For the majority of my teen years I was cloistered away in a Catholic seminary. It was a beautiful place, surrounded by deep forests and rolling hills. We lived on a sprawling campus, modern Asian/American style buildings, a Pagoda bell tower at the center. It was the setting for one of the happiest times of my life.
The missionary priests who taught us were fascinating men who had lived years, even decades in what seemed at the time to be very exotic locations around the globe — Japan, China, Philippines, Africa, South America. They were, by in large, bright open-minded men, on the cutting edge of Church reform. They inspired me to learn. Many became friends, some traveling companions, and at least one a mentor.*
*The looming question, with the Catholic Church’s horrific record of predator priests and papal cover-up, is whether or not I was one of their victims. It’s also central to the question of these being the happiest of my teen years.
I was very naive then, 13 – 17, but quite aware. I knew about (or realized in hindsight) several gay classmates. And, I knew two young, handsome priests, who stepped out at night. (The legend was that women ‘couldn’t keep their hands off ‘em’.) But I had not a single experience of any priest coming onto me. And, none of my close friends gave any hints of predator priests.
Although I haven’t been a Catholic for a long time, I am ashamed of them, yet unable to be anything but grateful for the teens years in which they launched me into a happy life.
At the time I was both overwhelmed and confused, but now when I look back at the memory it makes me so happy.
I was sixteen and I had just started my first year of college. For a little context, I’m transgender, ftm, and I had started college as a boy. Not a girl who had turned into a boy. Just a boy, so nobody knew I was trans. On my second week there I met a gay boy called Sam and we got along really well. We didn’t have similar personalities or interests, but I suppose that’s what made me like him; he was the opposite to me.
Over the course of two months we became very close and I was beginning to have feelings for him, however, I was scared to tell him for two reasons; I might end up ruining our friendship and I had never told him that I was trans. To my complete surprise, one day before he was going to Ireland to visit his grandparents, he ended up telling me he had feelings for me over text (i know, really romantic) which made me ecstatic until I realised that I still hadn’t came out to him and I was scared he wouldn’t want to be with me because I was trans. I ended up telling him that I needed time to think and I feel extremely bad about it now because he later told me that he was absolutely devastated and thought that I hated him.
We ended up not talking for about three or four days and it probably would’ve lasted longer if he hadn’t Skyped me while he was away. At first the call was awkward because neither of us really knew what to say, but he ended up going on about how if I didn’t like him back then that was fine and he just wanted us to forget this ever happened because he didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. I reluctantly told him that that wasn’t the reason I was being so distant and he became really confused. Long story short: I ended up crying and looking like an absolute mess over a Skype call to the guy I had a crush on. He was obviously concerned and kept asking me why I was crying and eventually I ended up coming out to him.
He just laughed and said, “Did you seriously think that would make me like you any less?”
I was so confused and embarrassed and happy all at the same time. Towards the end of my high school life, when I came out as trans and changed my name and pronouns and stuff, I was bullied and put down for being trans – some of my family didn’t even accept me so hearing him say that made me so overwhelmed. Usually people wouldn’t give me a chance because I was trans hence why I hadn’t been in a relationship before this one so you can’t imagine how happy I was. This was by far the happiest and most embarrassing memory from my teen years.
I’m twenty now and I am still with Sam. We live together with our child (dog) and I couldn’t be happier.
In high school I did drama, and in November we would go to competitions with other high schools in the state. We would travel to different universities, stay in a hotel and share rooms with our friends. The air was always so crisp and cold, and upstate south carolina was so pretty compared to the coast, where I live. The leaves would be changing colors, the air would smell like burning firewood and apples, and my parents gave me $40 to get starbucks for the 3 days I was there. Me and my friends would go to the university book store and steal their t shirts and hoodies, and we would spend all day watching plays and gossiping about our drama class drama. In high school my home life was starting to suck, it was really good to get away and just be with friends. Even though we never won, some of my friends won All Star Cast awards. The lunch was always nasty too, but I wish I could go back. it’s been 3 years since my last states competition and it makes me sad ):