This Thanksgiving season I want to do something a little different. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it is a reminder to express gratitude and gratitude is my favorite emotion to express. I believe that gratitude is not expressed often enough and I think it feels nice both to give and receive.

As important as it is to express gratitude towards others, I believe that it is just as important to express gratitude for ourselves. Expressing gratitude for oneself can often times be construed as being egotistical or narcissistic which can be true. In some cases however, I believe that honoring ourselves can be a healthy sign of confidence.

So in the spirit of displaying healthy confidence, I want to take the time to thank myself. I am a good person. I work hard. I care hard. I love hard. I have contributed a lot and have much more still to offer. I treat people with respect and try my best to be of service to others when I can. I have intentionally chosen a career dedicated to working with and for others and I am committed to creating and making change in this world.

Life is not easy. I know hardship. I know pain. I know loss and grief as well as judgement and ridicule. I have experienced days in which getting out of bed feels impossible as well as months where living has been a difficult task in and of itself. I have channeled David, while standing in the face of Goliath, summoning courage and strength where there was none. I have stumbled and fallen, made mistakes time and time again and have let those I care about down from time to time.

Although I am not perfect, I am great. Honoring and thanking myself for all that I am and have to give has taken years to understand and make practice of; but, I have learned that I am worth it. I work hard for others and I have learned to work hard for myself as well.

I am thankful for the person that I am.

The moments when you are hosting an anti-bullying day at school and the students that don't own any purple come rushing to wear purple post-its to show their solidarity.

The moment when your straight co workers suggest that you have a display case in your school for your GSA to display the work that the students are completing for all to see.

Mia

When I think about this I think of the first girlfriend I ever had. This was the only monogamous relationship I ever had. We got together when I was 14 and were together the entire time I was 15.

So I ended up meeting her through one of my other friends and at first we were just really good friends. She was Catholic and so was her family. And this was before I came out and before she had come out. So her family taught her that being gay is really really bad and that she would go to Hell for lack of words. There are a lot of gay people in my family, but the are not openly gay.

Her mom ended up finding out that we were together and her mom flipped out. Her mom wanted me dead flipped out. Her mom forbid her from ever talking to me again, took her phone and grounded her for about a month and she ended up getting sent to her grandmother's house, who is also very religious.

Her grandmother lived on the same side of town as me and her grandma hadn't met me so she didn't know who I was, so I could keep visiting her. It got to the point where I was over there all the time, all my stuff was over there and it really pissed my mom off and then her mom found out that I was going over there.  He mom flipped and her aunts flipped and her cousins flipped and her grandmother flipped. They all flipped.

But her dad was divorced from her mom and she got sent to her dad's so I went to visit her there. I'm pretty sure her dad caught us making out on the couch and he didn't say anything and just left. He didn't say anything for awhile and just ignored it which is pretty funny and interesting at the same time.

So this gets harder and harder to keep on seeing each other. For her to sneak over to my place and for me to sneak over to hers. About a year passed throughout all this time, and pretty much we started getting into a lot of trouble together, partying and doing a bunch of stupid things. We ended up getting in trouble for curfew and trespassing, a bunch of stuff. And then my mom said she couldn't come over at all, which made us both kind of rebel against both of our families.

After so much drinking and partying, our relationship became abusive where we would drink a lot and get into fights. When we were sober we would laugh about it and think it was funny. After this went on for so long, our fights got aggressive and there was a time period where we hand't seen each other for awhile and I found out she had cheated on me. So we ended up breaking up for awhile and then for awhile we were on again, off again; on again, off again. And then we finally broke up for good.  I think we both went on the rebound, like really crazy. I'm 18 and still on the rebound.

This feels like the best relationship I have ever had and the only solid relationship I have ever had. It's interesting how this relationship started out healthy and fell apart. I don't look back upon it like it was a bad relationship. I do feel like I really was genuinely in love with her though. I feel like my first love was my first heart break too. And this isn't always people's idea of love.

Looking back I realize that I needed to let go of the relationship sooner. The first year was amazing but the second year was shit. I learned to not hold onto a bad relationship and to let it go if need be.

Anonymous

So I wouldn't say that my grandparents are overtly homophobic, but they are definitely uncomfortable with the subject. I'm not sure if the issue is with homosexuality in general, or if it is because during their time this was something that was not discussed or present really. They both grew up in a time when homosexuals were closeted and few actually acted on their instinctual desires.

