I was Born... A Nerd

On September 20, 1989, my parents, brother and sister welcomed me into the world.  And everyone was happy… Except for me.  I was crying!

But, little did they know, I was not who they thought I was.  I was... a nerd.

As I grew and came to this realization, I didn’t want to be a nerd at all.  People made fun of me, called me names, like “geek” and “freak” and “weirdo.”  I tried so hard.  I tried to like sports.  And think that playing sports was what I needed to do, the right thing to do.

But I was always drawn to nerdy people.  I wanted to know more about them, what they were like, how they lived as a nerdy person.

They told me that living life as a nerd was not easy.  Many people, once they found out they were nerds, changed their opinions.  And, of course, there was the obvious fact that they couldn’t subscribe to car magazines, and were frequently denied the right to fix and make cars.

I wanted to subscribe to car magazines, and so badly wanted to fix and make cars.  But, I didn’t want to go through life as a nerd, having people continue to call me “geek” and “freak” and “weirdo.”

But I was fighting myself.  I was becoming tired, worn out and depressed.  I was denying who I was to appease everyone else’s beliefs.  I was scared to accept who I was, but worse, I was scared that people wouldn’t.

But I decided to tell my family.  Right now, it’s about two months shy of a year that I told my parents.  I told them I was a nerd.

I told mom first, and she said, “I know.”  She added that she didn’t want this life for me, but she did still and will always love me.  She was scared for my future.  “I’m scared you’ll end up like Bill Gates, or one of those kids that is absorbed in books, or gets absorbed in games.”  But she said she would be here for me, no matter what.  It made me cry – a happy cry.

Dad… was a different story.  I told him without actually saying the words, “I’m a nerd,” and his world came crashing down.  He wants a son that is a jock, who would have sports cars.  He was scared his family line would be full of nerds.

He’s come around a little since then.  I still have yet to tell my grandparents that, not only am I a nerd, but that I am in a nerdy relationship.

Even though I feel better with myself, I’m still scared sometimes.  What if I do end up like Bill Gates, or get absorbed in games, simply because I’m a nerd?

The thing that scares me the most is that I may never be able to subscribe to car magazines, or fix and make cars.  I’ve dreamed of that my whole life.

Even now, as I’ve gotten older, I’m still called “geek” and “freak” and “weirdo.”  It’s incredibly unfair.  It hurts that people look at me and only see that I’m a nerd, not the many other wonderful qualities and not-so-wonderful qualities about me.  No.  All they see is me, and to them all I am is a nerd.

Not too awful a story, eh?  Now, do the following.  Replace the following words and phrases in RED with the words and phrases in BLUE, and then read again.

A nerd, nerdy, nerds.................... gay

Geek, freak, weirdo .................... homo, faggot, fag, shit dick, filth, pervert, sinner, etc. (interchangeable.)

Sports .................... girls

Playing sports .................... sleeping with girls

Subscribe to car magazines .................... marry

Fix and make cars .................... adopt or have kids somehow

Bill Gates .................... Matthew Shepard

Is absorbed in books .................... commit suicide

Absorbed in games .................... gets murdered

A jock .................... straight

Sports cars .................... kids

Be full of nerds .................... end

Now, read again.  Like this:

On September 20, 1989, my parents, brother and sister welcomed me into the world.  And everyone was happy… Except for me.  I was crying!

But, little did they know, I was not who they thought I was.  I was... gay.

As I grew and came to this realization, I didn’t want to be gay at all.  People made fun of me, called me names, like “homo” and “faggot” and “shit dick.”  I tried so hard.  I tried to like girls.  And think that sleeping with girls was what I needed to do, the right thing to do.

But I was always drawn to gay people.  I wanted to know more about them, what they were like, how they lived as a gay person.

They told me that living life as gay was not easy.  Many people, once they found out they were gay, changed their opinions.  And, of course, there was the obvious fact that they couldn’t marry, and were frequently denied the right to adopt or have kids somehow.

I wanted to marry, and so badly wanted to adopt.  But, I didn’t want to go through life as gay, having people continue to call me “pervert” and “sinner” and “filth.”

But I was fighting myself.  I was becoming tired, worn out and depressed.  I was denying who I was to appease everyone else’s beliefs.  I was scared to accept who I was, but worse, I was scared that people wouldn’t.

But I decided to tell my family.  Right now, it’s about two months shy of a year that I told my parents.  I told them I was gay.

I told mom first, and she said, “I know.”  She added that she didn’t want this life for me, but she did still and will always love me.  She was scared for my future.  “I’m scared you’ll end up like Matthew Shepard, or one of those kids that commits suicide, or gets murdered.”  But she said she would be here for me, no matter what.  It made me cry – a happy cry.

Dad… was a different story.  I told him without actually saying the words, “I’m gay,” and his world came crashing down.  He wants a son that is straight, who would have kids.  He was scared his family line would end.

He’s come around a little since then.  I still have yet to tell my grandparents that, not only am I a gay, but that I am in a gay relationship.

Even though I feel better with myself, I’m still scared sometimes.  What if I do end up like Matthew Shepherd, or get murdered, simply because I’m gay?

The thing that scares me the most is that I can’t marry, and may never be able to adopt or have kids somehow.  I’ve dreamed of that my whole life.

Even now, as I’ve gotten older, I’m still called “sinner” and “faggot” and “pervert.”  It’s incredibly unfair.  It hurts that people look at me and only see that I’m gay, not the many other wonderful qualities and not-so-wonderful qualities about me.  No.  All they see is me, and to them all I am is gay.

Changing a few words makes all the difference, doesn’t it?