center waiting for my first appointment with a gay counselor.

The previous Friday I made a plan which consisted of contacting my insurance company for counseling benefits and finding a LGBT counselor. Once I got the name and number of the Boise Counseling Center I called and scheduled an appointment. Whew! First step done and the easiest in the process.

I received the new client paperwork via email before the weekend and had it all filled out and ready to go when I arrived. I was nervous and chatted with the front desk person, Chris, while waiting for the counselor.

This was a new adventure for me: counseling. I needed to talk to someone about where I was in regards to my sexuality and relationships. I wanted someone that was objective and impartial, so here I was.

In walked the counselor. Jacob Durtschi was the Licensed Clinical Social Worker I had scheduled with. I had really one criteria in looking for a counselor: gay. I felt that my struggle as a gay man was best relatable by working with someone who was also gay.

My nervousness quickly subsided when Jacob and I started talking and his natural empathy and rapport comforted my apprehension and phobia about counseling. During the session he mentioned a book that I should read, The Velvet Rage. The exact title of the book is The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing up Gay in a Straight Man’s World. Great title.

Two days later my Amazon Prime purchase had arrived.

The Velvet Rage needs to be a book every gay man reads. Put it on your “must-read” list now!

It is written by Alan Downs, a clinical psychologist who draws from his private practice experience, his personal gay journey and the journeys of clients he has worked with.

Downs refers to a very specific anger he has encountered in his gay patients which he has coined as The Velvet Rage. Catchy phrase. The book explores the drug abuse, promiscuity or alcoholism this anger that may be displayed in gay men. Downs argues that the root of this anger is found in childhood shame and parental rejection.

He writes, “Velvet rage is the deep and abiding anger that results from growing up in an environment when I learn that who I am as a gay person is unacceptable, perhaps even unlovable.”

I can relate to this. I live in Idaho and feeling unaccepted is an almost daily feeling.

Downs breaks down the gay male struggle into three stages: Overwhelmed by Shame, Compensating for Shame, and Cultivating Authenticity.

Shame is a huge theme in his book for the fact that it can be consuming and damaging to a gay man’s mental wellbeing.

The first stage, Overwhelmed by Shame is the stage ALL gay men deal with when they first struggle with their sexuality.

Shame caused by a dual existence. We have all heard of “being in the closet” and stage one is that dual existence.

I acknowledged my gayness as a junior in high school but I still limited my outness since I lived in Meridian. I was not a jock, I was a band geek so my duality was not so severe. I was the Damian at Meridian High School – almost too gay to function. I never hid it but I was also not having little pride parades every day as I walked the halls.

The second stage, Compensating for Shame, is the stage gay men endure when they try to make up for feeling different from other men, as outsiders in society, and flawed. What does this compensating look like? Well, for me, like many sexually repressed and confused kids, it was being really good at school.

Getting straight A’s and being in all the best clubs and groups so I looked like a model student. I was trying to make one part of my life seem “normal.” I was addicted to being the perfect student. Other gay guys develop other addictions. This stage also sees the appearance of depression. Being gay is hard and sometimes realizing you are gay makes you mad and sad – I get it. I have been there; I am still there. I am pissed it is even an issue.

The addiction and depression are self-destructive behaviors but I don’t think they are inherent to gay men. I think life is hard for everyone. I think we need to be kind since everyone is battling a hard fight but I also feel that as a minority with unprotected rights, it is a much harder battle. My addiction is food and shopping, versus alcohol, drugs or sex but can be just as destructive.

Food is tough since many people (myself included) use food for joyous celebration and comfort for the hard times. There are days that I am so glum that I want to pull a Greta Garbo (“I vant to be alone.”). See no one, stay in my apartment watching Sabrina, While You Were Sleeping and the complete Gilmore Girls boxed set while doing my best impression of a cat without legs. Often accompanied with every frozen restaurant brand that Albertsons stocks. Although it feels amazing to eat a pile of T.G.I. Friday’s Loaded Cheddar & Bacon Potato Skins and Mozzarella Sticks while lounging on my couch watching Lorelei and Rory navigate their colorful lives in their quirky, eclectic Connecticut town, it is not healthy – physically or mentally.

Stage three is gay nirvana: Cultivating Authenticity. Like Rupaul says, “If you don’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?” Straight (gayly forward) from the horse’s mouth! Cultivating Authenticity is all about loving yourself. You get past the parts of your life where you were beaten down by shame, accepted it, bought the t-shirt, and are now ready to live your life for you. You want the best life you can have and stage three is when you have transcended into a state in which self-destructive behaviors no longer interest you. Gay paradise. Your own personal Ibiza or Mykonos!

Like I mentioned earlier, I am in my ninth week with Mr. Durtschi. I am just beginning my Velvet Rage journey. I have all the baggage of shame checked and getting ready for this flight to land. It may be long, uncomfortable and seem exhausting at times, but it is a journey I need to make to find my bliss – my happiness.

My wish is for all gay men to be authentic. I believe the world would be a better place for all gay men once we are truly happy with ourselves. I found this book through a trained counselor, a guide to help me through my journey, my gay Sherpa on the Mt. Everest I need to conquer. If you, too, want to find your bliss, please explore the options available at the Boise Counseling Center.

