Following My Own Rainbow: 10 Years Later

February 20, 2012: the scariest, yet joyful moment in my life. It's hard to believe that 10 years has gone by since coming out as a gay man. While many people were excited that I had the courage to do it, others condemned me for "living in sin." I've dealt with homophobic comments since then and still face the same problem today, mainly on TikTok. I used to attend church services on Sundays with my parents as a kid, but I stopped going to church almost eight years ago. The reasons are because most Christians are hypocritical and don't practice what they preach. Also, they spread their hatred towards LGBTQ+ people: people who they personally don't know anything about, by spewing Bible verses and urging them to "turn to God." You can't claim to be a Man/Woman of God and have a pure dislike of a specific group of people who aren't bothering you or have never done anything to you. All they want is to be treated equally with dignity and respect, not as second class citizens. Why are they so invested in our lives and how does the way we live affect their marriages? Those are the two questions I would ask them. However, there are other Christians who openly support people like me. I love being who I am and will never apologize for it.

I knew that I liked the same sex, dating back to the first grade. Unfortunately, I regrettably had to hide my sexuality for almost 20 years in order to keep my parents, siblings, teachers, friends, and relatives from finding out. I grew up with Liberian parents and I'm the oldest of three children. I have a younger brother and sister. Growing up in the 90s, expressing my sexuality was taboo and I would be sent to conversion therapy, had I came out to everyone back then. I had a somewhat great childhood, but lamentably, I suffered constant physical and verbal abuse at the hands of my parents. Whether I did something wrong or not, they would be so violent that I was always afraid of them. I was abused from childhood until my early 20s. I suffered the most of it, while my siblings were hardly punished. No child should ever go through a traumatic event like that. I've been out of my parent's house since I was 22. I'm glad to have survived and quickly got away from an unsteady home life.

How am I doing today, you ask? I'm just taking it one day at a time. It's all you can do, right? Even though I was elated to escape from my toxic parents, I always remind myself to be confident and live life to the fullest. In 2020, I finally had the determination to come out to my parents in a open letter I wrote on Vocal. In that letter, I described the ways they badly treated me, including them never taking any accountability for their actions. My estranged mother and sister sent me messages on Facebook, expressing their displeasure of me posting my story and putting my own family on blast. I wasn't going to take any more threats and verbal attacks from my so-called "parents" or anyone else. I didn't take down my story on Vocal, because I wanted everyone on Facebook to see that they aren't who they claimed to be. I made the decision to cut ties with my sister for excusing my estranged parents' behavior and not calling them out on it. Soon after my birthday last November, my youngest brother messaged me on Facebook saying that they still love me. I don't believe that and never will, because if that were the case, I wouldn't have been abused left and right as a child and into adulthood. There's a difference between saying and showing that you love your child. I hardly received any "I love you's" growing up, because as I mentioned earlier, they're originally from Liberia: a country in West Africa. When you have parents who are from another country, they don't tend to say I love you to their children. They're not verbal or physical with it. Their way of showing love to them is buying them clothes, food, and keeping a roof over their heads. Most of my relatives are aware of my sexuality and are delighted that I'm embracing my true self. I've been estranged from my parents since 2011 and I'm focusing on being surrounded by people who truly love and support me.

My advice to those who are still in the closet is come out whenever you're ready. You don't need to do it during Pride Month. Take it slow and come out at the right time to your family and friends. Also, keep your social circle small, because you don't need negativity or drama in your life. If you suspect your parents are not treating you with respect, distance yourself from them as much as possible. Just because you're related to them, it doesn't mean that they really love you. Real parents are supposed to love and care about you unconditionally, not inflicting physical or verbal harm towards you. Finally, love and never be afraid to express yourself. You'll experience bigotry online and in person, but never forget who you are. Stand tall and never give up. I believe in you, because you're a champion. To the parents who aren't willing to accept their children for who they are: you don't deserve the title of parents. It's not your obligation to change your child or children and denying their existence, just because they're different from you. You should be ashamed of yourself. I write this story so that others who have experienced or currently experiencing inconceivable events as I did, would leave toxic family and others behind and be reminded that their fellow LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters are always there for them. There's a quote that I recently found online and it said, "It's not blood that makes you family. It's love."

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