#qyoc

I either consciously or subconsciously ignore thinking about the present state of my life. I think it stems from years of repressing my own sexuality. It was acknowledged, understood, and accepted by me, but still repressed. Then I did the same with my legal status. Acknowledged, understood, and accepted, but repressed. It's been a coping mechanism. It gets me to the next day, week, month, year. There I was sitting in workshop after workshop listening to people talk about their sexuality, oppression, community, love, and struggle while I tried to block all those concepts and ideas from touching me. But I failed. And I'm glad I failed.

The last workshop I went to was actually kind of problematic. The room was divided into groups of four people. Each person was supposed to talk about their life and their identity to the rest of the group in ways that they've never spoken about it before. The goal was to become vulnerable. Now, I said the workshop was problematic because it could be triggering for many people to talk about things that they've repressed. For me, the workshop tied everything I had gather over the prior two days together. 

In Houston I learned to bring myself out in the open and use that for effective change. After starting school at FSU I started to freely explore and express my sexuality. Before coming to Tallahassee, due to the environment I was in, I was restricted to what I could do, what I could say, and where I could go. Moving up here changed all that. And although that journey is not complete, I'm  satisfied with my embrace of my queerness. But the other side of me, being undocumented and from a low-income household, I've had trouble with. As I was speaking to the three people in the vulnerability workshop group, I had an epiphany like I've never had before. I realized that my identity as undocumented and low-income has shaped me in ways far greater than my sexuality ever has. Being gay has almost never been a barrier for me. Yet there I was in a national conference after having spent two of the best days of my life. And that's where I broke down. Because it all kind of hit me at once. My privileges, my struggles, and my identities have never truly been seen. As people we're all like one big supermarket. A supermarket that's full of different items. But some items are bigger, or flashier, or cooler, or more expensive. And so we spend more time with those items. We look at them, talk about them, maybe post pictures of those items on instagram. But in doing so we ignore all the other aisles, all the other shelves, all the items hidden in the corner of the bottom shelf of aisle 12. 

I'm talking about supermarkets when I should be talking about me. But there I was! I was inside the supermarket! Exploring shelves and aisles that I've only passed by before. I knew they were there. But I never moved myself to explore what they were all about. 

Wednesday night I got the opportunity to stand in front of my student Senate, a room full of student leaders and friends, and announce to everyone that at one point in my life, I was undocumented. I realized the weight of that moment hours later when I got home. I sat by my desk and started typing a message to my mom, dad, and siblings. Only three years ago I was home trying to figure out what to do with my life when work and school were not options. But now there I was standing in front of one of the most prestigious institutions on my school campus telling everyone about a secret that up till that point only trusted friends knew.

I think only time and experience grants us the ability to truly understand the impact and power of living in one's truth. For me it's been a journey. I've arrived at a a point in my life where I'm  starting to see the power in owning my story, owning my life, and owning my experiences.

I have so much more to say but it's Friday night and I wanna Netflix turnip so I'll leave with an Audre Lorde quote via Janet Mock.