The Boise Counseling Center is located near the stadium at BSU and next to the greenbelt (Mr. Durtschi will conduct portions of our counseling session while walking on the greenbelt, which is relaxing and refreshing). There is a diverse team of educated and licensed professionals just waiting to help.

Please visit their website
boisecounselingctr.com or give the lovely Chris a call at 208-908-0500.

And always remember what Kasey Musgraves sang:

Say what you think
Love who you love
‘Cause you just get
So many trips ‘round the sun
Yeah, you only
Only live once
Just follow your arrow
Wherever it points, yeah
Follow your arrow
Wherever it points

 

 

How To: Adopt a Child

by Jessy Forsmo- Shadid

There are many ways that a person can start a family of their own. Choosing which way to make that family on the other hand is the harder part. Here are some tips on how to adopt a child of your own.

Be sure and be excited.

Closet of the Beast

by Ezikiel Coy

He sat across from me in the comfort of my home. I had just made coffee and set up a small workstation out of a TV tray, and had my computer playing Pandora quietly to help make my living room more inviting. After exchanging pleasantries and getting us each a cup of coffee, I sat down across from him with my computer off to the side. I reminded him that we wouldn’t be publishing his name, or any information that I felt could compromise his identity. He smiled, and took a sip from his coffee, and said “I’ve always liked the name Mike, you can call me that.” Mike is 37, divorced just last year, and the father of two young women.

For many of us in Idaho, being openly gay is still potentially social or professional suicide. While the numbers of men or women who aren’t openly gay are unknown, it is important for the pioneers of sexual orientation equality to understand the phobias and anxieties that come with hiding who you are. Mike had been in the closet for years, and he has been a friend of mine for only a short period of time. Since his divorce, he hasn’t spent much time with his two daughters because they live with their mother out of state. Coming out of the closet has turned his life upside down for the last two years. He didn’t so much choose to sit his wife down and tell her, it was more of an accident.

Like many closeted men, Mike would find outlets for his sexual identity. Usually, this would be short hook-ups, though he did tell me that for a while he had a boyfriend outside of his marriage but it was too difficult to be a family man, work full time to provide for his family, and run the risk of having a second relationship so he ended it. When asked about his daughters, Mike choked back tears and clutched his coffee cup.

It’s a touchy subject, but especially with the prevalence of bills such as marriage amendments and Add the Words, it’s important for people to know clearly why our community is fighting to get the right to exist as we were born. I have been hearing a lot about Don Dew and his experience with disability and sexual orientation discrimination while applying for a state job. Clearly, there are still many hurdles to overcome as we progress into the 21st century. Mike’s situation is made even worse because he thought that without being “normal,” he would never be able to have the family he always wanted. Now, his entire family is all but lost to him because he was living a life that started out with lies as a foundation.

His father was “a good old boy,” as he puts it. An old school conservative and a devout Christian, he never wanted his father to find out just how different they were. “He would never accept me if I told him. He still doesn’t know.” He sips his coffee.

In Idaho, it is still possible for homosexuals to be discriminated against by their employers. The Add the Words campaign has worked tirelessly to add sexual and gender identity to the Idaho human rights bill, but so far in vain. One aspect of this struggle is deeply influenced by closeted homosexual and transgendered individuals. Without the highest number of people actively supporting social movements such as the Add the Words campaign there is no hope that such legislation will pass. Without the incentive of safety and community to support individuals it is also unlikely that they will come forward with their sexual identity. On the flip side of that as well, legislation shows the public what acceptable behavior is.

It fascinates me to see this dynamic persevere so prevalently in todays culture, when our gay forefathers have suffered and died in order to achieve for us a relegated second class status within this country. Without the state recognizing the humanity and civil rights of the LGBTQ community, what incentive does that general population have to treat us as equals? How are we supposed to be perceived as human beings if we are consistently being denied the same rights as others within our own state? Thus, a vicious cycle begins where pioneers such as the drag queens of Stonewall create a movement for tolerance by fighting back against the oppression they have inherited after so many hundreds of thousands suffered in silence, only for the generations after them to not share their bravery and stand openly as gay individuals.

Perhaps this article is about those suffering with their choice to stay in the closet, but more then that it is a call to all of those whose cries were just whispers in the night to join the growing roar. Together we can enact change, but we can’t make the changes necessary without also exposing ourselves to the ignorance of the world around us.

Like Mike, many of the gentlemen that I spoke with had families before coming out. One was still married to his wife, terrified of the possibility that she might find out. Unlike bisexual men and women, who can feel emotional and physical validation of their sexual identity regardless of the gender of their partner, closeted homosexual men have a much higher rate of failure in this type of relationship dynamic. Gay men are not satisfied emotionally with their “straight” marriage, regardless of how much joy they get from their children.

In fact, of all the men that I spoke with who had at some point engaged in a pseudo-hetero marriage, they indicated that above the shame and fear they felt because of their hidden sexual identity they wanted to stay in the closet in order to keep their children.

The fact that such anxieties exist in 2015 is horrifying. While a valid emotional response to paternity wanting to do anything in order to keep your children safe, the fact that these men felt that they had to choose between their children and their own pursuit of happiness is sickening. That’s not including the fact that these men lived daily with the fear and stress of looking over their shoulder, making sure that their lies were being believed. Like being on stage 24/7, these men only found reprieve in the quiet moments when no one else was around.

