Foreword
If you all had my phone number, most of you would feel ignored after texting me “wya?” For those unfamiliar with text speak, that translates to “where are you at?” Ghosted, as most of us would say and even my own family would have to agree.
Yet, here I am. I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that I have let this part of our online identity accumulate some (a lot of) cobwebs. I have often stared at blank pages thinking of what to write that would even resonate with those of you who read this, which, I would also be remiss not to be grateful of. The fact that you are here, reading this, taking some time out of anything else that you may have going on is truly something I will always be appreciative and thankful for.
There is a lot that has happened and changed in the last almost 3 years of my life—from the very traumatic death of our pet, to friends and family that have come and gone and everything in between, I have mostly been quiet (compared to my usually boisterous self) meditating, contemplating, growing, and doing all of the messy human things.
I also remember that I asked you all to send letters our way, some with questions, others telling us your stories, and others just dropping in to say hello. I’ve read all of them and, again, feel incredibly grateful that some of you felt moved to share a piece of your lives with us. I never felt quite ready to answer any queries or write since my headspace was very much clouded by whatever I was going through—but now I am here. I realize some of these submissions are now dated and may no longer be relevant to the person who originally submitted it but I still plan to reply to those, since they may hold relevance to a new audience.
I went back into the archives and I plan to start replying to these little by little—amongst other ramblings that come into my mind—in hopes that anyone that does read this knows that they are not alone, God knows I can only relate. That being said, thank you for your patience, for helping me dust off the cobwebs, and for helping us rebuild this small part of our kingdom that has long gone without care.
With that out of the way, the first submission comes from Erick. I’ve redacted some pieces of this for flow and for it to be a bit easier to read while still keeping the essence and structure of the original submission:
Hi, my name is Erick, I'm 26 years old and I'm from Brazil. First, I'm sorry about my English. I'm still learning the language so there will be a lot of spelling mistakes here. I come from an extremely religious and Christian family so it took me so many years to come out. I didn't get to know my father. He abandoned my mother when she was pregnant, so I always had a lot of pressure to be "perfect.” My mother had to raise two children alone and worked 2 jobs, so I couldn't bring more problems. I had to have top grades, be a good christian, couldn't drink or smoke, let alone be gay. At 16 years old I was already working as a mechanic to help pay the house bills and was a youth leader at church, I was always attracted to boys but I couldn't express it and I felt dirty and wrong about it because of religion, it was exhausting and painful to live that way, i hated myself, hated what i felt, hated who I was, hated what I saw in the mirror. I felt strong stomach pains whenever I went to sleep—one day I woke up spitting blood and went to a hospital and at the age of 19 I was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, I remember not having the courage to go into the house to tell me mother that I had become a problem, treatment, medicine, surgery, we had no money for that. And a part of me felt that I deserved that it was my divine punishment for being gay, that it was my punishment for being who I was and feeling what I felt. After three years of treatment and two surgeries I was cured, but stuck with medications that I will take for my whole life, as if it were a reminder that I couldn't get out of line. I really tried not to be gay, obviously I [felt] I couldn’t be. Once, at a party, I was hidden away [with a guy] and they took a picture of me kissing him—the other day this picture was already on my mom's cell phone and she really surprised me, she didn't judge me, didn’t assault me, accepted me with a love and understanding that I never expected. I remember her saying “here at home you are safe, I'm afraid of what they can do to you on the street.” In my country it is very difficult (and dangerous) to be gay, although Brazil does not have a policy against gays, the population itself is extremely homophobic and conservative, and no wonder it is one of the countries that kills the most homosexuals and transsexuals in the world. This is a small part of my story and I wanted to share it with you. The video of Dan talking about coming out shook me a lot and I cried a lot watching it. Your work is amazing, you are amazing people.
