This is in response to the Common App question "Evaluate a significant experience . . . and its impact on you." Feedback is appreciated.
"I've lived a lie for sixteen years."
That was my first thought of April 28, 2010. Strange as it may sound, it was and still is one of the most important statements I've made about myself because it took me four years to admit it.
It took me four years to admit that I was gay.
I'll start a little further back. When I was a kid, I was depressed, lonely, and nerdy. I had friends, but I was unpopular and felt shy when talking to people I didn't know very well, which was 90% of the school. There were nearly no gay kids at my middle or high school, and I didn't have anyone to talk to about what I had been feeling since puberty, so I ended up talking to myself about these newfound feelings.
Naturally, I didn't want to be anything that would make me even more unpopular, so I started denying it to myself. Hiding it from others was easy because I wasn't flamboyant in the slightest and could pass as straight. But I was suppressing my sexuality by hiding it, and I also started believing myself when I said I was straight but still had gay thoughts. I wound up self-loathing and repressed by the start of sophomore year.
On midnight of April 28, 2010, I had finally given up. I decided that if I was straight, I could say "I'm gay" out loud and nothing would happen. I was very wrong. After I said it, I felt a ball of light well up in my chest. I knew that I had hit upon a truth about myself that I had hidden. At that moment, I knew that I was gay. For the first time in a long time, I was truly happy.
"I've only lived for a year and a half."
That was my first thought of this dreary October afternoon, when I started writing this essay. After recounting what I was like for the first sixteen years of my life, I only now realize that I'm a better person than when I was sixteen. Since then, I've broken out of my shell in countless ways, all because I know that I'm gay.
I'm now secure enough in my personality that I can start up conversations with people and act like myself, rather than a persona that I would adopt for fear of revealing how awkward I thought I actually was. I'm comfortable asking guys out because I'm confident enough to know that I have a chance with them. I'm comfortable in my own skin because I have enough self-respect to build and maintain a healthy body. I have enough self-esteem now to accept when I make mistakes and feel proud when I accomplish things.
So far, I've only lived for a year and a half. I don't know what obstacles I will face in the future, but I know that I will face them as a happy, confident, and secure gay man.
"I've lived a lie for sixteen years."
That was my first thought of April 28, 2010. Strange as it may sound, it was and still is one of the most important statements I've made about myself because it took me four years to admit it.
It took me four years to admit that I was gay.
I'll start a little further back. When I was a kid, I was depressed, lonely, and nerdy. I had friends, but I was unpopular and felt shy when talking to people I didn't know very well, which was 90% of the school. There were nearly no gay kids at my middle or high school, and I didn't have anyone to talk to about what I had been feeling since puberty, so I ended up talking to myself about these newfound feelings.
Naturally, I didn't want to be anything that would make me even more unpopular, so I started denying it to myself. Hiding it from others was easy because I wasn't flamboyant in the slightest and could pass as straight. But I was suppressing my sexuality by hiding it, and I also started believing myself when I said I was straight but still had gay thoughts. I wound up self-loathing and repressed by the start of sophomore year.
On midnight of April 28, 2010, I had finally given up. I decided that if I was straight, I could say "I'm gay" out loud and nothing would happen. I was very wrong. After I said it, I felt a ball of light well up in my chest. I knew that I had hit upon a truth about myself that I had hidden. At that moment, I knew that I was gay. For the first time in a long time, I was truly happy.
"I've only lived for a year and a half."
That was my first thought of this dreary October afternoon, when I started writing this essay. After recounting what I was like for the first sixteen years of my life, I only now realize that I'm a better person than when I was sixteen. Since then, I've broken out of my shell in countless ways, all because I know that I'm gay.
I'm now secure enough in my personality that I can start up conversations with people and act like myself, rather than a persona that I would adopt for fear of revealing how awkward I thought I actually was. I'm comfortable asking guys out because I'm confident enough to know that I have a chance with them. I'm comfortable in my own skin because I have enough self-respect to build and maintain a healthy body. I have enough self-esteem now to accept when I make mistakes and feel proud when I accomplish things.
So far, I've only lived for a year and a half. I don't know what obstacles I will face in the future, but I know that I will face them as a happy, confident, and secure gay man.
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