I spoke with several men who engaged in extra-marital affairs on the “down low” in order to maintain their hetero-normative relationship. While they are not proud of these behaviors, it is nearly paralyzing for them to think of an alternative. In their mind, the blowback and destruction of the lives they care about is a worst case scenario–being openly gay would ruin them professionally or personally- they risk decimating their ability to live happy and productive lives. Being openly gay would be the worst choice they could make because everything they have built in their lives so far requires that they be normal straight men. Being gay would be the worst thing they could do in order to pursue social acceptance and validation.

I guess it’s time for that rant, because this thought pattern is so devastating and so rampant. It ties-in to so many thoughts that I find abhorrent: hetero-normative (Monogamous, male/female) relationships are the only ones that can cause satisfaction, gay life is lesser than straight life, self-respect is less important than the approval of others. The thought that “if I am straight I can have kids, I can be happy, I can’t do that if I’m gay.” While none of these thoughts are accurate, they are socially programmed into people from a young age through subtle and subversive ways. Then, when the child grows into a self-aware adult, these lingering constructs create the anxiety and fear that keeps them hiding their sexuality, what they perceive as a disease or a corruption.

Maybe that is what I took a little too personally. Regardless, I am a much more sympathetic these days, having experienced years of abuse, more than one assault, constant ignorant bullying, and a whole host of other things that this beautiful and accepting state has to offer. I don’t blame them for the fear and anxiety that controls their life. It shames me that in a society as vocal and connected as ours still requires people to hide in the shadows disguising their true selves. Sacrificing their potential for a fulfilling happiness in order to fit within the parameters of social programming can be traumatizing.

Of course, whether or not to come out is a deeply personal choice. Being gay is physio-psychologically not a choice, but making yourself known as part of our family certainly is. I cannot advocate a choice that would put any one person on a path of violence, oppression or misunderstanding. It is a deeply personal choice to stay in/come out of the closet, and not every one has the desire for their life to become a role model to so many others. It is not just a matter of being a pedestal within a community, it is a matter of being true to yourself so that it is possible to achieve all that you deserve in life with the person you love (regardless of their gender or sexual identity) standing by your side.

We do not come out in order to become the pariah, we come out so that we can walk the road with our community as a whole. With every one man that is out and openly gay, there are probably two or three that are being silent. For me, this seems unacceptable when so many more of our youth, who have the courage to come forward about their sexual identity, are being exposed to a world that their elders don’t feel safe enough to embrace as who they are. Here, we aren’t just discussing the fear and anxieties that are preexisting in the closeted population. We’re also discussing the droves of youth that are feeling the isolation and anxiety that has spurred a whole wave of teen suicides.

Mike spoke of the isolation that he felt while he was in the closet. The only thing getting him through the divorce and the pain of not seeing his children for months at a time was the community around him that felt and shared his pain. We are always stronger as a community. Supporting those who are not banner waving activists is just as important as fighting for our rights through legislation and social outreach. Without the openly gay aspect of the community, the riot of Stonewall would be in vain; however, without every closeted person at least speaking up we will never know the true extent of our community. We have a unique obligation to speak openly about who we are as people in all of our different permutations so that those who come after us can share our strength. If your coming out of the closet could save one more gay/transgendered teen from bullying, harassment, assault, or suicide, how could you justify staying in the closet?

 

Let Me Be Me

By Bonnie Davidson
Photos by Kallie Snyder-Burks – Kaperture Photography

A journey starts with one single step. This journey could have literally started with those first steps taken by a young baby. There are still many questions unanswered for those who are transgender. Why are they the way they are, how do they learn to fit in? For a local Boise family it’s been a learning curve each year, each month and each day, it takes them another step down a journey that they aren’t always ready for.

 

Tim Trantham explained that for him the transitions in his young 13-year-old daughter’s life weren’t easy. He’s been learning every day. He explained that even at a very young age, his son at the time, played with Barbie’s, wore capes and towels for dresses. He said that he thought maybe his son was gay at a very young age, but dealing with transgender issues just freaked him out. He tried to discourage his child from what was coming naturally.

“I thought I wasn’t enough, me, myself as a manly influence,” Trantham said.

He and his wife split early on and he wasn’t at home with his daughter on a daily basis. He had hopes it was just a phase that maybe his child would grow out of. He was left confused and frustrated not knowing how to deal with the issue.

Deija ‘DW’ Wiona Trantham explained that as far back as she could remember she was just a little girl. She didn’t really understand something was different until she had to go to school. She thought all girls had penises and when she started to go to school at the age of 5 she became very confused. She learned that she wasn’t going to be accepted by everyone. She wore her hair long and dressed much more feminine than the other boys. That’s when the bullying began. For her learning to accept the image in the mirror was a large challenge by itself, but the rejection of others made things harder.

“Bullying has been a big part of my life on the negative scale,” DW said. “I’ve been beaten up on a daily basis, in second third and fourth grade, living with my mom in a small town.”

Teachers always tried to encourage her to be the “right” gender. She was told she couldn’t wear girl clothes. Being so young she didn’t really know how to voice what was going on, only that she knew something wasn’t right. She was a little girl. One day a friend of the family gave her a book about being transgender. DW said it was a book that changed her life. At such a young age she was relieved to finally have a word for what she was going through. Transgender.

