Babysteps

My eyes stare at J’s back as we walk down the hallway. Just a few seconds ago I was walking next to him, jokingly saying that he should go first. But it was no joke, there would’nt have been a way that I was going in that room before him. I think of last year, how I saw the posters for the group that I’m about to attend. Every time I saw the poster on the schools monitor’s my heart skipped a beat and my pace went up; the sooner I’d past by the thing, the less confronting I’d hope it would be. I’d never go there, no not me. Not me.

But here I am, finally, after a long struggle I give the feelings that I put away in some deep, dark place of my being a voice. I took a deep breath, filled my lungs for the last time and walk after him as we pass through the door. I take a peek over his shoulder. ‘Oh look, there already are some folks’ he notices. So do I. A guy and a girl, two of them. Or actually, two of us. I introduce myself and try to speak clearly, I hope they caught my name, but actually I don’t care. What I care about is that they know about me just as well as I know about them.

I sit down next to J and I feel like a kid that’s looking for the safety of a familiar person at their first day on a new school. We sit down there like I’ve sat next to him for so many hours, conversing endlessly about our topic. I remember the evening that I visited him, some months ago. That day I couldn’t think about anything else. My thoughts drifted away during class and I wasn’t good company to anyone. I was anxious, but prepared as I tried to lead our conversation subtle to sexuality. We discussed it, he said I probably, as a straight girl, couldn’t understand what it was like. I looked up, tried not to squint my eyes in the way I do when I’m going to say something I actually don’t want to say and told him that, actually, I understood very well what he was talking about. Since that day he’s been a wonderfull listener.

The door closes, four girls, three guys and two therapists/pastors. The ‘homosexuality and faith’ group of our Christian college. I’m anxious about what is to come, what is going to be discussed and what I will discover. It hits me that those people in the little room, more strangers than aquantainces, are all the people that can label me ‘gay’. Last night I dreamt otherwise, I dreamt that everyone knew. One way or the other my class found out. ‘Oh, you’re gay? You’re bi?’ they kept calling. I try to reply, but I can’t. Holding my hands in the air, over my ears I’m running through our school. As if that’s going to help, as if it would protect me. I woke up at 4 am, awake as can be. It was just a dream, but it made me realise how hard this will really be. Whatever path I will walk down, to whom I will come out the coming days/months/years, it will be one of the hardest things I will have to do. But first I have to get it clear for myself. What I want and who I am. I need to learn to accept myself in the process. To believe that I’m no less than my straight friends, just because I happen to be different.

My bottom lip’s trembling and I see my All Stars going up and down, up and down. We introduce ourselves to one another. My thoughts are everywhere, but foremost I think about what it means when I state my name, age and viewpoint in a few minutes. It’s a confirmation that I’m part of this, to myself more than others. The next step on the road to self acceptation is to state my name in their presence. People who understand what kind of struggle it is to fight feeling and thought. I can feel the unspoken support, to just sit next to them gives me the courage to speak out.

‘Well, I’m AC and I’ve just turned nineteen. I’m a second year…’ an error, my grammar is failing me. ‘…here at school.’ I fumble my way through some horribly constructed sentences about where I stand (I don’t know) and how I involve God in the whole thing (where is He?). And that was it. Did I do well? I don’t know what look I gave J, but he served me a warm smile under two shining eyes. I glance at my therapist, she smiles genuinely. Yes, I did do well, I couldn’t fail at this. They picked me off the ground with their warmth. I pull back my shoulders and lift my eyes from the coffeetable. This group I’m now a part of, I belong among them.