Wednesday, September 7, 2016 // The Statement
7B

F

or the longest time, I let myself
love a life I was never meant to
live. I’m a cradle Catholic and

regularly attended Mass at the church
my family has gone to for more than 50
years. I received sacraments through-
out childhood. I wanted my marriage
to be recognized by God in the church.
But recently, I’ve let all of these expec-
tations go because I’ve finally accepted
the fact that I’m gay.

All my life, I’ve grown up listening

to homophobic slurs, jokes, television
shows, music, propaganda, opinions,
essays, ideologies, hate groups, reli-
gions, businesses — and eventually I
just got tired of it.

Even as a little kid, I was exposed

to the world’s intolerance: When I
lived in Illinois in the third grade, one
of my new classmates told everyone I
was gay, and I ate lunch alone for the
following three weeks. I remember
hearing a classmate in middle school
jokingly talk about forming a hate
group to kill gay people. While debat-
ing social issues and LGBTQ rights in
high school, my classmates were ada-
mant that homosexuality is a chosen

“lifestyle,” and that no one is born that
way and that it is a disgusting, unnatu-
ral, perverted existence.

Though I’ve known for the longest

time — and have been in denial — I
never had the courage to give up the
life that was so easily laid out for me.
I wanted to be married in the same
church my parents and grandparents
were married in. I wanted to easily
have kids of my own. I wanted to live a
life without fear.

I’ve only recently found the strength

to accept who I am. This spring, I had
the privilege of going into the woods
of New Hampshire with a University
of Michigan program called NELP,

By Brandon Summers-Miller,
Daily Staff Reporter

I wanted my
marriage to be
recognized by

God in the church.

Straight Expectations

the New England Literature Program.
It’s an intentional community, a space
built to foster teamwork and coopera-
tion. Everyone, including the instruc-
tors, works together to sustain our
little community in the forest for 45
days. Without easy access to the rest of
the world, everyone tends to be pres-
ent.

At the beginning of my stay in New

Hampshire, I was asked why I came
to the woods, and it’s been something
I’ve been turning over in my mind ever
since. I went into the woods with no
clear objective. It is now easy for me to
see I needed the time away, the space
to think, the silence to hear, the capac-
ity to listen and the opportunity to be
kind.

The woods offered me the first time

to personally know gay people who
were out, successful and happy. For the
first time, I met gay people who were
both professionally and socially thriv-
ing in the real world. I finally found an
accurate representation of the life I’d
been avoiding out of the fear of letting
go of the one I’d let myself idealize for
too long.

And while those woods will always

be a special place for me, the idea at
the end of the program is to return.

In my case, coming back and return-

ing were two very different things.
I came back from the woods on June
17, but I finally returned sometime in
August.

Returning meant living a more delib-

erate life, being more self-reliant and
letting go of the expectations I set for
myself for as long as I can remember.
Living a lie did no one any good. No
one I knew really knew who I was,

and it was incredibly lonely. It’s only
after having seen other strong queer
people that I’ve come to terms with my
faith, my lack of representation in the
church, the way I’ll be marginalized in
society and the people who will choose
to be left behind.

Letting go sucks. It’s taken me forev-

er to realize this, but the expectations
of the ideal life I’d created in my mind
were unhealthy. There are people in
this world who will always be angered
and disappointed by the fact that I’m
gay. I don’t have to be one of them.

For the first time, I met

gay people who were

both professionally and

socially thriving in the

real world.

Photo courtesy of Brandon Summers-Miller