Living with her mom was becoming a challenge. Her mom was fighting her own demons and then she was forced to go to a school in Idaho Falls that required school uniforms. They forced her to cut off her hair, to dress like a boy and she said that she felt like she wanted to die. DW explained that she was trying to live the ideal that everyone enforced on her and that it was hard wearing a mask every day to portray that image. She felt trapped and alone.

The bullying continued on a daily basis. She said that at the age of 11, she thought about suicide often. She even had a date planned and knew how she was going to kill herself. At this point in her life her mom’s problems were overshadowing the home. She reached out, called an aunt who reached her father and Tim came back into the picture full time. He had lost his job and was looking for work. He eventually decided to take a job in Boise.

He explained that before the move to Boise, they would just keep his daughter’s condition quiet. His anxiety was high and he said that while he was injured and unable to work full time, he started to research what it meant to be transgender. He was terrified with what he found. Statistics showing the story of something he knew he didn’t want for his child.

According to a report done by the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force and the National Center for Transgender Equality, statistics of assault rates on transgender people are as high as 78 percent. According to a study done by the Williams Institute, suicide rates are as high as 45 percent for the age group of 18-24. Not a lot of information is available for those under the age of 18. Those same statistics show that often transgender people are rejected by health care workers, family and job. Many end up living in poverty and have experienced homelessness.

Looking at the research and the numbers, Tim knew that he had to change. He wanted his daughter to live. It was a hard lesson to learn. He realized that he had been wrong, that this wasn’t just a phase. He said they had to finish out the school year in Idaho Falls before they made the move. When they moved to Boise he took a completely different approach.

“When I went to the school I didn’t let things go that way, I requested a meeting with counselors, with the principal, with the vice principal and the teachers,” Tim said.

He explained to the school that his daughter was transgender, that they had issues with bullies and that she would expect to be treated equally. He said that today she carries her cell phone at all times and sometimes wears a bully cam to help. He said that the local schools in Boise have been a big help and pretty good about the situation.

From DW’s perspective, she explained that her dad would have long talks with her. He would try to figure out why she was the way she was and wouldn’t always agree with it. But one day he came home from a business trip and everything changed. She said that when he came home it was an extremely emotionally moment where she knew she was finally accepted.

It has taken time for her father and her to grow their relationship, but now they are very close. She said that her mother eventually moved to Boise as well to be closer. When they moved to Boise she went to school for the first time as a girl. No one knew that she was different until she decided to go public. Tim said that she decided to write an email about herself to the local news station. They interviewed her and she spoke out about being transgender.

DW added that she doesn’t have the type of personality to keep things bottled up. She’s very open about her life and her thoughts were that if she was more open, maybe she could help others like her. “I wanted to make a difference, I wanted to help,” she said.

The pair has gone to several local meetings, they’ve begun to attend advocacy training, and they both spoke out at the Add the Words hearing about their story. Tim said that his daughter has big dreams. She wants to be out in the public, she wants to be an actress and that she also wants to help other transgender people. He stated that she had already helped a lot of others in the town. Tim said that he’s communicating with other parents and is working hard to push their story.

Tim has been reaching out to other fathers in the community. He’ll meet them and chat with them if they’re willing. He currently works hard to provide everything that is needed. DW goes to counseling to deal with her transition, also to help with some of the hormone supplements that she may take in the future.

When talking to DW you’ll notice that not only is her gender identity unique. But she’s also much more mature for her age. She has a passion for her goals. Some of those goals are pretty lofty. Other than being vocal about being transgender, she’s also is a writer. She’s been writing a television series about mermaids. When you talk about her favorite books, her favorite movies and her favorite things to do, there are some of those normal 13-year-old activities. Things like hanging out with friends, books about mermaids and her favorite movie, “Boys Don’t Cry.” But what makes her more unique is her passion to help others.

She explained that she’s always felt a little out of place, but being open has helped. She explained that she still has some of those fears of being bullied at school. Stories about transgender people getting killed or assaulted are also on her mind. Fears that are very real. “That’s why I’m fighting my fight,” DW said. “The difference is that I have to fight for my rights.”
She said that she has hopes that one day everyone will be accepted. That everyone will have the same basic human rights. That not everyone will wake up worried about the daily beating at school. She said there’s still bullying at South Junior High in Boise, but compared to previous schools its much better. She explained that the diversity in Boise has been wonderful and they love Boise. So currently she’s going to just focus on her life, about spreading the message and on equality.

She also added that her plans are, that if one day her television show is picked up, part of it has some of that message of equality in it. She said that she’s written 30 episodes and that half the proceeds of the show would be donated to the TransKids Purple Rainbow Foundation.

“I’m just me, I’m me all the time, I just do what feels right and I’m just going to be me,” she said.

