Those Two Words

By: Emily Markley

Two words that have changed my life forever, it was two words that I had been thinking about for many years, and that I never had the courage to say out loud to myself, or to anyone else. It seemed so pathetic to me at the time that this one simple phrase could cause so much fear and anxiety within me, but it was the power and meaning behind these words which made it feel like everything around me I knew would change; now that I had finally come to terms with who I was. I said those two words to myself for the first time as tears ran down my face, those words being “I’m gay.”

My entire life, I felt as though I had always struggled to fit in and find my niche. I grew up in a very small town in Fauquier County, Virginia. For most of my early childhood, I was what you would consider being a tomboy, I preferred playing baseball and sliding around in the dirt with the boys in my class rather than playing dolls with the girls, and I never went through a “boy crazy” phase like all of my other girlfriends did. The transition into middle school was difficult for me, just as it was for any other kid my age. I very vividly remember that the words gay, lesbo, queer, and various homophobic slurs were the most common insults that my classmates would call each other. Being gay was not common at all in my hometown during this time, and those who were within my school were often ostracized for it. It was eighth grade when I started to question my romantic preferences, and hearing these words being spoken on a daily basis created lots of unease and anxiety within. I began to turn to both my sports and my violin to distract me from the internal conflict that I had felt regarding my sexuality.

Picking up a lacrosse stick for the first time my freshman year of high school gave me the confidence that I felt I had been missing for most of my life. After I had finished my first season of lacrosse, I was enamored with the sport and knew that I wanted to keep playing after high school. Lacrosse was the distraction I needed, and I used it to repress the feelings of uncertainty that I had regarding my social life. Any chance I got to be away from home on the weekends and play the sport I love, I took it, and I embraced missing social events in order to attend lacrosse tournaments and college camps and visits. At the conclusion of my junior year of high school, I committed to play division 3 lacrosse at Washington College, and initially, I could not have been more excited to leave home and start a new beginning. I never felt safe enough to come out at home, so I was feeling optimistic that college would give me the opportunity to embrace who I am.

I have never handled change well, and the move into college took a very big toll on me. Being forced out of my comfort zone with being a part of a new team was very difficult for me, to the point where I would not say a single word to anyone during team gatherings and practice. Around this time, I was also experiencing very severe performance anxiety centered around lacrosse and my violin playing. It was very hard for me to cope with these feelings, and I often got very frustrated with myself, wondering things such as “I never used to feel like this. Why is this all of a sudden happening now?” and “Everyone else can play without feeling this way. Why do I feel like this, and why can’t I just feel normal?” Lacrosse and music were my escape from reality and two of the only things that kept me distracted from the struggles going on within my personal life, and I felt as though I had lost my only coping mechanisms, and I was not handling it well at all. I began to experience a tremendous pressure to be perfect, whether that be stopping every shot I could during a game, playing every note on my violin with perfection, maintaining high grades, and being the perfect relative for my family.

After the first semester of college where I was able to become more comfortable around people, I developed a relationship with a boy and thought that this would solve all of my uncertainties and that this relationship would somehow make me straight. He was a very nice guy and treated me well, but throughout when we were together, I knew that this was not who I was, and no matter how hard I repressed these thoughts, I knew that this was not going to work out, and had to stop denying the truth. Around the middle of February, I sat on my bed in my dorm room, and burst into tears as I said out loud to myself, “I’m gay.” A couple of weeks later after practice, it all became too much for me, and I burst into tears right in front of a couple of my teammates as I finally opened up to them about the secret I had been keeping for so long. All of this was very difficult for me to come to terms with, mainly due to my constant efforts to fit in and be “normal”, and what I had just revealed seemed to be the exact opposite.

