Yesterday I wrote perhaps the most difficult piece I have ever written. Not in a technical sense, in that way it was pretty average, but in an emotional sense. While the reactions that I have personally experienced have been positive, they represent a small percentage of the people who actually read it. Maybe those that were going to react negatively took my comment about not caring to heart and decided to not spew their hate at me? I'm not here to talk about that. While writing the article I was full of passion and intensity. Until I got to the end where I started writing about myself. I started getting nervous. I was shaking. My fingers got stiff and it was hard to type. I began to second guess my decision and seriously considered ending the article without coming out. But I couldn't do that. I had to be honest and speak out.
So I made myself write. I forced those fear-stiffened fingers to type, and the words began to pour out. I did it. I had finally put those words and thoughts into being. Then the doubt came back. The hesitation struck again and I couldn't hit "publish". Instead, I sat there. Staring at the words I had just written, letting them burn into my retinas. The shaking came back full force, and I sat. Hand trembling over the mouse. Emotions were conflicting fighting turmoiling tormenting thundering through my mind as I sat, near frozen.
My finger went down, almost of its own volition, clicking on that horrifyingly mesmerizing "publish" button. It was up. It was live. There for the entire world to see for the rest of time.
A massive wave of relief rushed through my body, and I fell back into my chair, exhausted from the emotional chaos of moments earlier, and exhilarated by my actions.
Then I ate lunch. It was left-overs from the night before.
If I said that I wasn't fearful of people's reactions, that would be a lie. I still am afraid of what people will say or do once they read it. I tweeted about my fears, I sent texts to my friends about it. Those friends are the only ones that I have received feedback from at this point. And I'm okay with that. They are supportive. They are loving. That's what I need.
Coming out about gender, especially right now, is scary. There are so many places in the world where I would not be accepted. Where I would be jailed. Where I would be executed. Hate and misinformation flows freely, and bigots are bolder than ever from the perceived anonymity of the internet.
It is exactly for these reasons that I had to come out. If I remained silent in the face of these threats and fears, I would be aiding them. It is the same for any cause: if one remains silent in the face of oppression, one is supporting the oppression. I cannot simply stand silently by and live in secret.
That doesn't mean that I'm not scared. I am scared. But I have a responsibility, and I have the means necessary to make a stand and let my voice be heard.
So I made myself write. I forced those fear-stiffened fingers to type, and the words began to pour out. I did it. I had finally put those words and thoughts into being. Then the doubt came back. The hesitation struck again and I couldn't hit "publish". Instead, I sat there. Staring at the words I had just written, letting them burn into my retinas. The shaking came back full force, and I sat. Hand trembling over the mouse. Emotions were conflicting fighting turmoiling tormenting thundering through my mind as I sat, near frozen.
My finger went down, almost of its own volition, clicking on that horrifyingly mesmerizing "publish" button. It was up. It was live. There for the entire world to see for the rest of time.
A massive wave of relief rushed through my body, and I fell back into my chair, exhausted from the emotional chaos of moments earlier, and exhilarated by my actions.
Then I ate lunch. It was left-overs from the night before.
If I said that I wasn't fearful of people's reactions, that would be a lie. I still am afraid of what people will say or do once they read it. I tweeted about my fears, I sent texts to my friends about it. Those friends are the only ones that I have received feedback from at this point. And I'm okay with that. They are supportive. They are loving. That's what I need.
Coming out about gender, especially right now, is scary. There are so many places in the world where I would not be accepted. Where I would be jailed. Where I would be executed. Hate and misinformation flows freely, and bigots are bolder than ever from the perceived anonymity of the internet.
It is exactly for these reasons that I had to come out. If I remained silent in the face of these threats and fears, I would be aiding them. It is the same for any cause: if one remains silent in the face of oppression, one is supporting the oppression. I cannot simply stand silently by and live in secret.
That doesn't mean that I'm not scared. I am scared. But I have a responsibility, and I have the means necessary to make a stand and let my voice be heard.
No comments:
Post a Comment