Introducing Nicole Weaver

 

My blood and my tears built the story I am about to share. My chosen name is Nicole Dawn Weaver and choosing my name was a decision that rocked me to my core. It called into question every thought, every feeling, every goal and every hope for the future that I have ever had. In the end, it shattered me and gave me a chance to rebuild on the ashes of who I used to be.
I came into this world unknowing of the pain I would begin to suffer in four and a half short years, though I am told I screamed just the same. That was the age I realized something was not right. Not only was it not right, something was seriously wrong! I wasn’t allowed to keep up with the other kids I considered my peers. I couldn’t hang out with them the same way or play with the same toys.
The problem I had was that I was born wrong. Not just randomly wrong, but very specifically I was born with the wrong physical gender. I knew the issue pretty much immediately, but was not sure how to articulate it. By the time I reached an age where I could begin to talk about it, a particular uncle came into my life and made it a living hell. He wasn’t the only one by any means, but he was the one who haunts me to this day, over 25 years after he realized he hated me.
I started reading at a very young age. I spent much of my early school years in the library, reading about my condition. Understanding my condition did not help me cope with it. I was punished by the other kids and certain adults in my life for anything I did to correct the problems I saw. At times it felt like I wasn’t even allowed to think in ways people didn’t like.
My uncle, the worst of the lot, had the rest of my family terrified. He would slam me into the wall and threaten to kill or maim me fairly regularly. It was (and still is) believed that he had murdered people before, so this truly and utterly terrified me. He struck so deep that to this day I occasionally have nightmares about him discovering what I have done in choosing my name… and coming to get me.
After years of trying, I gave up the faith I was born into because it wasn’t designed to allow me to be myself. This problem that was beyond my ability to ignore was considered so wrong and abominable that some wished to kill those like myself. I saw how people with my pain were treated. How they were driven from their families and their faiths. I saw what happens to those who step out of line, even if they simply tripped. These other people who called for love seemed to be filled only with hate.
I fought my feelings for nearly 30 years. Trying to convince myself I could live as a male, that I could somehow overcome these feelings and live a “normal” life. I just wanted to be loved and accepted, not feared and hated. The spectre of losing those things and how I saw others being treated kept me living in fear.
I was afraid that someday my friends would discover my secret and I would lose them all. I was convinced that my entire family hated people like me and would abandon me if I spoke out. I was terrified I would lose my job and everything I had worked for over something I was convinced would make it impossible to ever earn those things back.
Then something happened. One day, wounded beyond pain, utterly tired of hiding, I realized that I was thinking about my death. I had started to consider dying by my own hand to be as normal as getting breakfast. It was sad, in that I had everything that someone of my outward gender supposedly wants. I owned a nice house, a fast and fun sports car, I was blessed with an intelligent, beautiful and strongly supportive girlfriend and a group of friends the size of a small army. Yet, I was so dead inside that I couldn’t come up with a single thing I wanted to live for.
I came to a stark realization in that moment of clarity. I wanted to live. I wanted to live so much that I was willing to risk every single thing in my life, without hope of ever again getting it back, just on the hope that I could find something out there to live for. It was a risk, a scary, horrible, destructive risk that nearly broke me. I was prepared for it all to go away and to end up alone in a dark corner of an empty subway tunnel… but I would at least end my days as I felt I should have begun them, as a woman.
I had a lot of ideas, so many beliefs about what mattered in my world. I began to challenge them. First I started telling some of my closest friends in an effort to build up to the people in my life that I was most afraid of losing.
It was hard. Not only did I have to tell them, but every night I had nightmares about my uncle beating me with a pipe in my sleep. To punish me for what I was doing. I would wake up terrified, so real a dream, I was convinced that I had actually been struck and that he was hiding in the dark to hit me again.

