This person, who we shall keep anonymous, is someone who is very dear to my heart. This Pride Month, he takes us through the trials and tribulations of not only coming out once, but twice– first it was his sexual orientation, and second it was his gender. From being outed to his mother by another prying mother who couldn’t mind her own business and living a double life, to the inner turmoil he has to deal with when it comes to placing his existence in a religious context. Below, the one that shall not be named, bravely conveys the challenges of just trying to be yourself. Something we all take for granted.
I said this to someone at some point in my life that it’s not one coming out story. You come out forever. You’re coming out repeatedly for your entire life when you’re someone like me. But the coming out story, I guess you could say started off with me coming out as gay first. I thought it was easier to come out with my sexuality instead of my gender. None of it is simple, but I guess easier for the ears and for the eyes as well. I started with my sexual orientation. The first person I told was a girl that went to my school at the time, and I told her through a letter.
After that, it just slowly started to come out through word of mouth, or people could just tell. Then, I got outed by a mother of someone in school who called my mom and told her: “Hi, just to let you know, your child claims to be gay.” After that phone call, my mom sat me down and her reaction went as follows: “I’m a disgrace if this is true, and that it’s disgusting.”
I had a very bad coming out experience with my mother because I was outed and it didn’t actually come from me. So that was the sexuality coming out. Then there’s gender coming out— that’s a whole different story.
I first told my girlfriend at the time how I was feeling. I told her that I don’t think I’m a girl. I don’t think I ever was a girl and I think that’s why she was with me. She said she could tell, and that she knew. It was a huge relief for me, because it was the first time I said it out loud. I got the most support from her.
For a long time, it was just between her and I. Once I was sure that this is exactly who I am, this is what I want to do, and what I need to do, I told my sister. I took her for a walk around our neighborhood. When I told her she didn’t have much to say, but she said she loves me and told me she accepts me and that it’s something she has to process.
After that, I told a few of my closest friends and word kind of just spread. It’s hard for me to recall all the details of that time; I think my brain blocked out a lot of the experience and doesn’t process it to protect myself from all the trauma. But again, I come out every day, with anyone new that I meet and with any person that walks past me. I’m coming out constantly and consistently. I wish I didn’t have to, but that’s my case.
I encounter people on a daily basis, even people I’m friends with, who don’t entirely accept who I am and what I am. I’m completely okay with that, even if maybe I shouldn’t be. I’m not here to convince anyone to accept me for who I am. I’m not going to give a part of myself fighting for other people to be okay with me.
I have been living a double life. At home, I identify as a she/her, but then when I’m out, I go by he/him. Once you start living a double life, a few things happen, like you get really good at lying, which sucks. You also get really good at being hyper-aware of everyone around you and their opinions and observant of their energy.
As the person coming out, you have to be patient with the people around you, especially in the Arab world. They’re not used to this, it’s very new to them. Coming out isn’t just for the person sharing their sexual orientation and gender, but it’s also about the people they are coming out to, especially when you’re coming out as transgender. There’s grief in the coming out process, and that’s something that I spoke to my therapist about, because the person that you’re coming out to is grieving the person that they thought they knew.
Not that I’m a different person— I’m still the same, but they don’t know that yet .Maybe my vessel or the way that I portray myself is going to be a little bit different. But I’m not changing and they find that out with time.
Now, when it comes to my relationship with God and Islam, that’s when it hurts the most. This is the hardest part actually, because I was taught that it is wrong to be queer, and especially to change the gender you were assigned at birth.
But the part that scares me isn’t that “I’m going to hell.” It’s the face that God is looking at me with right now. He’s not happy with me. That’s what scares me because I don’t really sin anymore. I stopped smoking and using substances, almost as a compromise. I’m just trying to survive really and I need this to survive. I don’t think I’m hurting anyone, so I don’t think I deserve to be tormented for being myself.
My dad once told me that he thinks there’s jinn inside me. I’ve had a lot of mental issues within the past few years, like depression, anxiety, panic attacks, all these things that I’ve been getting treated for. He told me he thinks that there’s a deeper problem and that’s what’s disturbing me and causing me all these mental problems. That hit hard, especially because I do care about my faith. If I didn’t, then I don’t think that a statement like that would have affected me so much, being told there’s something wrong with me just because I’m trans and I’m never going to be mentally okay. God’s always going to punish you in some way.