RHEA
OKLAHOMA | SERIES # 4
My life is one that has often been filled with multiple, complex identities. I consider myself both
from the city and a small town in Oklahoma. I am half latinx and half white. I am queer and nonbinary, specifically agender. My mother is from Guatemala, yet my father’s family has been in the state of Oklahoma for generations. Navigating all this has not been, and is still not, always easy. It was not easy as a kid when I did not have the words to describe myself. It was not easy in high school when I was just learning to make peace with who I am. And it is not completely easy now in college when I navigate so many spaces where I have to hide certain parts of myself.
I have been lucky in many ways, I grew up as a Unitarian Universalist and they taught me age
appropriate comprehensive sex since I was a child through a program called O.W.L (Our Whole Lives). My parents, although not perfect, are more accepting than the general Oklahoman parent and I always got the message there was nothing wrong with being gay. However, growing up in the Bible Belt leads to messages outside of my church and home that did not give that same message. I knew that being gay was generally considered bad and I did not even know how to describe how I felt about my gender. I just knew that girl was not the right word for me, but I went with it because no other options were ever presented. Yet, once I started getting more vocab and knowledge, I started learning about myself.
I had to come out three times. It took me a while to find the perfect words. The first time I came
out, I said I was bisexual. I figured it would be more accepted. My family, however, would sometimes give the impression that I had to like boys because of behavior from when I was younger. It wasn’t the right word still. The second time I came out I made a cake that said, “guess who’s gay?” and that word fit a little better. My friends and my parents got on board with it pretty quickly. It still was not the whole picture of what I am. The third time I came out was when I was 17. It came a few months after I was asked my pronouns in a group setting at a planning meeting and just saying she/her felt wrong. After we were done for the day, I went to my hotel room and cried. I eventually found the word agender and it felt like I had taken a sip of cold water after years of being dehydrated. I told one of my closest friends first, then I told my parents. It was harder than the other times, my parents had always been so accepting but they had a harder time coming to terms with this. One has done better than the other, but my other still doesn’t use my correct pronouns of they/them. Yet- I am surrounded by so many people
who love me and make room for me in my entirety.
Another thing I have been very blessed with in my life is having constant LGBTQ+ communities
since I was 13. I started in a youth group then moved on to young adult groups. I was part of a
church group as well, who was there constantly supporting me. Having and finding community has been so important to who I am. So many of my closest friends have came from being part of intentional communities. Now in college, I still participate in a young adult group that meets in the city. I am part of a co-ed service fraternity and a leftist group, and they have always made it clear that I am welcomed in my entirety. I am currently a religious studies major, hoping once I finish undergraduate I can pursue my master’s in divinity and one day become a minister in the Unitarian Universalist faith. I know in pursuing this career I will be in spaces that are intentional and will respect me in my wholeness. There have been points where I have to hide parts of who I am in classes, at work, and other places. It is not a good feeling; it feels like crawling into skin that is not mine. However, when I can walk away and go back to my communities it feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
There are some people I will never be out to. My extended family on both sides don’t know and my abuelita will never know because I will never have the right words to use in Spanish to tell her. I will never get to tell my pap on my father’s side, because he passed away when I was 12. I like to imagine that he would love me no matter what. My grandfather on my mother’s side will never know either. I won’t tell the regulars at my job, because I have to protect myself first, but God is it good to have communities who love me. It is good to walk into a room and to know that so many of them use my pronouns without question and will listen to me talk about crush’s I develop on femme presenting people. It is good to know I am loved.
I think when I first came out, or any of the times really, I needed to know I would still be so loved
by so many people who are important to me. I needed to know coming out is sometimes an everyday thing, not a singular instance. That giving up something that was never actually me will give me a freedom I never had before. That I can pursue my passions, do queer interpretations of texts, be a person called to ministry, go out with my friends, and still be so happy to be in beloved community. I move in this world with all my complexities, but even on the hardest of days I can be reminded that I have friends who try so hard to remind me I am cared for.