Since I have come out they made it clear that they love and support me, but discussing my partner and our life together has always been uncomfortable. They rarely ask questions about us and they will listen when I discuss her, but usually the conversation ends once I am done speaking. I don't think they are disappointed in me, I think it is more of an issue of not being entirely sure of what to say or how to ask about us honestly.

Over the years however, they have begun to ask more questions about us and refer to my partner by her first name. I am planning on proposing to her in the near future and I decided to break the news to my grandparents. My grandmother has collected jewelry over the years and when I mentioned that I did in fact have a ring, she started talking about how she may have a ring that could be more suited for wear when she works.

Honestly I was blown away. I was very nervous to tell my grandparents that I am planning on proposing and have a ring because these conversations are still slightly awkward. To have my grandmother offer one of her rings that I could give to my girlfriend astounded me. This was the greatest gift of acceptance that I believe I have received yet.

I personally do not believe in asking for anyone's blessing, I don't think it is anyone else's place or business, but in a way, this was my grandmother giving her blessing to me. The historical context of asking permission for marriage strikes too much of an ownership cord for me to be comfortable. Because she, on her own volition, offered to give me one of her possessions that symbolizes our union together, is the biggest tangible blessing of our relationship that I could imagine receiving.

Anonymous

I want to talk about my first girlfriend and coming out to myself. I didn’t know I was gay until after this experience. In middle school there was this girl I knew named Ashley and I realize now that I had a crush on her, but then I didn’t know I had a crush on her. She could see it but I could not see it and we had a weird relationship. We started to play basketball together, and we started to not be friends and become ‘frenemies’.

Basically how it came to be, when I was a freshman in high school, I went to three different high schools. I ended up at East and I was the new kid at East and she was there. I thought that there was no way we were going to be in the same class together and after lunch I walked into class and Mrs. Wagner introduced me and there Ashley was sitting. I was the new kid in class, and I sat down next to Carrie and we became friends. We bond over our mutual dislike of Ashley, because we were 14.

Months pass we become besties. Sophomore year starts and one day we were making fun of Ashley a lot. I knew why I was making fun of her. She was not my friend anymore. But I didn’t know Carrie’s motives. One day Carrie asked me why I didn’t like Ashley and I told her that we used to be friends and played basketball and one day she decided she didn’t like me. Carrie didn’t really believe that was true and she said, ‘I thought it was because you two hooked up.’ I said, ‘absolutely not! Why would you think that?!’ Then she said, ‘I thought you were gay?’

One thing that really sticks in my mind, when I was a child, my dad drives a semi-truck. One time he was delivering, he was a mover, there were two women, I had no idea what was going on, he was dismissive and cranky with them, I remember this in hindsight. One thing I do remember clearly, was that they gave us cookies and they gave my dad a huge tip, a couple hundred dollars, and so we were in the truck about to take off, and my dad said ‘fuck you dykes!’ This was the first time I heard him say the word ‘dyke’ and this struck me. I didn’t really understand it, but I knew he thought being gay was a bad thing.

That was something that stuck out in my brain and I am thinking to myself, I am not gay. People can’t be gay. Then it got me thinking why would she think I was gay? At the time I was a tom boy so I started to try to be more girly. I had my mom buy me skirts and dresses, which I never wore, but I tried. I never changed. I was still the same person.

I finally got the balls to ask Carrie why she thought I was gay. She said she didn’t know and then she told me that she was gay. She came out to me and I pieced this together and realized that she wasn’t out to anyone else and she thought we were both gay. This is when I realized people can be gay. They are not ‘dykes’ they are people that I liked to hang out with. This opened my mind up to the possibility that I was.

I told Carrie that it was okay and we could still be friends but that I wasn’t gay. We still hung out but I wanted to put a distance between the two of us. That proved to be hard to do what with her being my best friend. She came to me and asked me why I was being weird and I told her that I don’t like the way that I feel about you. This upset her and she told me that I didn’t know I was straight until I tried it. I think she knew we had feelings for each other even if I didn’t.

She kissed me and I didn’t run away and we basically started a relationship. That simple, who knew it could be? We kept it a complete secret however. I was terrified to tell my parents and she wasn’t ready either. We spent the rest of sophomore year completely happy in an undercover bubble. Nobody knew.

She had to move away to San Antonio. She tells me that she was going to go to a new school, start a new life and tell her parents that she was gay. I started to freak out because what did this mean for me? Her parents knew my parents and I was afraid she was going to out me. I told her I didn’t want to be with her anymore and she was going to leave anyway.

