I was 20 years old. Attending a catholic college where I was playing basketball for, no joke, the Lady Monks. As often as she could my girlfriend would drive three hours to pick me up and drive me back to her house for the weekend. I was so in love and so desperate to see her, but as soon as I’d get in her car I’d fall asleep and sleep the entire way there. It was the only time I ever rested…when she was beside me. The rest of my life was just holding on, or holding out for the courage to lose what I was certain I’d lose if anyone figured out the truth of my heart. The first time I came out I came out to my roommate in my catholic dorm. I’d just come from a science class that was taught by a nun who, again..no joke, didn’t believe in dinosaurs. We were sitting on my bed. I didn’t say the words “gay” or “queer.” I looked at my friend and said “I gotta tell you something. I finally understand god…” It was the scariest conversation of my life. The school was so conservative. There wasn’t a single person who was out, or from what I could tell then, even queer and in the closet. And it was a time when I was certain nothing in the world would ever change. Now all these years later, it’s National Coming Out Day, and I’m sitting here, at my desk, reading an email I got a few weeks ago from my catholic college asking me to come and perform. I’ve read it maybe 20 times since I got it, and have cried almost every time. Not everything changes. But today I am so grateful for what does.