Then something amazing began to seep into my terror filled and distraught mind. My friends still loved me. Let me say that again, the people I loved, having been told my darkest and most horrible secret; still loved me! They hugged me, they cried with me and they understood.
I was floored. I myself couldn’t understand. I was lost in a daze for the entire week as I continued to tell more and more the one secret I had never told anyone. I was doing something I had never done before, I was giving them the chance to accept me for who I really am. It was glorious! It was not without problems but, most of all, it was finally real.
My best friend grinned at me, gave me a hug and said the packaging didn’t matter. Even made a few jokes about the situation that made it a non-issue between us. I grew bold and told even more friends. Then I finally found the courage to tell my girlfriend. Her response was intensely emotional, but was as strongly supportive as I could ever have hoped for. To this day, though we are no longer together in a relationship, we are close and deeply connected friends.
Finally I had told so many people that I grew bold enough to talk to my family. I started with the uncle I had always felt closest to and worked my way up to my mom. This I had been dreading for reasons I could not define. I had felt estranged from her my whole life. Believing rather strongly she would reject me if only she knew the real me. I had convinced myself that I didn’t care how she reacted, but my sleepless nights and days of worrying showed that to be self delusion. I eventually realized that I wanted to know if she would love the real me more than anything I had ever wanted to know before.
I tried for three weeks to tell her. I visited, I made videos I recorded tapes. Nothing seemed right and everything made me afraid that “doing this wrong” would ensure her rejection. So finally I broke down and did the most cowardly thing I could. I sent her a text. I denied her the ability to hurt me in person because I was terrified she would want to.
She replied with some positive words and I cried, but I still hadn’t seen it in her eyes. Luckily she wasn’t willing to leave it at that and left work immediately for a 45 minute drive to meet me face to face. I wasn’t sure what she was going to say. I was afraid for reasons I couldn’t quite understand.
When my mom came into my house, her face was tight and her eyes wounded. Finally we talked and she started to cry. I still feared what she was feeling. I was afraid she was disappointed, that she was mad, a million half formed fears that wouldn’t hold still long enough to consider. Then she spoke through her tears and said, “I’m so sorry you were hurting alone all those years.” Then we cried together.
You see, the mistake I had made my entire life was the most basic one I could make. I had refused to give anyone the chance to care about the real me, to love the real me. I spent my life reinforcing a lie; because I was afraid my truth would leave me lost and alone. I was wrong.
I would have been just as wrong if I had been rejected. Because I deserve to be loved for who I am. It is a fundamental injustice to allow others to suppress who I am because they feel I should be something else. I was wrong because my friends deserve to be given the choice to rise to the occasion. Most of all I was wrong, because I deserve to be authentic in my life, regardless of anyone else’s feelings.
If I had been rejected, hurt, pushed away; then it would be clear that I was not among friends. This would have been deeply painful and I can only begin to imagine how it would have felt. I had intense nightmares of this happening. It would have also been a clear sign that I was among people who did not care about me. It would have shown me it was time to expand into a bigger (and scarier) world and find my people, the ones who would love me for who I am. If they care, they will love us for being ourselves, not hate us for living to standards different than their own.
This path I have walked has been harder than anything else I have ever done. It has been lubricated with blood and tears and pain the likes of which I could never have imagined. Every painful step has increased the realization that my life is finally on the right path. Every tear reinforces my reality. Every drop of blood is a sign of the battle I am winning.
It has also been filled with victories like when I walked alone into Victoria’s Secrets and had my first bra fitting. I braved the looks and whispers and small little laughs, and I did my best to stand proud while I did it. My victory came when the store clerk was welcoming and proud. She was helpful and kind and made sure I felt safe, no matter what anyone else said. It brought tears to my eyes.
The thing is, the pain I had experienced for so long was partly my own doing. All the hurting was in my own mind as I came face to face with my own illusions. It was never about anyone outside of myself. I was the one who took their words and actions and allowed them to live inside of me, allowed them to hurt me for so many years. I allowed them to control my actions and my very thoughts.
Soon after starting counseling I realized that my biggest problems were not from my Gender Dysphoria. I had spent all those years convinced being the wrong gender was the core of all my pain. I was wrong in that my problems came from the very real abuse I suffered. It also came from the lies and self deceptions I adopted to ignore what I should never have tried to ignore. My identity. It is true I was too young and afraid to find the right way to deal with things on my own, but I was old enough to give others a chance to help me find my way.
Once I realized this, my path became infinitely clearer. Though sadly, it did not become easier. I am still extremely sensitive. I have frightening dreams. I have fears, both real and imagined that give me panic attacks and leave me exhausted in tears. Except now something is different. Despite how hard it is some days, I can see a future.
I found the strength to stand up for myself and a reason to keep going. I am a woman and my name is Nicole. This most basic of statements encompasses the bedrock of my sense of self, this concept of the real me. With this firm foundation, I am strong enough to bear all the challenges before me.
Thank you for sharing a small piece of my journey with me. It will be worth the tears of retelling it if it helps even one of you understand that you can be loved for who you are. Even if you feel like no one cares, understand that I love you… and I am not alone in doing so.
Please, if you feel lost and alone, hurt beyond measure, remember those who hurt you can only isolate you if you let them. The world is wider than their narrow understandings and you deserve to be yourself. It is as basic and necessary as oxygen, and we all wither away without it.

Be yourself and fly free!

-Nicole-

Am I The Same Person?

by Dianne Piggott

At the lively dinner table the other evening, our far ranging discussion gave me the opportunity to ask a longtime family friend a simple, yet deeply profound, question. I asked him, “Am I the same person I used to be?”We may all ask this question and we may all hope for an honest answer. As we go through life we change. Sometimes dramatically and sometimes subtly. We know that our bodies physically renew, rebuild and repair at such a rate that we are “new” roughly every seven years. Our thinking changes as our experiences shape our consciousness. Traumatic events can mold us and teach us. The physical connections in our brains change as we swim in our personal and shared universes. Amazingly, minute particles of energy from space whiz through us and the planet we stand on and nick away at us on a sub- atomic level. So obviously we change. But are we the same person we used to be?
For me this was not just an existential question, it was a practical one. You see, I’m a transgender woman. I was born a boy and lived bound by that seemingly unchangeable destiny for many years. It was always wrong and I knew it. I was always “other” and I knew it. The range of options opened to me just seemed to exclude any sort of remedy. Finally after half a century of this limbo I acted. I stopped being a guy. I started being a woman. I transitioned from one life to another. I told the world that I needed to make changes and that I would take the outside that had been visible and replace it with something from inside. I would make the reflection I saw in the mirror match my self-image.
So when I asked our unsuspecting dinner guest if I was the same person I used to be, it meant a bit more to me personally. Had I morphed so dramatically that I was no longer that “me” that I had carried along for so many years? I know that some people in my life have mourned through the changes while also welcoming the birth. I know that some people have been left behind, unwilling or unable to comprehend what needed to happen. And I know that some people in my life now never knew me any other way and would be deeply uncomfortable if the “old me” were to come rushing in.
I know that I remember a life that is becoming a distant wisp of memory and I embrace a life that is vibrant and immediate.
But what was our guest going to say? What was this young man who had known me for eight years going to say? Would he say that, yes, I was the same person? And what would that mean? That I had just changed my clothes and hair and name, the outsides, but that I was still the same old dude as before? Would he say that I was a totally new person and that I had killed the old one, that I had taken that life so I could lead my life? Would I still be real?
I asked him, “Am I the same person I used to be?” Without pause to consider he answered, “No.”
This was no philosophy class thought experiment for him. It was a practical question that was now asked and answered. No, I was not the same person I used to be. I admit to letting a little sigh of expectantly captured breath escape. Because I knew that this meant that the many people from “before” who have shared my adventure did it because they accepted the “old me” and they now accept the “new me.” They aren’t waiting for the previous person to come back, because he can’t. They are here with me in the present and going with me into the future.
For my part, I look at pictures of “me” from the past and I can’t help but see a subtle tinge of pathos. The smile is pinched, the eyes are tight and the lips are thin. Pictures of this new me, the one that is not the same person I used to be, are different, the smile is genuine, the eyes are bright, the lips are laughing. It is the real me that was masked inside before. The old person was a shell that finally popped open. The seed that released the plant. The chrysalis that let out the butterfly. The man that mothered a woman. I thank that old me and let him go.