Our mutual friend, we will call her friend X, came up to me and said, that Carrie had came out to her parents. X was upset with me because we hadn’t told her and Carrie had when she left and questioned me why I hadn’t trusted her to tell her. I didn’t have an answer for her because I did trust her and she was a friend. I don’t know why I was ashamed of being gay. I couldn’t put into words what I was feeling.

I kind of know now that I was afraid of what my parents would do or walking into a locker room and having everyone say ‘that’s the gay one’. I know now this is ridiculous but in that moment it was very real. I am not ashamed of who I am anymore.

Teresa

How many of you have experienced a time in your life where you have told yourself, “No. That can’t be. I don’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it”?

Truth is subjective, and it is because of it being subjective that we can manipulate it. We can tell ourselves that something is true when it really isn’t. Many of us call this denial, and my denial was with my sexual orientation.

Middle school was something else. I have only met a handful of people who said their middle school years were care-free. Most of the time I hear that it was the worst 2-3 years of their lives and that it was wrought with struggle and pain. I don’t like looking back for the “worst years of my life,” but if I had to choose I would without a doubt say middle school.

I was in 6th grade and it seemed like every other day. I walked into music class and took my seat on the risers. There was a group of guys behind me talking about a variety of different things. Eventually the guys pulled me into their conversation and asked, “Hey JP, did you ever have a girlfriend in elementary school?”

I thought, What?! Elementary school? Why are we talking about relationships in elementary school at 11 years old?!

I responded, “Well, no, I didn’t have a girlfriend in elementary school.”

Some guys nodded and would utter small pieces of feedback like, “Oh,” and “Hmm.” But one of the guys said, “What are you, gay?”

I was stunned. Absolutely speechless. I immediately formed perceptions of homosexuality that were all negative: something to be laughed at, something that was “different” (and not in the good way), something to be ridiculed and mocked, all this and more. I went into defense mode to protect myself, and I said, “NO! No man, I’m not gay.”

I think I was telling the truth.

It wasn’t until later in middle school that I realized I was attracted to men. Many people may claim that people “become” homosexual because of a traumatic experience. I don’t agree. Was that interaction in the music room hurtful? Absolutely. But would I define it as traumatic? I don’t think so.

Once I had this “truth” about me being attracted to men, and these competing perceptions of homosexuality, it caused chaos in my heart. I decided to deny the truth so I could live a different truth: the “truth” that I was straight. I chose this because my perception of heterosexuality was much, much more positive than my perceptions of homosexuality. So I formed that barrier and told people that I was straight and rejected any claims that I was gay.

That barrier held true for 14 years. 14 years of claiming heterosexuality, claiming I was straight, and trying to contain the truth with denial.

For those 14 years I played the straight card. I had one serious girlfriend and dated a handful of other ones. I blamed my high standards and, “She just isn’t the right one,” for why my dates and relationships weren’t sticking. Every now and again - not as often as you’d think - I’d doubt my sexuality, but nothing so substantial that I freaked out.

Around 23-24 years old I started telling myself, “You cannot use women anymore. Until you figure out what is going on in your life and with your sexuality, you will not use women.”

This seems innocent enough, but on top of me making this commitment to myself, I also realized that I wasn’t quite ready to accept the truth that I was gay.

My new truth: I’m going to be single the rest of my life.

Happiness was stolen from me. I didn’t know what to do.

Finally, in 2012, I started truly thinking about and processing through my denial. Over the course of time, my denial formed a stronger and stronger voice, and I could no longer ignore it.

In January of 2013, I came out as gay...

... And I couldn’t be happier.

Denial is a very, very resilient defense mechanism. When your truth doesn’t match your perceptions, denial will step in and try to keep it under control.

What I am about to say is my own personal opinion based on my own subjective experience, so this may not apply to all people. I have come to believe that denial can be the source of all unhappiness. Do I believe that all unhappy people are struggling with denial? No. Other way around. I believe that denial truly keeps us from genuine happiness.

I denied because of fear. Fear of what would happen to me, if people would accept me, if I would lose friends, all of it. However, sacrificing my own happiness just so that I was “acceptable” in the eyes of others became too heavy of a weight for me.

My hope is that if you are struggling with denial or with your sexual orientation, help is out there. You are not the only person who has gone through what you’re going through. I encourage you to reach out and find someone who you can relate to and who can help you.

Don’t do this by yourself. You don’t need to.

JP