I think that I’ve always known in one way or another that I was not straight. It started as what I assumed was “admiring” beautiful women, but as I got older I realized that there were growing parallels between how I felt about boys my age and how I felt about girls. I started getting romantic feelings toward females I knew and in 8th grade, I had my first kiss—with a girl.
At first, I didn’t accept that being attracted to women made me homosexual. I was raised in a religious family and a conservative town, where it was practically undisputed that being gay is a sin. This created a lot of confusion for me; for a while after my first kiss, I refused to acknowledge this part of myself. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school, with my three best friends’ support, that I accepted my sexuality. They remain the only people from my hometown who know.
I didn’t want to come to Baylor. I knew that I would not be accepted. But due to financial and personal reasons, I really had no other choice. So I came: hoping that somehow Baylor would rise above my expectations of hatefulness.
It didn’t.
I am graduating early because I have spent my entire time at Baylor hating it and much of my time hating myself. I have had to listen as multiple people, not knowing I am Bisexual, have ranted about homosexuality being a sin: a product of “selfishness” and something that “saddens God.” If you hold this view I would suggest researching the translational issue surrounding it; many theologians argue that the original text banned pedophilia, renting young male prostitutes, and other forms of rape: not consensual homosexuality. I refuse to have my rights, my happiness, and my sense of community taken away because of a religious view that isn’t even grounded in accurate or agreed-upon scripture. I have watched with sadness as Baylor Gamma Alpha Upsilon—a valuable (and the only) resource for LGBTQIA+ students—has been denied an official charter. I have listened as Christians proclaim obedience to the Love of Christ while simultaneously tearing people like me down, denying us basic rights, and ignoring the severe damage their actions cause. Being here constantly reminds me that I am not the woman Baylor’s “Christian community” is catered toward. I was never meant to thrive here. I was meant to keep quiet and let everyone else enjoy church and being comfortable in homogenous views. I almost did. I almost kept quiet.
But I finally realized that I, and others like me, deserved a home here as much as anyone else. I remembered the conversations I have had with other students in the community who have felt alienated and unloved. I remembered the devastating statistics about mental health among LGBTQIA+ youth. I remembered how important having a sense of community and support is for marginalized groups.
So I stopped being quiet. I am still (mostly) closeted and have only come out to those I trust. My parents do not know. But I still fight. I have called out Baylor’s discriminations in as many ways as I could. I will continue to do so until the LGBTQIA+ community has a home here.
Some days I feel guilty and confused; I am not a confrontational person by nature and it makes me feel hopeless to know that people deny me rights based on what they feel are genuinely held religious beliefs. It makes me sad knowing that, if some of my acquaintances or family members found out about my sexuality, they would think I was going to hell. I don’t want to put that burden on others. But it isn’t my fault. There is nothing wrong with who I am.
If you are a homosexual student, faculty, or staff member at Baylor, I am sorry. I am sorry that, simply because of who you are, you are faced with hardships that this University has done little to nothing to alleviate. I am sorry if you have had to listen to the hate and mischaracterization spoken by so many misguided individuals here. If you are an ally who has worked to make Baylor better for us: thank you. You can never know how much your support has meant to those around you. I have craved love and affection so desperately and your acceptance of who I am has often saved me from self-hatred. Thank you. If you are not an ally or a member of the LGBTQIA+ community: work actively to end the discrimination that we face. Question your church leaders when they take anti-homosexual stances as fact. Research for yourself. Above all, recognize the humanity of those you are trying to strip of basic rights. Your silence, your hate, your attempts at conversion: these are not the actions of a loving Christ-follower.
What I have learned by being a Bisexual woman at Baylor is this: we cannot be made to feel bad for demanding equality. We cannot be made to feel bad for calling out hypocrisy and attempting to make Baylor better for all. If people complain about being made uncomfortable by our attempts, it is because they are comfortable at the expense of others.
Baylor: it is time to change. To do better. Charter Gamma. Stop spewing hateful and controversial theology. Show the love you claim to value.