Dear Diary,

I sometimes wonder how different my life would have unfolded had I come out sooner…

It was the end of my college run at UCLA and I was not out to my parents. Even after earning a transformative education in a diverse and inclusive environment, I still wasn’t ready to say anything to them. College was what I hoped to be the panacea for my doubts and fears about being gay. A place where I felt I could live outwardly what I had been feeling inwardly. I was incredibly envious of those guys who were out to their families, but I couldn’t get over the guilt of how this news could impact my family.

I was convinced my Filipino conservative Catholic immigrant parents wouldn’t agree, so I went my entire college experience not knowing what it would be like to have parents who accepted you for who you are. Shortly after graduation, I ended up taking a job at my alma mater to extend my chapter in Los Angeles. I pushed myself to live an open and colorful life, freely expressing myself how I wanted and on my terms. But after one year out of school, I felt a void growing in my heart. What I was missing was music, the very thing I used to express myself from grade school onward. In need of filling that missing piece of the puzzle, I made the decision to join an organization that would undoubtedly change my life forever. In 2009, despite an overwhelming fear my family could find out, I auditioned and made it into the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles (GMCLA).

It was in GMCLA that I gained the courage to become an activist for gay rights through music. It was there that I learned how to better embrace every part of myself. It was there that I learned that confidence is one of the sexiest traits one could possess. It was there that I gained some of the most inspirational mentors who’ve stuck with me through and through. And finally, it was there I gained the spark I needed to out myself to my family. My chorus brothers provided me energy and inspiration I had not felt in my life prior. All of this made it even harder when I decided to leave GMCLA. Because of this experience and my amazing LA chapter, I knew I could keep challenging myself and fearlessly leap into the unknown. With friends, mentors, and family to back me up, I accepted a job overseas. In the summer of 2011, I packed my bags and moved to China.

It was a tough beginning. I jumped head first into a slew of rocky transitions- living in a foreign country, grappling with a new language, adjusting to a new work environment, understanding the nuances of a different culture, and so on. There were times when I would get home exhausted and completely doubting my decision. I had long days when even going to the grocery store was a production… but it was exhilarating. I had never felt so alive! This place of organized chaos allowed me to see new angles of myself and sharpen the very values that were most important to me. At work I saw people come and go, and in a short span of time, I was the “oldest” standing member of my division. Through the challenges, I fought hard to find opportunity in each struggle and that kept me going.

Living in China as a gay man provided me new perspective and appreciation. Initially I had hoped my comfort and confidence of being out would help convince others, especially Chinese locals, to come out too. However, I was grateful to have lived with a Chinese roommate who was gay. Through him I was quickly reminded that everyone has their own cadence, just like I did at the end of college. From his eyes, I was able to play witness to how he found the delicate balance between his sexuality, his Chinese identity, and what he (truly) believed was being a good son. Inspired, I attended many local LGBT events to provide support to Chinese men and women who wanted to know more about my experience. My goal was not to convince them to come out, but instead hoped dialogue would help them arrive closer to a place that made sense for them, whether or not that ultimately meant coming out or not.

By now, I had experienced a new side of dating. While traveling around China and other countries in Asia, I could feel my chemistry changing and the forces of attraction growing ever stronger for other Asian men. This surprised me because it was a stark contrast compared to my previous dating track record at home. Advertisements, commercials, and magazines showed new kinds of leading men and women. I found that the standard of beauty and popularity in this part of the world could include someone who was my same hue and/or shared my same values. As my attraction to other Asian men grew, my self love had also begun to expand. I would return to the US with a new found confidence in who I was and a newly discovered clarity for who and what I wanted.

Before closing my chapter in China, I had become a manager at work, was in the best shape of my life, and formed a family of lifelong connections. Equipped with these new energies, I was bound for graduate school at Teachers College, Columbia University in the fall of 2014, ending a three year run in Asia. The move came with much anticipation as moving to New York meant reconnecting to a community I missed so much. Shortly after arriving to New York and a successful audition later, I found myself a new member of the New York City Gay Men’s Chorus (NYCGMC).

Last month marked my two years since moving to the US and like my arrival to China, it was also messy. My expectations of life in New York kept me off balance my first few months and it tested me in new ways. This Cali-kid had no idea what winter actually looked like. Neighborhoods and attitudes were more fragmented than what I dreamed for a city of international prowess as New York. But thanks to my graduate program and joining GAPIMNY, I was able to shake from the daze and connect with many like minded people. I experienced a new community from which to draw strength through shared identity. I discovered a new “wokeness” from grad school discussions, volunteering at GAPIMNY events, and especially from my blossoming relationship (Hi Matt!).

One of the most useful tenets I gained from graduate school was building my capacity of looking at life beyond a binary. It has sparked an innate urge to see individuals in multiple dimensions as part of groups and systems that influence beliefs and behaviors. Life demands a much more critical look to see all the different layers and perspectives in motion so I am always curious about the complexity of situations. For me, the intersection of being gay, Asian, and musical have provided a framework of who I am and how I hope to be remembered. Through this interplay of forces, I find a good way to capture the portrait of who I am. All of these chapters have helped me shed any kind of masked bravado, and motivates me to further embrace the messiness of how I got here. Grit and resilience are one of the many outcomes from this journey. Equipped with these, I use them to do good where I can. Next month when I turn 31, I humbly look back and appreciate every day that I am given, including both the triumphs and the falls.

It has been an incredible ride living in New York thus far. However, my love for New York wasn’t always there. Like with any new change, the transition takes time. Even when face down in the arena, I learned I had to rise up and keep going. By doing so, I was getting a clearer picture of who I was by connecting the dots, which only happens through reflection and looking back. I know now, I couldn’t connect the dots before because I was so focused on moving forward. In some ways, making New York home is symbolic of my own coming out. Just as people endure the everyday grind of the city, I’m reminded that we each have our own everyday gauntlets to conquer. You don’t just come out once, but many times in life and you gotta keep at it.

People come and go. Experiences happen and disappear. Memories replay and fade. It’s all part of the process. The rise and fall. The ebb and flow. You learn to work with it or get swallowed up by it. Better yet, work to thrive in it. That is what living in the city taught me, and that is why for the rest of my life I’ll always choose to be in a city. It’s a part of me as much as is being Asian, male, gay, a tenor, Filipino, an uncle, a beatboxer, or a free-styling dancing machine with a signature set of “chompers.” People say I’m pretty good at smiling and that is one of many things I hope people remember of me. Luckily I have lots of things that make me smile, for which I am grateful. I especially can’t hide my grin whenever I tell people where “home” is. I proudly say New York City because I know that says something about me.





Smiles,

Christian Tanja