As I close my eyes, I take a look back on my four years of high school. I can remember so vividly my very first day of school, my first love, dances, softball games, teachers and friends. I think about everything that I've experienced and am aware that it has been what has made me who I am today. I was one of the typical teenagers except for one simple characteristic — I was homosexual. My experiences as a gay teenager are have been eventful, to say the least.

Prior to my junior year, I spent most of my time pretending to be somebody I wasn't. I denied all accounts of dating or even liking girls. I dated odd guys to make it look like I was doing the "right thing." I figured, being a varsity tennis and softball letterman, that being gay would be completely unacceptable. I hid all feelings for girls for the simple reason that I was scared of what people would do or think. I can remember nights driving home after practice constantly contemplating coming out. I couldn't. I was doomed to be a hiding homosexual for the rest of my existence.

As junior year came on full swing, I felt as though I had matured over the summer and was ready to come out to this scary, "real" world. Thanksgiving break approached and as my family hurriedly rushed around preparing for the holiday, I was preparing for something far more important, and that was telling my family that I was gay.

Family poured in, and I told my secret. You would assume that your family would support you? I was a complete opposite case. My mother was disgusted with me; she hated who I had become. It didn't matter that I was her daughter, and it didn't matter about everything that I had worked so hard to accomplish.

I can remember so vividly every mean comment my family made over the next few months. They ranged from, "If you died tomorrow, I wouldn't shed a tear," to, "You're not my daughter. My daughter would never be a faggot." As every day passed my heart broke more and more. I was rapidly falling off a mountain, and I couldn't climb back up.

At school, all of my friends had disappeared. It was just me. I was on my own. I remember ditching school just to drive as far as I could in four or five hours to escape the pain of reality that had surrounded me. I began to watch my grades fall from A's to F's and gave up on everything that had meant so much to me. I pushed away my current girlfriend and began to see and date all the kinds of girls that were wrong for me. I had become worse than that; I became depressed and worst of all, suicidal. I didn't care anymore. I dreaded home and school. I dreaded anything but being alone.

I remember nights where I would lay awake and cry. I couldn't see or find an answer and had no desire to try anymore. After about four weeks of straight depression, a good friend realized that I needed help. He told me that it was okay, and there is always a light on the other side. Fortunately, he came to me the very night that I had planned to kill myself.

I wish I could say that coming back up was better than falling down. It's not; it took weeks for me to realize that no matter what, I was a human and deserved to be treated that way. My parents were separate people, and how they felt was their opinion and not mine. I soon regained my grades and life back. It was simply because one man showed me that being gay wasn't a negative thing and that it was normal to hurt and be confused.

Not too long after, I was back playing varsity softball, and I was resolved to go to prom with a girl. It wasn't until prom night I realized what I had almost given up and that was the most important thing — my life. The man that had taken me so far approached me at prom and told me something that I had been longing to hear so much; he said he was proud of me.

I regained a strong relationship with my mother, and with time became comfortable with who and what I was. I can now honestly admit she is one of my closest friends. Sometimes life is not always as it seems, and things don't always turn out how you expect. It's up to you to bring yourself back up after you have fallen down.

I write this article not because I want you to know I'm gay. I write this article because I want you to know that it's okay to be gay. I still, to this day, think about where I was. I can remember sitting on the floor of my closet, planning out strategically how I was going to commit suicide.

That's not the answer though. Running away isn't right. Let me tell you, nobody is more important than yourself. Gay people are just as human as straight people, and they deserve just as much respect as straight people. If ever you find yourself where I was, get help! There will always be a light at the end of the road, and if you can't see that light, somebody else can.

I am so thankful for the person that I have become. I sit here and see graduation approaching and college in the fall. I see a life so young, and I realize that I have so much more living and growing to do. I hope the same for anybody who relates to this story. I hope they can sit in the same spot and be able to close their eyes and dream of so much more than just high school, first loves or even their parents. I hope that you can dream to the farthest place on the Earth and make it there so that one day you can have a story to tell.

-Return to May 2003 Issue-