Genuine Identity

 

By Kurt Perez

Who are you, really?

 

Throughout the holidays, I ponder what we give when we hand our loved ones presents. A sincere present is an extension of your love for that person. A material object is just the vehicle in which it is expressed. Contrarily, those who give or expect presents with superficial intentions aim to inflate egos, not hearts. In relationships, it is prevalent to create an identity that is not genuine. We build masks that hide our true self. We put up a façade, losing the opportunity to put in effort that a relationship entails through personal growth. This is expressed subtly through various ways: making you older or younger, taller or shorter, heavier or skinnier.

In February, we are filled with the excitement of expressing love and romance. If you are single, the pangs of solitude may urge you to seek a partner. If in a relationship, Valentine’s Day is an opportunity to display emotions and your appreciation through gifts or a nice dinner. The materialistic aspect of your relationship becomes highlighted during this time of the month and so does your identity. As you are sitting at the table at dinner or enjoying a movie with your partner, does your partner truly know you? Have you vastly exaggerated your flaws and virtues? Have you created a mask or have you presented your genuine identity?

Presenting your genuine identity lies primarily in acceptance. Acceptance of who we are is usually sought outwardly. As we encounter different people in our lives, we begin to adapt to what people consider socially acceptable. The history of the LGBT community across the globe shows the antagonistic speculations made by those who do not understand our sexual orientation. According to the American Psychological Association, sexual orientation “refers to the sex of those to whom one is sexually and romantically attracted.” This has been stigmatized as morally and even divinely wrong if you are LGBT. The constant discrimination in LGBT history reverberates till this very day. People still look at us like we are the plague and it is this very notion that makes acceptance difficult. While standing in front of that mirror, the only person looking back at you is you. Acceptance needs to come from within so that you are able to fully understand, love and care for another human being.

Inner acceptance leads to confidence while poor self-image leads to disappointment, tempting us to change when there truly is no need to change.

On September 29, 2014, Palo Alto University released an article written by Kimberly F. Balsam titled, “A Multifactor Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Positive Identity Measure” where Balsam explains that “at the most basic level, to have a positive identity is to feel good… about oneself.” Balsam mentions that it is positive identity that even “contributes to psychological good health and enhances social functioning, our flourishing.” Specifically, Balsam digs deeper and identifies that “LGB identity is an individual identity within a social context, linking individuals to others with similar experiences” which provides insight on two important facts: whether you are heterosexual or LGBT, positive and negative identity affects us all and that in order to better understand and accept ourselves we need to analyze our position in relation to those who share our community. Numerous interviews conducted in Meridian, Boise and Nampa resulted in the unanimous agreement that in order to be in a long-lasting relationship, you have to accept and love yourself. A straight couple in Nampa states that homophobia is one of the causes that LGBT men and women refuse to shed their skin and reveal their true self. A gay couple in Boise state that they have felt threatened, hated and discriminated against which caused them to hate who they truly were for many years.

The LGBT and straight community alike agree that the only way to love is by being genuine and true to yourself.

During this holiday season, before kissing your beloved or hugging your most precious friends, hug and kiss yourself first. Come back to this article a million times if you have to and remind yourself to be genuine at all times. A genuine identity will assure you that it does not matter if you are not tall, skinny, old or young enough. The best gift you can give yourself this Valentines is the courage to be yourself.

 

Small Town Gay

by Ezikiel Coy

It was almost 16 years ago that I came out to my family. It wasn’t long until the rest of the small town I lived in knew as well, which was challenging in my younger years. While the bullying and homophobia I endured was challenging, I have taken the time to reflect on those experiences and attempt to understand what the silver lining on that dark cloud could be.

I remember my best friend at the time confronting me while I was walking home from work one summer day. We hadn’t spoken in almost a full year since he found out that the small town rumor mill got it right (for once). After a bit of verbal assault, and an attempt to run me over with an ATV, I flew home feeling more isolated and alone than ever.

It was another 4 years from that moment that I had the confidence to make any long term friends; let alone have the self-assuredness to build any lasting romantic relationships. I felt utterly crushed because of the amount of rejection that growing up surrounded by all that negativity instilled in me.

Then, something amazing happened. I realized while speaking with other members of the gay community that my experience wasn’t the only one. Adversity is something that binds us all together. It is a sad fact that many of us share a history of being assaulted, abused,
Degraded, and generally misunderstood for being gay.

