Above all, I value clarity, and today I am thankful for it. While I value happiness and safety, I feel that neither are remotely possible without clarity. Without clarity, I feel unsure and insecure, and without security, happiness and safety seem like impossible feats.
Today, I have clarity, and I have been so unclear for so long. Being gay, it seems that true love might be next to impossible. I mean, without any other factors, statistically, it is simply harder. There are less people out there in the world that are gay, making the chances of finding someone who truly loves and respects you slimmer than the average person. Then, you take the stereotypes of the population into account. While not everyone falls into the stereotype, the twenty-something gay man is usually far from committing.
So I hung on to my relationship, trying to make it work, despite the many signs that it just was not. The missed weddings and events, being left behind, and the much more obvious and hurtful actions that made me feel not quite good enough were all too obvious. But I obliviously held on to it, not only because I so desired someone to truly love me, but more so because I completely lacked clarity.
Why am I clear now? I am clear now because I know I need to figure out who I am on my own, a chance I've never gotten before. I'm clear now because I know I deserve better than someone who will leave me at their family's request, and I deserve someone who will be faithful in every sense of the word. Mostly, though, I think I deserve the chance to get to know my adult self.
I was 19. Nine. Teen. I jumped into a relationship, fell hard and fast, and convinced myself I needed it. Needed it more than air, because if I didn't have it, I would be nothing.
I remember, very vividly back to my Education Psych class when we talked about identity. It's funny how much I was able to verbalize then, but how little I was able to internalize. My TA asked in which stage of James Marcia's identities we thought we were. My classmates seemed to think they had achieved their identity, but I felt otherwise. I remember saying that it was impossible to truly know oneself at 19, and that I certainly didn't. Why I didn't recognize it, then, that I shouldn't have committed myself so deeply, I'm not quite sure. I hardly knew what it meant to be a gay man, nonetheless, a committed one.
Today, I feel I'm the closest to identity achievement I have ever been. I am sticking to my morals, and committing. I'm not committing to a specific home; I'm not committing to a specific profession (permanently).
No, I'm committing to myself. Thank you, clarity.
I remember, very vividly back to my Education Psych class when we talked about identity. It's funny how much I was able to verbalize then, but how little I was able to internalize. My TA asked in which stage of James Marcia's identities we thought we were. My classmates seemed to think they had achieved their identity, but I felt otherwise. I remember saying that it was impossible to truly know oneself at 19, and that I certainly didn't. Why I didn't recognize it, then, that I shouldn't have committed myself so deeply, I'm not quite sure. I hardly knew what it meant to be a gay man, nonetheless, a committed one.