Myself (right) and S (left) in Uganda, Summer 2009
*****
It was
the summer after my freshman year of college. I had come out to myself
the semester earlier, after falling in love with one of my close
friends. I attended a Christian college in the Midwest known for it's
non-acceptance of LGBTQ people, and I had bought into it while attending
a small group Bible study that only furthered this non-acceptance in
myself. I told myself that I would never tell anyone about my feelings
for women, and I would force myself to date men. To please God, and my
family. I even promised I wouldn't write it in my journal. That way,
if I died (by whatever means), no one would ever know. I had always
wanted to go to Uganda, or more specifically, since I saw the
documentary Invisible Children in my sophomore year of high school. It
became clear (to me) that the best time for me to go and fulfill that
dream, was now. So I went. I raised the money all on my own, found an
organization to volunteer with, and I went. I remember my best friend
(at the time, no longer) advised me to go "...and not think about boys.
Christian women go into the mission field all the time searching for a
husband, go for yourself, and God." I nodded and agreed, that would be easy.
But I also decided to try to forget about what I had learned about my
feelings for women as well, and just focus on myself, what I was doing,
and God.
I arrived in Uganda in June of 2009. For a month, I
kept my pact with my friend, and myself. I remember at the one month
mark saying to myself, "wow, I haven't even thought about any of that
shit!" I absorbed myself into the culture (as much as I could) and fell
in love with the country and friends I made there.
Then, right at the one month mark, trouble came to
Africa in the form of a woman: S. One of the American volunteers
who had been there starting in May told me that she had invited a friend
of hers from college to come because she was a videographer and the
organization wanted her to create promotional videos for the
organization's website. I paid no mind to this at the time, and just
nodded and said I was excited to meet her. She arrived on the day that
the girl I had become closest with had left - so I truly didn't really
pay much attention to her. And, I learned, that she didn't pay much
attention to me either. At the time, my hair was plaited with an
African weave in little braided dreadlocks and a hoop nose ring adorned
my freckled nose, and she wasn't looking for love either. This was a
job for her.
A few days before we were supposed to leave for
safari, we were invited to be bridesmaids in one of the Ugandan women's
introduction ceremonies. (Basically an engagement party, but it is a
MUCH bigger and more traditional ceremony than the wedding). Per
tradition: we were not allowed to have our hair in a weave. So, my
dreads had to come out. I spent the night before with the whole house
pulling fake hair out of my head and sleeping on my 80's rockstar style
hair: crimped, frizzy, and greasy. The next morning, I washed my hair
for the first time in 4 and a half weeks and used a hairdryer and
straightener. S tells me this was when she really noticed me, and
decided she wanted to pursue me. Apparently it was one of those Megan
Fox moments, where I walked out of the bathroom a totally different
woman, flipping my hair back and forth wrapped in my towel, with the
sunrise behind my head. All of a sudden, S was at my hip the whole
day. Helping me with my hair, painting my toes, I helped her with her
makeup. I remember the way she looked at me made me want to know her
better, and made me want to be around her all day long. I decided to
give her another chance too.
Throughout the ceremony, I felt her eyes adoring me,
and I felt a familiar feeling rising in my gut, I desperately wanted
more time with her, alone. In the car ride home, she rested her head on
my shoulder and I whispered in her ear, "do you want to share a room on
safari with me?" Yes, I totally ditched my friend. I couldn't help it! She nodded and smiled, and went back to resting on my shoulder.
The weekend of safari was one of the most magical
I've ever had. (In efforts to make that sound less corny, it was
magical for more reasons than just S!) We spent the days sitting in
the warm sun on the roof of safari vans roaming through the African
plains, and the nights in an authentic African hut, our beds pushed
together and our mosquito nets tied to drape over both of our beds. She
took the video like she was expected, but all the time with me by her
side taking photos with my fancy camera. I told her it was nice to have
someone to hang back with as we did our art forms. She told me she
appreciated my help, and ended up putting me in some of her shots. Then
at night, we stayed up all night laughing and talking. She told me
everything, even that she was gay and had dated women before. I told
her that I understood, I had wondered some of the same things myself.
