I Was A Glass Between Me And Everybody Else Around Me

That was who I was. That was what I was known for, and there was no changing it. That’s why when my mom told me that we were moving to Louisiana, I was thrilled. It was my one chance to alter my identity, not to mention start fresh. I could finally fit in with everyone else and be normal. Because of the move, I’ve landed in the position I’m in now. Out of all the students I could’ve associated myself with, I decided to sit at a table with the ‘rebellious’ kids. I knew in my gut that it was a bad decision, but what other choice did I have? My broken and insecure self had to sit with people who I knew would be considered cool. I was a cloudy sky on a rainy day, and it was time for my sun to come

A few months later a friend came out to our group as bisexual, then later pansexual and she started attending the school's weekly GSA meetings. That little coming out started a spark in my mind, and everything started to make a lot of sense. Maybe there was more to life than just straight or gay, more ways a person could be.

Since coming to America, I have moved to an ample amount of places because my father’s job concerns. I changed school frequently and in each new school I was never greeted with a warm welcome. With one glance my classmates saw I was different from them. I was often bullied and teased because of my racial difference from my classmates, from these experiences I became a quiet and docile girl. This way I thought I would not get in anyone’s way. I had closed up in the world in front of me; I never expressed my own opinions and always agreed with the majority. However secretly inside of me, I was frustrated not being able to express myself and yet I was unable to change. I craved to be what I was in the inside to be on the outside. Still by

My intent was to not flaunt it, but I wanted to be open and truthful fully with my friends and family. It is very hard to come to terms about this huge decision. I remember on a hot and humid Monday morning I decided to tell my best friend. The air was fresh with a small hint of blooming flowers. I pulled up to my friends house in my car, and she was waiting outside on the front-step. I remember the bird were chirping, and there were many lingering sounds of bugs in the distance. I got out of my car and I could sense the feeling of eagerness. With the help of my gut I finally spit out the words to her that I was gay, and she accepted me whole-heartedly. The feeling felt so amazing, like thousands of butterflies escaped m stomach at once. The reason why I was very scared to tell her was because I thought she was against the whole ordeal of being gay. I feel like overcoming that fear of losing a best friend is just a hard decision because you want to be real and upfront with them. With this certain situation I felt like a triumph that I made was conquering my worst fear of not being fully honest with a person. I hate having white lies and making up certain parts of a story to impress someone. Having this mindset led me to achieve the ultimate goal of coming out to

For the next two years I struggled with the concept that I might actually be gay. By junior I was certain that I was in fact all the things that I was called in middle school, but because of the negative memories I decided it was a secret that I was better of keeping to myself. That was until the spring semester of my senior year in high school when I decided that I was going to live my life the way I wanted to. I would no longer allow people to scare me into being anything other then what I wanted to be I would live my life openly and honestly. On the evening of February 16, 2014 I came out as Gay on literally every social media platform I owned. The following morning, to my surprise, my classmates for the most part greeted me with open arms. As I walked from class to class I received a staggering amount of compliments and support. I was quite frankly overwhelmed when I did get a negative comment and a dozen people rushed to my

Due to my environment, as an adolescent I longed for acceptance in a society where I didn’t feel free. I used my mental capacity to place me in

I despised myself for being different. All I ever wanted was to fit in, but I couldn't even do that... Because in my mind it would taunt me constantly, just saying I'm worthless and everyone thinks I'm weird or ugly, a show-off... It just seemed to never end. All this feeling caused was poison to relationships with friends and family, low self-esteem, isolation, shyness, and mumbling and simply not enjoying life as a kid. Even though after years of going through therapy and fighting with my parents a lot and having to grow up too soon. It felt as if I were being trapped in a bird cage while the outside's beauty just mocked you, while you're just cooped up in misery and desperately wanting to fly away. Majority time I always had this current state of mind thinking of just wanting to fade away from this world and not looking back and wondering if people would even notice when I'm gone.Rather than allowing this awful depression to spiral my life out of control, I decided that I was not going to let it get in the way of my goals for the future. The decision I made 4 years ago to start appreciating life still remains today and my outlook has changed on the whole situation

When I was seven years old, my mother died of a drug overdose and my father went to prison for nine months. I always lived with my grandma and grandpa and they pushed me to excel in everything I did. They pushed me because they knew I began to comprehend that I was living in a drug filled house and community. They wanted more for me. When I was nine years old, my dad also died of a drug overdose. I was devastated. I felt like an orphan and I felt like an outcast. From then on, people in my community had awful opinions about myself, as well as my family. I made a pact that I was going to push past everyone's preconceived expectations for me and be the absolute best version of myself. As the years went on, I started to revolve my life around

