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

