The Challenging Path to Self Acceptance

17

By time my freshman year of high school had began, I had already had a job, a permit to drive, and I was feeling alive and well. I was still living with Michael and his family, but I helped around the house a lot and I used most of my money to help pay for things. Michael's parents, who I had come to call Mom and Dad, frequently told me that I didn't have to do any of the things I did, but I did them anyway. I didn't want to be a burden on them.

I had managed to make myself feel a lot better by finding healthy outlets for me to invest myself in. I had tried a lot of different things while trying to find the right activity for me. I eventually found that things I enjoyed the most were talking to people in support groups, and exercising. Michael was very proud of me for everything I did, even though I wasn't very good at any of it, and he was even more proud of me for sticking with the two things that I liked the most. So, when the first day of freshman year finally rolled around, I was a completely new person.

Things were going pretty well for me in my classes, until one day, in one of my classes, we had to write about a time that we struggled. Without thinking, I just began writing out every word that came to mind, and ended up writing a very long essay about the entire situation of me being gay. I wrote the entire story from beginning to end without leaving a single detail out. I turned in the assignment, thinking that I would get it back a little while later with a letter grade at the top with a few notes here and there, and that would be the end of it. I was wrong. 

Quite a few days later, the teacher, Mr. Wittley, who I had to write the paper for asked me to stay back after class to talk to him. When I did, I watched him pull out the essay, and I began to get a little nervous. It hadn't occurred to me that I probably shouldn't have written all of the stuff that I did, until it was far too late to take it back. I couldn't help but think about all of the bad things that he must of thought of me after reading that essay.

"Max, can we talk about this paper?" Mr. Wittley asked. I gulped, nodded, and sat down in the desk that he had gestured to. He sat down across from me, and layed the essay down on the desk in front of him. 

"So, uh, what did you want to talk about?" I asked awkwardly.

"Well, for starters, this is one of the best esseys I have ever read." Mr. Wittley said, and I relaxed. 

"Thanks."

"Of course. It was so well written, and very detailed, and very, very engaging. But, I have to ask, is this all true?"

"Every last word."

"You had quite the year then."

"It's not over yet." 

"No it most certainly isn't." Mr. Wittley chuckled. "But, I'm afraid I have to express my concerns."

"Ok."

"Although this is a very well written essay, and a very engaging story, I need to make sure that you're ok. A lot of the stuff that you wrote about is hard for most people to go through, and hard to overcome. Do you need to talk to someone?"

"No thank you sir. As I mentioned in the essay, I have outlets to help me out, and I have been doing well."

"Yes, I can see that you have been doing remarkable for someone in your situation. Now, you mentioned in your essay that you have carved into your own skin in an effort to cope with your conflicting thoughts and feelings. Is that something that you still do?"

"No. I stopped after carving the f slur into my thigh."

"Well I'm glad to hear that you stopped, and that you are doing good, but some of the stuff that you wrote is very concerning. So if you ever need to talk to someone, or you think you might need help, you can come talk to me and I will do what I can to help you out."

"Thank you." I said before standing up, and pushing in my chair. I was halfway out the door when Mr. Wittley got my attention again.

"Oh, and Max," He said, causing me to turn around and look at him. "Have you ever thought about writing a book?"

"No, I haven't." I replied.

"Well you should. You're very gifted."

"Thank you." With that, I left.

< * >

I told Michael and Fin about my conversation with Mr. Wittley, and they both wanted to read this magical essay that I had written. I let them both read it, which actually meant that I didn't get it back for a little while, and I was nervous about their reactions. I was worried about what both of them would think about the bits about my crush on Fin, and I was worried about how Fin would react to the stuff about what Michael and I would do at each other's houses.

I didn't have a crush on Fin anymore, and I made sure to clarify that in the essay. I was very happy with Michael, and I was very loyal to him. However, even if I wasn't happy with Michael, I wouldn't cheat on him, because that is just wrong. But I was happy with Michael, and I made sure that he knew that before he even got the chance to say anything to me about the essay. He understood though, and he was completely ok with me having a crush on Fin in the past, and so was Fin.

After clearing that up, both of my friends told me that they agreed with Mr. Wittley, and that I should write a book. I was surprised, to say the least, because I didn't think I was really any good at writing at all. Once the surprise wore off, I pointed out the fact that I didn't know what to write a book about, or how to publish it.

"Make this your book." Fin said, gesturing to the essay that sat on the table.

"Yeah, and we'll help you publish it." Michael said enthusiastically.

"Wait a minute. Do you guys hear how ridiculous this sounds. I'm just a freshman in high school ok? I'm not some big shot author who has the ability to write a good book, or do anything useful with my life. Heck, I barely even have a life." I argued.

"Just because you're a freshman doesn't mean that you can't  be an author Max." Michael argued back.

"How would I even find the time to write a book? I'm too busy doing things that I actually want to do."

"It'll be easier with us here to help you." Fin said.

"Guys, I - I'm not so sure about this." I said, nervously rubbing the back of my neck.

"We are." Michael said.