National Coming Out Day!

Today is not about making people come out of the closet, today is about sharing your story (if you are comfortable doing so) and spreading knowledge on all things LGBT+. With that being said, I am willing to share my coming out story with all of you in hopes that it will provide some sort of solace or that you can take something away from it. Unfortunately, my story is a bit dramatic and long so if you don’t want to stick around for it I understand; however, I will do my best to keep it short-ish and to the point.

Taken by myself in Amsterdam, Netherlands 2016

I came out to my mother when I was 14 because she had noticed I was spending an uncomfortable amount of time with a boy from school. I came out to her... via email. Weird, right? She had emailed me first with her concern and I responded ever so boldly and told her that I wasn’t changing and there was nothing she could do about it! Her response to me was she was going to tell my dad, and this is where everything goes down hill. After he found out, he had told me that I was “sick” and that he was  going to find the best medicine for me and all the best doctors to “fix me”. As a young boy I had already been dealing with these feelings and thinking that something was wrong with me, so to hear my dad solidify these thoughts and feelings really struck a chord and made me feel even worse. Thus began the several doctors visits, physicals, and exams. To which they all told my dad I was a normal and healthy kid. *Shocking* My dad then took things a step further and found a therapist for me to go to for conversion therapy. Don’t worry, it wasn’t the shock therapy and boot camp type. It was a one on one with this older gentleman who had claimed he was once gay then turned straight and could do the same for other people. Our sessions consisted of me sitting on his couch not wanting to talk and him staring at me. What a waste of $250 an hour. On top of all this my dad would keep me up til about 2am every night in my room (I would also have to be up at 6am for school), trying to talk me out of being gay and scaring me with stories of how painful gay sex is and that kissing men is gross. He even started growing out his beard and told me he wouldn’t shave it until I was “cured of being gay”. All of this going on while I was being teased, taunted, and bullied by everyone at my high school. I was the only obvious and apparent gay kid in school because lets be honest, there’s no hiding who I am. My entire family had visited my house throughout the first few weeks of me coming out (I have a huge family) and they were all visiting to try and convince me one way or another that there’s no way I was gay. “You’re too young” “You don’t know anything” “How can you be sure?” “Something has to be wrong with you” Day in and day out these are the things I’d get from my family. None of them supported me. Through all of this you’d think I was depressed or suicidal, but somehow, someway I never had suicidal thoughts and was never really that depressed. Those things came later, but that’s for another time. Luckily for me, I had an outlet; dance. Through blood, sweat, and tears I was able to convince my dad to let me audition and join the dance team, and thank goodness he did! I joined the dance team and it was my saving grace. I think that is what really saved me. That along with my most amazing friends (you know who you are). I have the most amazing support unit within my friends, and I am so thankful for them all. Without them and dance, I don’t think I’d be here today.

Start⇒Shoroo⇒Comenzar

Do it. Just go for it. Take the plunge. 

It’s going to be scary, and it’s going to be difficult, but nothing worth having in life is always easy and pleasant. Starting something new is always terrifying, exhilarating, and crucial all at once. Without new beginnings and the threat of starting over or trying something different; life becomes bland and boring. I don’t want to know a life like that. In order to get anywhere in life, you’ve got to start somewhere, and for me it’s with this blog. For far too long I have been stagnant in certain areas of my life and it’s time to get started. Get a move on. There has been this lingering feeling of emptiness and a feeling of getting left behind. With this blog I hope to spark something or to discover something about myself, about my life, or about life in general to catapult me back on track and align me with my destiny. I’m hoping this can be the catalyst to something bigger and better than what I’ve been doing for so long. This will be a place to be completely open and honest; as mortifying as that may be, it is necessary. I can’t be the only one who has ever felt like this or has thought this to themselves. It’s hard to admit that you feel lost and like you don’t know what you’re doing with your life, but the truth is; no one knows for sure. In this space I will share my thoughts, my emotions, my life experiences, and anything else that may pop up along the way. With that being said, I hope those of you reading will engage and share your experiences and revelations with me. Because at the end of the day we are all trying to navigate through life together, whether we want to admit it or not.

Afterthought: The title of this first blog is written in three languages. First in English, second in Persian, and third in Spanish. The three languages/backgrounds/cultures that make up one human being. Me. It’s sort of an introduction to me and who I am. I am an American, I am half Persian and half Puerto Rican (among many other things but that gets too difficult and these two cultures were/are msost prominant in my life).