Dear Erick,
First off, in this kingdom we don’t apologize for being bilingual. In fact, thank you so much for writing such a detailed letter in a second language—few people know how much effort that takes 😉
I think I can speak for any queer person who grew up in a religious household that our experiences—and the trauma that accompanies it—serves as a testament to the resilience that we show in the face of adversity and ostracism. We represent a unique, beautiful tale in the story of humanity. We weave sorrows into strengths, black and white into a spectrum of color, rejection into inclusion, and you my friend, epitomize this.
“God’s Divine Punishment” is something we’re fed by religion to keep us in line with the narrative that anything bad that happens to us is because God is angry at us. This is especially conflicting to queer people, because we’re told to “get rid of” or “choose not to be” who we are. We think any misfortune in life comes about because we are the picture of sin, we constantly see ourselves in a negative light, punish ourselves, and beat our own selves down to comply with the laws a man and the religion they subscribe to (read: not God) are preaching.
Countless stories from those subjected to religious ideologies from when they were very young overlap at this exact point—we try to “pray the gay away.” We plead, we mourn, we reject ourselves daily in an effort to become who our close communities want us to be. That rejection grows into self-loathing, into contempt against the person in the mirror, we lash out at ourselves thinking God must not love us, because if He did, He would’ve taken this away already. We then start thinking we’re not worth loving and/or we ourselves don’t actually learn how to love and hold healthy, stable relationships of any kind with other people. Unhealthy coping mechanisms slowly take root in our brain until our own body starts rejecting us.
It is very important to note here that there have been countless studies about the link between what we think and feel and our physiology. Mounting evidence confirms that our bodies react to the state of our mind, the thoughts we feed, and the emotions we feel. For example, it has been found that victims of trauma and abuse display gastrointestinal issues (van Tilburg, n.d.) (Lee et al., n.d.) and it seems that sexual trauma plays a special role in doing this. This is not limited to gastrointestinal symptoms, however. Trauma expresses itself as illness in countless ways, but religious leaders would rather have you believe it is God punishing you for not being straight.
It is also key to understand that the accumulation of all of that trauma then feeds how we react to the world as adults. The unhealthy coping mechanisms I mentioned? Those become ingrained and we have to actively work to uproot them to create healthy habits—this is where psychotherapy, meditation, exercise, and focusing on your passions help a lot. I would be lying if I said this wasn’t a lot of work but it is worth it—this type of work is the one that helps you in the long run. I’m still in the midst of working through traumas I suppressed and how they have affected my relationships and I still have a lot of work to do, but it has been fulfilling!
As for religion? I no longer subscribe to it. I believe that God doesn’t need a man/woman to speak to me or do His work in my life. I believe if He is the God I was taught about, He loves me no matter what—and no, not at a distance or “most” of me or only if I ask for constant forgiveness. I have friends who have let go of the idea of “God” altogether. Christianity alone has seven major denominations and each of those have so many sub-denominations that it is an example of how multiple men chose to cherry-pick what they believed in and form their own belief system and spread it. The underlying message between all of those? Love. But even then, as you have experienced, man has warped that love to be selective and exclusive.
Ultimately, that decision is up to you and whatever is healthiest for you. You are loved, accepted, and embraced by a community who has many members that share similar experiences. I am also very happy that your mother embraced you, cherish that.
Once more, for good measure: You are loved and you are not alone. You are wonderful as you are. Being queer is one of the biggest blessings and I hope you embrace that little by little. Sending my biggest virtual hug to Brazil.
All my love,
Little King Dan 💙
References
Lee, H.-F., Liu, P.-Y., Wang, Y.-P., & Tsai, C.-F. (n.d.). Sexual Abuse Is Associated With an Abnormal Psychological Profile and Sleep Difficulty in Patients With Irritable Bowel Syndrome in Taiwan. Journal of Neurogastroenterology and Motility. Retrieved July 7, 2023, from https://www.jnmjournal.org/journal/view.html?doi=10.5056/jnm17004
van Tilburg, M. (n.d.). Unexplained Gastrointestinal Symptoms After Abuse in a Prospective Study of Children at Risk for Abuse and Neglect. NCBI. Retrieved July 7, 2023, from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2834720/