11 Tips to Help You Come Out

Nothing is scarier than worrying about how someone you love (family member or friend) will react to you coming out. Saying it to yourself and to them can feel like two completely different experiences! While we cannot always control how the people around us will react to our truth, here are a few tips that will hopefully help you:

1. Find a community that will be objective and ask for sympathy

Whether it’s one person or a group of people, having someone you know you can rely on is critical to keeping healthy and happy throughout your coming out process. Pick these people wisely--they will be your shoulder to cry on when others are less than supportive. They need to have your back and actually listen to and validate all you have to say.

2. Express your feelings

Sometimes it's easier to write (or sing, or act) your feelings rather than say them. Whatever your art, use it as a vehicle to express your truest emotions. Not only will it be cathartic for you, but it also might just help someone else along the way.

Photo courtesy of Fextralife 

3. Find a safe haven

This could be anywhere, but it should feel like a safe space for you to cry (as there will be tears), write, or even just think to yourself. You’re going through a lot. Give yourself a break from the second life you may feel like you have been living. It's exhausting to not be entirely, wholeheartedly yourself. Trust me, it's exhausting to not be yourself wholeheartedly--lying or not responding to certain things your peers and family may be discussing (e.g. their crushes, significant others, etc.) Take time to be alone and recollect those thoughts we both know are swarming through your brain.

4. Talk to someone

Members of the LGBTQ+ community have a disproportionately higher rate of suicide than members of other groups. According to the US Department of Health and Human Services, LGBTQ+ youth are three times more likely to contemplate suicide and five times more likely to have attempted suicide compared to heterosexual people.

If you are at a point in your life when you feel like you might harm yourself or others, consult The Trevor Project or call a 24 hour suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255. Do not wait. Take care of yourself now.

5. Watch coming out videos

Listening to the stories of others can provide a lot of hope and inspiration as you begin your coming out journey. There are so many videos like this on Youtube and Facebook. Take courage from those who have gone before you and learn from their experiences.

6. Find an alternative place to stay in case things don't turn out so great

Sometimes, things just don’t work out. People who seem accepting may be concealing their prejudices. Have someone you trust to lean on. Don't be afraid to ask for help. And find that sweet escape in case things turn for the worst. 

Photo courtesy of Giphy

LGBTQ+ people are more likely than not to overcome social oppression and discrimination. Poor living conditions and lack of acceptance don't fall too short from the list of oppressive and discriminatory acts towards such members of this community, even among friends and family.

7. You don’t have to know what you are yet

Chances are, you don’t know what you identify as. The LGBTQ+ community is a dynamic group and it can be pretty overwhelming to find your place in it, especially with so many letters indicated by the + in LGBTQ+. Take your time! Explore and figure out your interests in your own way.

8. Wait until you are ready

No one should pressure you to come out. Only do it on your own terms.

9. Talk to a queer individual in your community

It might feel uncomfortable to confide in a complete stranger, but their life and story might be able to give you some comfort. Ask for advice, share your experiences. You may find a community of people, or even just a peer, who has gone through what you have more or less and can not only offer their guiding hand and companionship but also advice and patience. They probably had to come out as well--multiple times--so they can be your confidant and shoulder to cry on if you don't have that support.

10. Don’t expect to find love right away

It’s hard enough figuring yourself out. Immediately throwing yourself into a new relationship may not be the best bet, especially if you're still struggling to come out. Relationships can help you learn more about your identity and sexuality, but they can also be overwhelming. Communication is key: talk about your concerns when you start seeing someone new. If they're worth it, they will listen.

11. Realize that you're going to come out and even hide your identities A LOT after the first time!

There's your friends, family, extended family, classmates, co-workers, the extended connections of everyone I just mentioned. DON'T PANIC! I'm not saying this to scare you and you don't have to come out, but I promise that it gets easier over time. You casually through in your pronouns or significant other into a conversation instead of panic, but I'm not saying that it immediately gets easier after you come out the first time. It takes time, perhaps years. I still find myself hiding.

Happy Coming Out Month, friends!

The #MeToo Story I Didn't Know I Had

They touched me.

And after all of these years of me having suppressed the fact that your slithery, violating hands touched me, I have since really forgotten that they were even there to begin with. But that doesn't excuse the fact that they were here and there and there and there.

SURVIVING SUICIDE: 5 Years Later | LGBTQ+ Talks

Hello Nurds,

This week, I'm going to be talking about something pretty serious and personal to me. I was going to do Part II of the HOW I GOT INTO UCLA this week until I realized that there was something more urgent I felt I should disclose to you. 

TRIGGER WARNING

5 Years ago this past Thursday, I attempted suicide for the last time. I had thought about killing myself throughout several months of my attempts and I was finally over life. It seemed that there was no possibility of things ever getting better. 