After that weekend, we were inseparable. Everyone
knew that where one of us was, the other was too. I moved into her dorm
room, and chose to sleep in the bed under hers immediately when we came
back. At night, she would sneak down the bunk-bed ladder and cuddle
with me under my green mosquito net. One night, she kissed me on the
cheek, and it sent shivers up my spine. I kissed her back on the neck.
After a few weeks, a few people started being suspicious that our
friendship was just "too close." One even made a comment, "If you two
were a lesbian couple, Emily would be the feminine lipstick one, and
S would be the more masculine one." We laughed half-heartedly,
worried about being found out, even though we hadn't even talked about
it yet.
Finally, one night, I told S that I had wanted
to sleep outside on the front porch since I got there, but hadn't been
able to yet. I told her I didn't want to do it alone. She told me she
would do it with me, she just wanted to be with me. We put our pillows
and blankets on the mattress on the porch outside and waited until
everyone was asleep to go out there. We watched the sunset over
Kampala, and then I nuzzled my head into her collarbone. She kissed my
forehead and I reached my hands under her shirt, caressing her body
underneath. After a few moments of this, she stopped me, "We have to
talk about this...do you have feelings for me?" I was terrified of all
the things I was feeling, so I broke down and cried while having a panic
attack. I told her I did, but I wasn't sure if it was ok for me to
have those feelings. She just hugged me closer, "I know." I woke up
and told her that I didn't believe it was ok for me to have those
feelings, and she was heartbroken. We continued to be inseparable, and
doing the same things as before, because even though I didn't think it
was ok for me to have those feelings - I did, and I couldn't help
myself. Neither could she.
When I left a month later, she came to send me off
at the airport. We cried and looked at each other knowingly. I told
her we needed to talk once she got back to the States, she nodded.
After a month of skyping between Michigan and Africa, Michigan and
Wisconsin, she came to visit me at my college. There was so much left
unsaid, but all those feelings came rushing back again. The first night
she slept in my lofted twin bed, there was so much tension, the air was
full of it. She held me as close as humanly possible, and I let myself
fall into her. Then, she kissed me, for real this time. I thought to
myself, now I understand. This is what love feels like. I also
came to the realization of just how happy I was. I had a clarifying
moment spiritually soon after, I knew God was rejoicing at my happiness,
and at the great relationship S and I had that was always
supportive of the other. It was going to be ok.
After that, we continued dating
long-distance. I started slowly coming out to friends at school, many
of whom are no longer my friends because of it. I joined an underground
gay support group and started meeting other people at my college who
were like me, and who I could talk to about S. S visited me,
and I visited her all throughout the year. She even moved to my
college town for a short while because she needed a way to get out of
her hometown. She then got a job in the Chicagoland area, and that was
when our long-distance relationship truly stabilized. She was
establishing herself in Chicago, finally being open about her sexuality
with her new friends in her new city, and I was doing the same in my
small-town college. In August, we will have been dating long-distance
for three long (and beautiful) years. But this August will be
different. In May I will graduate with my Bachelors degree in Social
Work. A few weeks ago, I got my acceptance letter from the University
of Chicago's Jane Addams College of Social Work for the Masters in
Social Work program. I sent in my "Intent to Enroll" letter and deposit
immediately. We've started looking for apartments in the neighborhoods
we love in North Chicago, and she's started collecting furniture. In
August, we will finally be together, in the same city, the same home,
and sharing our lives like we've wanted to for three long years. I'm
coming home.
*The
story that I've written above was submitted to What Wegan Did Next's
"Love Stories" section, but has yet to be published there! So, if you
follow them and they post it in the future and it's word for word...now
you know why.