My friends and teammates have been very respectful of my coming out, and have not treated me any differently since I came out to them. It was more my own fears and paranoia that caused a lot of panic for me. I dreaded going to lacrosse practice every day, mainly due to being present in a locker room situation as the only women’s lacrosse team member who is a part of the LGBTQ+ community. I was so horrified of doing anything that would make my teammates uncomfortable or having them interpret something I said or did the wrong way, that I would get physically ill before every practice and team gathering that we had. As time went on, my social anxiety began to extend to outside the lacrosse team, and got to the point where I was refusing to leave my dorm room, and began skipping meals in order to avoid being around people within the dining hall. Every morning I would wake up and get sick from the pressure and anxiety that ran through me every hour of every day. My constant panic attacks had taken away everything that I loved; lacrosse, music, my friends, and my sense of self. How can you go on when everything that you loved just makes you sick? How can you go on when nothing makes you happy anymore?

At the end of March, things had finally got to be too much for me, and I had finally opened up to my coaches about how I had been feeling. After a very long discussion with therapists, my coaches, and my parents, we had decided that it would be best for me to take a medical leave away from school and lacrosse in order for me to meet with my doctors and figure out a plan for my recovery. I was always honest with my doctors and therapists about how I had been feeling, but throughout the time I was on medical leave and the weeks following, I struggled to be honest with my parents and coaches about my unhealthy methods of coping, the truth about my sexuality, and the constant thoughts of self-harm running through my head. Part of this was fear of losing the support I had from them, and that they would be even more concerned for me if they had known how I was actually feeling. At this point, I didn’t want any more attention being drawn to me relating to my struggles. I was ashamed that I had been feeling this way, and was so scared of other people finding me weak.

After I returned to school from medical leave, with the help of new anxiety medication, I was feeling very optimistic and wanted to do everything I possibly could in order to finish off the year strong. Our final game this year was the Centennial Conference semifinal, which was a very hard fought battle with Gettysburg, and we came up just short. The end of a season is always emotional for everybody, but it hit me really hard this year. After the game when I met up with my mom, she hugged me and told me that she was proud of me for making it through my freshman year. I immediately broke down into tears and opened up to her, telling her that a few weeks prior, I didn’t think I would be alive to see the end of our season, or finish my freshman year, but I did. That was also the day that I had come out to my mom, and confessed to her that almost all of my social anxiety was tied to struggles I had faced with discovering who I am.

The following Monday, I met with my coaches in their office, and had finally confessed to them the truth about my mental health, and how most of the anxiety and relationship struggles I had felt with my teammates stemmed from me being the only member of the LGBTQ+ community on our team. I really bonded with my team’s head coach during this time, as she shared how nervous she felt when she had come out for the first time. Seeing her feel comfortable talking about her fiancé really gave me the confidence that I needed, and someone within the lacrosse community who knows how I feel, and went through the process of coming out and is living a very happy life. This conversation really pushed me to open up about my sexuality with others, and with this, I have met other members of the lacrosse community like me, and members of different sports teams at Wac who are proud members of the LGBTQ+ community.

Coming out is never easy, and opening up about it was even harder for me, but I’m so happy that I took a step forward and said “this is what’s been going on. I’m scared and I need help.” I told my teammates a lot this year, “I don’t want to be remembered for all of my struggles. I want to be remembered for the good that I brought to this team.” There is so much more to me than what’s happened this past year. I’m a hardworking music major and violinist, on the path of pursuing more musical endeavors, an artist who loves drawing and painting pictures for my friends, and a proud member of the Washington College Women’s Lacrosse Team, and will always be my teammates’ number one cheerleader. Despite the struggles that I have faced, I’m still the same person that I always was, but now the world knows me a little better. For the first time in quite a while, I’m proud of the person that I am, and my hopes for the future involve being honest about my struggles, and creating a safe space for those who feel as hopeless as I did. A month ago, I didn’t think I’d be here to share my story, but I’m so incredibly blessed that I am. My biggest takeaway from my experience is: on the surface, it’s so easy for you to bottle up your feelings and act like everything is ok, and that you have life all figured out. I never knew how much support I had and how many people genuinely cared about my wellbeing until I was honest with myself, and honest with those who were concerned for me. I always heard the phrase “you never walk alone” growing up, and I’ve discovered that there is truth buried within it. Coming out of the closet was very anxiety inducing for me, and in the future, I hope that we can live in a world where no one has to feel fear with telling the world who they are, and how they feel.