Where do I start?

Well, I wanted to kill myself on my 14th birthday, but when things became abundantly clear that I did not want to even have another birthday and celebrate another year of hopeless life, I decided I wanted to get the job done before my birthday.

My suicidal thoughts were not concealed from my peers. Luckily, they knew because if it were not for them, I probably would not be alive today. It is because someone told the school administration what I was going to do to myself that I was restrained from harming myself. 

At the time, I was mad at whoever told the administration. Now, I'm grateful for the anonymous person, whoever he or she was. I remained in the front office after school hours and had a profound conversation with my band instructor, who sedated me from my anger. I am too grateful for this interaction between the two of us. My parents arrived, concerned, as I might imagine. How could their youngest child ever do this?At the time, I thought, Great, I'm giving them another burden, another thing to worry about. Jesus Christ, if I were dead, then I'd stop being such a disappointment to them. 

Several hours later, after police arrived, I was discharged to a hospital in Alhambra, I believe. Alhambra was probably the furthest I had been from my family at the time; this would be my last adventure, I thought. I mean, seriously, how often do you ride in a police car without the possibility of getting incarcerated?

Anyways, my parents followed suit, my sister (who was in nursing school at the time, and thus, did not have time to be distracted from her studies) eventually came while my other siblings stayed home (as it was a school night) and there were several silent exchanges between my family and me. They told me to be honest with the investigators, nurses, etc.

The fact of the matter was, I didn't want to see my parents anymore. Ugh, parents. Who needs 'em? Well, I did. Although I probably would not have wanted to admit that, I needed my parents. They fostered most of my best memories. They were always there for me and raised me and to kill myself would beyond slap away the hands that nurtured me. 

I don't claim to know what the "afterlife" is like, but I just know that if I had killed myself, there'd be a lot of lingering guilt. A part of me knew that my parents and siblings would not recover just as I know that if I somehow die right now or in the near future, they will experience a lot of anguish, turmoil, depression, and maybe anger. 

I went to a mental hospital and was obviously in the pediatric ward. It was fun and free. It didn't go without its limitations, obviously, but I had fun. I met an adolescent, now young gay man for the first time (not including my brother) and many people with very complex, technicolor issues that I was only beginning to understand more and more. In other words, I met people who do hardcore drugs for the first time, the second time of which was several weeks ago when I started at UCLA. I guess you can tell that I don't do drugs. Anyways, at the heart of this community, I was among people around my age, people of different backgrounds, people with different and immature quirks. People who almost snapped and reached the borderline, like me.

I actually did celebrate my birthday (yes, at the hospital), but it took several years to begin to appreciate birthdays and even New Years again. I was still unhappy but all I was thinking about at the time was making it in time for drumline practice Friday afternoon. I eventually went and bragged about my experience as if there was anything to brag about. 

Now that I think about it, the hospital food was 5 STARS!!!! And the movie-watching privileges were great! So many options. It was like I was on vacation from school during the school year. This is just a side-note. Carry on!

There is so much I would not have experienced, so many ups and downs (and realistically, more ups than downs than I could probably give credit for), so many people I would not have met, and yeah, a lot of disappointed. Admittedly, I'm still depressed, but thankfully, I am not suicidal. I have dreams to strive for, but I'm just not where I want to be in life, not even close, as if getting what I want validates any happiness I will feel. There remains so much disappointment I harbor and cage in something as reflective of a Golgi apparatus that stores and ships all of my emotions and feelings outward.

We look at other people and see their successes, but we don't consider what these people see in themselves, because, well, we can't. We don't know what these people are insecure about themselves or what they like and hate about themselves because these qualities, these questions we don't and shouldn't consider are non-visible, intangible, introspective. I put a smile on and gave several jolly laughs and was still suicidal. No one could have suspected me of being depressed unless they saw me on the inside or even just witnessed my interactions with my family. I was miserable; a part of me still is. But now I can distinguish between the misery then and now and I got to be honest, it was unbearably crushing. Now, it's manageable; some good days compensate for those that are less than fulfilling. 

To this day, my family still does not know all the reasons of why I was suicidal. Yes, many reasons had to do with my rapidly changing views of what it was going to mean for me to be publicly transgender and transgender in general. I will not share all of those reasons with you either as they are personal and I do not want to revisit the eating disorder, the idea of growing up male when I felt female, and the idea of not being a kid anymore. I will also not disclose how I tried killing myself. Please respect this. 

I was bullied, though that was not a factor in my suicide. If anything, with my death, I actually wanted my bullies to feel guilty, though that was it, like in 13 Reasons Why. I did not want to kill myself because I was bullied.

