I’m really sick of hiding who I am

I’m currently in my first year of engineering, which one doesn’t really matter; and it would make me feel better if whoever was reading this didn’t know. Before I tell you my story I want you to do something for me that’ll help you better understand my situation. Pick something that’s very important to you, the thing that defines a bit of who you are, the thing that first pops into your head when someone asks you to describe yourself, now imagine going through a day without mentioning it or even hinting at it, or better yet actually spend the rest of today trying to hide it from everyone you know and love. I think most of you will find it’s not easy, now do that for the rest of your life and watch it slowly eat away at your soul, watch yourself coming up with and sustaining lie after lie when you mess up and let the secret slip a little, or when you have to lie about who you spent your weekend.

So here we are, let me set the scene for you, it’s 2 am in Waterloo, I’m crying alone in my bed but that’s not the first time that’s happened this year, or this term, or this week it’s almost become my daily tradition. It’s become part of what I do before I sleep every night: brush my teeth, make sure my phone is charging, remember how much of a terrible person I am, remember the secret you have inside you, remember that if you ever had a bad day or too much to drink you might let it slip by mistake your parents, friends, and everyone you love will know much how of a terrible person you are, think about killing yourself before crying into your pillow because someone as disgusting as yourself doesn’t even deserve to die quickly or young. No, you are going to keep going on like this, living your shitty life and hating who you are, but hey it’s been years and you’ve gotten the whole pretending things are okay down.

So, you’ve made it this far so I guess I should tell you what I’m talking about, I grew up in a culture that I can only describe as disgusting. I grew in a place where everyone told me that anyone could be forgiven no matter how grave their sin was, except of course if they were queer. I never fucking understood how you could love and know someone your entire life and forget all that the instance you find out they don’t love in the narrow tiny closed-minded way you decide was okay. Who are you to decide who and how I can love?

I didn’t always know I was queer, in fact I spent most of my life hoping to god I was straight so I wouldn’t disappoint my parents who were very outspoken about their hatred towards that community, towards me. I tried to fight it when the thoughts first started coming up, I really tried to suppress that side of me, I tried being in straight relationships but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to be the person everyone expects me to be, the person my parents want me to be. The first night I broke down in tears was my first night in residence, my parents had called me to ask how I was settling in and to check up on me and went on and on about how proud they were of me that their only offspring (not the word they used but you don’t need to know what I identify as) got into waterloo engineering. It was too much to bear, they were so happy and proud and all I was doing was being a fucking disappointment to them and everything they ever wanted.

That was also the first night I truly thought about ending it all. I went into orientation week with nothing but loathe for myself and everything I was, I was ready to drop out by the first day of class, and I don’t mean just withdrawing from school I meant withdrawing from everything. Something happened just before I got my hardhat that did not sit well with me. I was with some of the people I met in residence waiting for the photo to be taken when the chained engineering leaders came to talk with us, and one of them was carrying a pride flag. I don’t know why I was so moved by this, I’ve seen people before who were open about their sexuality and or gender identity, but something about the fact that we both were engineering students didn’t sit well with me. A part of me wanted to be them, a part of me felt sorry for them, most of me wanted to ask them how he got to where he was. What happened in his life that led them to accept who he was? I knew nothing at all about them, but I wanted to be them at that moment.

I went home after I got my hardhat convinced that I had to tell my parents about who I was, but you already know that isn’t what happened. This isn’t a fucking fairy tale where I end up changing their minds about queer people and have them accept me for who I am. No this is real life, this is the life where I spend the entire weekend planning out exactly what I was going to say to them and how I would answer their every question and have a counter argument for anything they could throw at me. Sunday night rolls around, I pick up my phone to call them and remember that this is all an illusion. Nothing that happened that week was real, orientation was fun but it was a dream, I’m going to classes tomorrow and real life is going to start again. I put my phone down and head to bed, this is my life now, nothing has changed because I saw someone carrying a flag.

So here we are, a bottle of wine into this story and it’s already maybe the worst thing I’ve even written. So where are we now? Nowhere, nothing has changed at all, I’m still going to write my last midterm of hell week tomorrow, I’m still going to lie about who I love and I’m still going to be a fucking trash human being. I’m really sorry this couldn’t be an uplifting story or one that make you feel good inside but that’s just who I am, a disappointment. To anyone who is still reading this I want you to know that I’m a lesbian, you don’t know me and I don’t know you but it makes me a tiny bit happy to know that you cared enough to make it this far and that I can come out to you. If you are the person who carried the flag that fateful day, I want you to know that you filled me with hope and happiness that weekend, you were the reason I was alive those days, it was because of you I got to live in bliss, even if it was short-lived. To anyone who might be in my shoes please know you are loved and if I could I would tell you that every morning, don’t let idiots tell you who you can love or how you can love.

I’m fucking sick of who I am tonight, but I’m going to wake up tomorrow, take a shower to get the smell of alcohol off of me and put on a smile for the world. You are all truly wonder people and I wish I could love you with all my heart but sadly there isn’t much love there left.

The directors would like to thank the student who reached out and submitted this story. If any of our readers need support, please reach out to one of the contacts listed at the top of this article. UW Counselling Services and MATES Peer Support are also available to University of Waterloo students.