kdesai710
Oct 25, 2016
Undergraduate / My homosexuality - Overcoming adversity and embracing individualism - common app essay [4]
My mother stifled a laugh, "You're not gay, honey. Do you even know what that means?"
My world had shattered. Everything I felt I had fought tirelessly for was temporarily battered down by my mother's reaction to my attempt to come out as gay. Though before that moment I had felt invincible-having overcome the adversity, alienation, and brooding loneliness that often accompanies my type of uniqueness-my mother's disapproval of my identity was suddenly my sole concern. After years of struggling to come to terms with being different, and mustering up courage while building a future for myself, I felt devastated by the one noise that for seventeen years had always brought a smile to my face: my mother's laugh.
This lapse of strength lasted a mere moment. A smile grew from ear to ear on my face and the words uttered from my mouth felt like my first: "Mom, I'm gay." Her silence didn't inflict as much fear on me as I had initially expected. Was I going to let a fear of acceptance and need to conform regulate and control my feelings and values? No. And I gave my mother no reason to feel disappointed.
Then sophomore year ended.
I had just began an exciting opportunity to shadow a renowned medical oncologist, who served as a mentor to my journey to pursue a career as a doctor. Entailing various duties and responsibilities, I spent weeks observing what it was like to be a doctor, all the while being a mere 15 year old who, at the time, barely understood how to tie his own shoes. Within two weeks I earned the respect of every doctor and healthcare employee in the building. My mother's rejection was but a distant memory, as I engaged myself in boundless curiosity. I was admired for my zealous persona at such a young age. By then the revelation had been evident: rejection was not a determining factor in my progression as an individual and for my success. I had discovered who I truly was by exploring my various passions, regardless of the criticism thrown in my direction. And, in the end, I found less value in others' opinions of my life.
After accepting the fact that rejection simply ushers one in a different direction, I began to flourish academically and socially. Through my job, I excelled enough to earn a promotion.
And yet, something was missing.
It was the confined feeling I felt encased in. The feeling merely vanished, along with the confidence and support of my parents. I felt alone, but feeling independent for once in my life had allowed my mind and body to free itself of burden. I engrossed myself in all the rigorous classes I could handle, actively worked as a tutor to strengthen the abilities of my peers, and consequently, transformed myself into an independent and open-minded individual. My homosexuality had not been the burden I had initially assumed it was. Instead, I felt empowered and inspired to accomplish and grow.
Yes, I would have absolutely cherished the idea of growing up in an open-minded and tolerant family. However, my circumstances were not idealistic, nor did I choose them. Being raised in a relatively homophobic Asian-American family, I never had the option to live the life of a stereotypical middle-class heterosexual white male. Facing the judgement of those whose opinions I value most had allowed me to expand past my bubble of solitude and reach the borders of success and independence. Instead of grieving for the heterosexual male that I had once pretended to be, I embraced my life and the opportunities that approached me. It became apparent that though others may merely view me as "that gay kid," those closest to me see a driven individual with an endless passion for learning.
My mother stifled a laugh, "You're not gay, honey. Do you even know what that means?"
My world had shattered. Everything I felt I had fought tirelessly for was temporarily battered down by my mother's reaction to my attempt to come out as gay. Though before that moment I had felt invincible-having overcome the adversity, alienation, and brooding loneliness that often accompanies my type of uniqueness-my mother's disapproval of my identity was suddenly my sole concern. After years of struggling to come to terms with being different, and mustering up courage while building a future for myself, I felt devastated by the one noise that for seventeen years had always brought a smile to my face: my mother's laugh.
This lapse of strength lasted a mere moment. A smile grew from ear to ear on my face and the words uttered from my mouth felt like my first: "Mom, I'm gay." Her silence didn't inflict as much fear on me as I had initially expected. Was I going to let a fear of acceptance and need to conform regulate and control my feelings and values? No. And I gave my mother no reason to feel disappointed.
Then sophomore year ended.
I had just began an exciting opportunity to shadow a renowned medical oncologist, who served as a mentor to my journey to pursue a career as a doctor. Entailing various duties and responsibilities, I spent weeks observing what it was like to be a doctor, all the while being a mere 15 year old who, at the time, barely understood how to tie his own shoes. Within two weeks I earned the respect of every doctor and healthcare employee in the building. My mother's rejection was but a distant memory, as I engaged myself in boundless curiosity. I was admired for my zealous persona at such a young age. By then the revelation had been evident: rejection was not a determining factor in my progression as an individual and for my success. I had discovered who I truly was by exploring my various passions, regardless of the criticism thrown in my direction. And, in the end, I found less value in others' opinions of my life.
After accepting the fact that rejection simply ushers one in a different direction, I began to flourish academically and socially. Through my job, I excelled enough to earn a promotion.
And yet, something was missing.
It was the confined feeling I felt encased in. The feeling merely vanished, along with the confidence and support of my parents. I felt alone, but feeling independent for once in my life had allowed my mind and body to free itself of burden. I engrossed myself in all the rigorous classes I could handle, actively worked as a tutor to strengthen the abilities of my peers, and consequently, transformed myself into an independent and open-minded individual. My homosexuality had not been the burden I had initially assumed it was. Instead, I felt empowered and inspired to accomplish and grow.
Yes, I would have absolutely cherished the idea of growing up in an open-minded and tolerant family. However, my circumstances were not idealistic, nor did I choose them. Being raised in a relatively homophobic Asian-American family, I never had the option to live the life of a stereotypical middle-class heterosexual white male. Facing the judgement of those whose opinions I value most had allowed me to expand past my bubble of solitude and reach the borders of success and independence. Instead of grieving for the heterosexual male that I had once pretended to be, I embraced my life and the opportunities that approached me. It became apparent that though others may merely view me as "that gay kid," those closest to me see a driven individual with an endless passion for learning.