To think that there was a time when I was at my absolute lowest is unimaginable now when there's so much to live for, so much I've wanted to experienced, so much I will experience. Then, I didn't have any goals in life, nothing long-term. Now, I have so many goals in life that it's all so overwhelming! Five years later, and I'm happier, more fulfilled, and excited for the future! Five years later and I want to celebrate life more. Five years, half a decade. That was only a fraction of my life. I will not be able to express how much I would have missed it that was only a fraction of my life ago. 

My advice: find the resources you need to get help. Please call the Trevor hotline at (866) 488-7386 or text "Trevor" at (202) 304-1200 or simply visit The Trevor Project, reach out to your school counselors, get therapy, and please, Please, PLEASE call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255; it's an anonymous, 24/7 phone line that will get you the help that you need.

To finish this off, my roommate showed me this song regarding suicide. It's very empowering and hopefully, you find your outlet, your hope through it.

MY COMING OUT STORY | LGBTQ+ Talks

Okay, this is going to be a dense subject post; I'm just going to start off by saying that. 

TRIGGER WARNING!! 

I do discuss suicide, eating disorder, and several other subjects that you may not be comfortable reading. I want to provide a safe space to you all, but I don't want to leave anything unsaid or sugarcoat anything because this is my reality as a transgender woman and my story as a human being. But first, in order to establish a well-grounded safe space, I need you to trust me, know who I am, what I've gone through, what I am all about and hopefully you can relate, but hopefully you may never have to see anyone go through anything like I have or experience any of this yourself. I will acknowledge that I have faired in better conditions than most trans-women and trans people in general and I am fortunate for not only that but also the fact that I have survived and that I pass, while many of my trans fellows may not. 

Additionally, I have never come out, but I also come out almost on a daily basis to strangers that I meet around campus. Though I did not feel that it was necessary to reveal to my family about my transgender identity and hopefully the future generations will follow. I mean, most people don't have to come out as cisgender or straight, so I feel I didn't have to reveal that I'm transgender.

Well, here we go. 

"What are you? Where are you from?" + Song of the Month | September 2017

Hello, Nurds!!!

I wanted to address an important issue regarding identity, multi-ethnicity, and ethnic ambiguity.

What do you think of when you see me?

Lemme guess. You probably thought that I look Indian.

Here's the problem: The problem is not that I not Indian; it's more so the fact of how people ask me what my ethnicity is.

Before I include a couple of the most questions people frequently ask me, I think it's important to note the differences between ethnicity, nationality, and race.

Ethnicity refers to a localized group of peoples that share cultural traditions, beliefs, values, etc. For example, African American refers to people who are from Africa or are descendants of African immigrants that are American citizens.

Nationality refers to one's country of origin. When I say I am American, it means that I am from, well, America.

Race has a lot to do with biology and the biological characteristics that people are inherently born with. For example, Asian people are most likely born with black, straight hair among other qualities.

Where are you from?

This question is pretty vague, This question is common, too. Many people are from different parts of the world and travel about. Understandable. It's also semi-insulting to me because my appearance makes it seem that I'm somehow foreign or not from here. By here, I mean this country. I half-expect people to think me from another nation. That is not the case; I've been born and raised in Southern California. In fact, I have never left Southern California, which makes it seem all the more frustrating to hear this question. 

What are you?

I find this question especially offensive. If there is any way to ruin someone's self-esteem and de-humanize them, this is the simplest thing you could ask them. This is the question I get asked the most and even random strangers approach me, saying, "I'm sorry, I can't stop trying to figure out what you are." I'm a mystery to others, a question mark. And just because you apologize for going out of your way to ask me such a disparaging question does not make it any more appropriate to do so. I'm sure people mean well and I 100% know what about me they are referring to, but I think this question arises from ignorance, so I simply tell them "I'm human," as if assuring that I was not human before they asked me what the hell I am.

Haha, no. I mean what's your race?

This feels very true. Race and ethnicity were never
anything I saw or cared about in a person; they weren't
noticeable until people started noticing and pointing
out my differences.

I know what they mean. I do. I just proceed to tell them patiently that the way they ask them is considered impolite and that if they would like to ask for someone else's ethnicity, the should ask What do you identify as ethnically? because most of the time (even when people as for another person's race), people respond in terms of ethnicities. Or, say, Do you mind if I ask you what your ethnicity is?

But seriously, What are you???? What the hell! This question is so ambiguous, probably as ambiguous as my ethnicity, that it alienates me and makes me feel like the "other".

This is the struggle of being a minority--not only as a transgender woman born in a big, multigenerational, lower-middle class family, but also as a multi-ethnic person. And by the way, I am Hispanic, Caucasian, and African-American.

If you have any questions regarding my ethnicities or if you disagree with anything I said, feel free to let me know in the comments!

Click below for the Song of the Month