We have had corporations like Chick-Fil-A, Hobby Lobby, and various religious and political groups hurt us with their rhetoric and their defamation. Yet, we are not broken. We have shown the world our solidarity through Pride, the Add the Words campaign. Having local businesses support our causes, and by standing together with friends, allies, family, and each other is so much more important to creating the environment and security that our community needs. This indelible spirit is what guides our community to be open, accepting, and free of bias. It is more important than ever on the new frontiers of our civil rights movement to come together.

Humans are only mortal, and we make mistakes. This was a revelation that I had at the startling age of “young,” when I realized that the homophobia I grew up with in a small town of Idaho was external to me. It made me feel… things. Many of the emotions I was processing at the time I am sure you all have had.

Depression, rejection, outrage, it made me feel singled out, cold, humiliated, and lower than trash. Thanks to a welcoming community with new found sense of self and purpose, my life has turned around in a way that so many young men and women need in order to survive these trying times.

 

 

Need Advice? Ezikiel is also a professional Tarot reader, Spiritual Healer, and Priest, and is OutBoise’s resident Advice columnist.

email him at advice@outboise.com

All You Need Is Love: A personal look at Marriage Equality

By: Jennifer Palumbo

Most of us have a basic understanding of what the definition of marriage equality or at least what it is supposed to mean. I found a couple of different variations of how marriage is defined, one being “the legally or formally recognized union as partners in a relationship”, and from another “a combination or mixture of two or more elements”.

Wikipedia states marriage is “a socially or ritually recognized union or legal contract between spouses that establishes rights and obligations between them, between them and their children, and between them and their in-laws. The definition of marriage varies according to different cultures, but it is principally an institution in which interpersonal relationships, usually sexual, are acknowledged. In some cultures, marriage is recommended or considered to be compulsory before pursuing any sexual activity. When defined broadly, marriage is considered a cultural universal”.

Equality is defined as “the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities. Seems easy enough to understand. What is not so easy, seems to be gathering the masses to consent as to whom equality should be bestowed.

When de-constructing the meanings of each word, there is such cohesiveness between the two that I am baffled anyone could argue this is not only a basic right as an American, but a basic right of all human beings. Oh, how proud I was to watch as my brothers and sisters sang, after being told they would have to wait even longer to legally reveal their commitment to their partners, and all they could do was join their voices in song singing “All you need is Love”.

I wish we lived in a world where that was true. We wouldn’t be fighting in the wars, choosing between whether or not to feed hungry children or providing housing for families in need. If love were all it took, we would be evolved in a way that seems unattainable at the moment. But what we can do is take a look at how far we have come. Just 20 days ago, Idaho could be counted as one of the numerous states listed in the undeniable, constitutional injustice of telling me who I could or could not call my wife.

Now I don’t want to be accused of not looking at both sides of things. Anyone who knows me can tell you I am diligent in finding out as much information as possible to ensure a good conversation can be had.

I listen to people, who have their right to opinion, just as much as we do, say their god, or state constitution, or even popular vote, state a marriage can only exist between a man and a woman. Usually, my first question to them is if they feel love in their own relationship. Next, do they adore their children and want only the best for them.

Do they feel pride in holding the hand of their betrothed in public. How important is it to them to enjoy the liberty of filing joint State and Federal taxes each year. Are they planning to be interned next to their chosen partner for whatever afterlife they believe in.

And lastly, is their love diminished in any way because of someone or group of individuals who might not agree that they are together, whether that is a parent, social demographic, or because their ideals are not traditional. I can tell you, conversations usually last seconds or hours. No matter how you define what is “acceptable”, there are no boundaries when it comes to expressing and receiving love.

Now I have to admit an advantage in these conversations. Most people (not you folks with infallible gay-dar) look at me and assume I am straight. I am not butch, I am not fem, just an average chick. No extra makeup or fancy clothes.

Always been average in most ways. If one were to take the time to spend more than 10 minutes in dialogue, they will realize that I am irrefutably gay. I sport a little rainbow bracelet and will mention my partner within that 10 minute conversation. Not because I need you to know I am gay. Not because I am in this “let’s try it and see if it sticks” phase. It is because I am a proud and loud lesbian and I really don’t have time for your bulls**t if you won’t take the time to listen to mine.

I am here to love and to be loved. I will help you in any way I can. Especially if it is to open your mind to ideas and kindness. I don’t judge you, so don’t you dare judge me. And if your god is telling you to, well mine won’t. So let’s talk when you are ready. OK, I am way off the subject at hand.

I guess what I am getting at by letting you into who I am a bit, is to say that the face of love is ambiguous. Marriage equality isn’t anything but an inevitable step in evolution. Women continue to close the gap in gender inequalities. Race has become a protected right (which our family is fighting the good fight and I have no doubt the Words will be added in the near future). Our planet and her limited resources are being studied like never before.

These things were once thought of as potential ideas that may never come to fruition. And here we are, after less than a month, turning the statistics on their heels and the number of states recognizing the unification of two individuals, legal. Oh, we still have so much work to do. If only for our siblings that reside in states that continue to resist the inevitable.

Their time will come and with love, perseverance, strength, and the knowledge that love endures all things, they too will have one of the most basic human rights bestowed upon them…“the legally or formally recognized union as partners in a relationship and the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities’. It really is fact…all you need is love….