But the rest of the world doesn’t seem to understand either. Everywhere I go it seems as though someone has focussed the brightest spotlight onto my every movement, highlighting every fear and insecurity. Everything about me has changed except my physical appearance. My beliefs. My values. My virtues. My dreams. Yet how can it not be as painfully obvious to everyone as it is to me? How can they possibly not see how drastically I’ve changed? That I’m desperately trying to make sense of a confusing world that I thought I had figured out? But they don’t see that. To them I’m no more than an identical replica to any other football jock. That I’m too wound up in nothing but my own selfish life to be able to maintain a conversation, that I bluffed my way through high school and now struggle to form a sentence. That I’m an exact match to the stereotype despised by so many. But all I want is one person. One person to prove to me that

Simply put, what you are, what you try to be, and what other make you out to be are all very different things; and it was when my family moved to North Carolina that really started it all. About eight years ago I was ripped out of my cozy, loving home here in rainy Washington State and dropped into the desert prison what was Fayetteville, North Carolina. The pieces of my life, now lay shattered at my feet and I had to choose: Be the immigrant to the new culture that surrounded me or keep the knuckle white death grip on everything that I loved about home. So I picked them up and tried rearranging them to something new; keyword- tried. School had started a few weeks earlier (really it was only three) and I was the new kid. Walking down the hall that would lead me to my new class, new friends and a new life, I was met with many faces, all staring right at me, not one like my own, not one happy. It was then that my dreams of being a part of this new place, a puzzle piece that helped make this place, started to dim and fade. Not one person would talk to me, not one would smile and welcome me to school. In the weeks that followed I had very few friends; the boys would pick on me and call me names; when I sat down they moved their chair away or leave entirely. Everything I did and said, hated or, worse, laughed at. I was forced into a role that I never wanted, the exile; and no matter how hard I tried I would always

Dad suggested that I write you instead of talking to you over the phone, so I’m somewhat begrudgingly listening to him. As I’ve learned, there really isn’t a good place to start, so here it goes. I’m gay. There it is, I said it. I am romantically and sexually attracted to men instead of women. Around 13, I thought it was just a phase that I would grow out of, and I didn’t really process it much, but as time went on it just became more and more apparent that I was NOT going to “just grow out of it”. I started hating myself more and more, thinking that if I had more willpower, more faith, if I prayed harder that I could change. I thought I was broken, and my health reflected this. I started throwing up regularly, especially when I was stressed.

Ever since third grade, I was different from the other kids in the classroom. The other kids always teased me and called me names like, “Nerd!”, and “Smarty-pants” because I was the youngest one in the grade. This torment continued to haunt me through all the schools that I went to. In school, I was anti-social because of my gap that separated me from my peers. This seemed like a barrier that I couldn’t face, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it if I wasn’t determined, or if I had great friends that helped me along the way.

Ever since I can remember, I have always been the odd one out; or at least it always felt like I was in my own distinct universe. All the way until my Freshman year of High School, very little, with the exception of school, had my even remote interest. While other children my age would pass the day playing sports, or having a social life, I would shy away from all forms of interaction. However, it is not that I did not want attention, it was just that I did not see the point in focusing on something other than the important things in life. It would be years later in my first year of high school that I learned the importance of all aspects of life, from academics to social interactions. Regardless of how long it took for me to figure out my place in this world, my quest to reveal my true identity has only just

Ever since I was a boy I always had the desire to be different. I didn’t want to fit in. I wanted to stand out. This all started when I was born in the a very town in India. I was there for a little bit. I was born in a family of a hard working mother and drug addict father who I can’t even remember. My family didn’t accept me because my parents weren’t married. I was always compared to my cousins I lived with. Even though I was better then them in every way, my family of snakes still looked me like I haven’t done enough or just not good enough. I was still a kid when they started to tell me that I would be just like my dad. They put so much effort into criticising me. I personally thought it was really funny. Every time anyone would say

I was alone. I was lost. I had no one. Literally everyone at school hated me. I always got hated no matter what I did. I had absolutely no self-confidence whatsoever. I hated myself. When I was alone my thoughts would kill me, because the comments people blurted out actually hurt me. No one understood me, and anyone I would try to talk to would tell me to stop complaining because I have much better than the kids in Africa, and I didn’t want to be a burden so I bottled it all up. Suddenly I started losing interest in things that I used to love. I was miserable…