I was raised by Fear. Being the most prominent and influential presence in my life, she taught me to be skeptical of the world, rearing me to be afraid of anything or anyone who was different—anyone or anything who questioned the normal way of life, or at least that way of life which someone somewhere, once upon a time, deemed to be normal. She told me to never question anything—never to ask the “Whos?”, “Whats?”, “Whys?”, “Whens?”, or “Hows?” that fueled my curiosity. She killed my curiosity, in fact . . . or at least she tried to. But her efforts were in vain. For in attempting to prohibit my mind’s wandering, she instigated something far worse (Well, something far worse for her.). By diverting my eyes from the “dirty,” “dangerous” world, she forced me into a deeper, darker place than even she could ever fathom. She made me a captive of my own heart, and it was there that I found my freedom.
As you have probably assumed, I am a gay man. And as my fellow members of the LGBTQ community know, that is a massive burden to bear, especially in conservative, rural environments. You see, I was brought up in the hollows of the Appalachian Mountains, in a town with a church on what appeared to be every street corner. There, Christian doctrine informed every facet life, including views on sexuality. Traditionally adhering to the understanding that sexual orientation is a choice (something those experiencing the reality know to be untrue), the Church—at large—promotes the idea that relationships (both romantic and sexual) which steer from heteronormativity are a passport to Hell. Now, I—despite being gay myself—lived in accordance to those teachings, which unfortunately resulted in a life of extreme self-loathing and misery. For when I realized that I was indeed the embodiment of everything I was taught to fear, I became more anxious and afraid than ever before. I was terrified of myself, who I was, and what my future entailed. Luckily, however, I, unlike so many of my LGBTQ brothers and sisters, made it to the other side of the rainbow. Finally accepting myself for who I was, I, in 2012, gained the courage to publically come out to my family and friends. Finally, I was free! Or so I thought. While it was true that I had made my way out of the infamous closet, my newfound freedom subjected me to an entirely new set of obstacles.
“Faggot!” “Queer!” they shouted.
After coming out, I could rarely walk down the street or into a supermarket without receiving strange looks or having derogatory slurs spat at me. Now that I was gay (as if no one ever knew), many people in my hometown thought it necessary to remind me of my differences— to make me realize my wicked, wicked ways. And in the midst of all the criticism and ugliness, couldn’t help but think to myself, “Is this really what Jesus would do?” Unfortunately, this treatment was something that I endured for several years, at least until I decided enough was enough.
I will never forget the day I opted to leave my hometown. I was in a meeting at my undergraduate school, which was specifically held for those interested in pursuing a master’s degree. After discussing all of our options as English graduates (Surprisingly, there is a lot more you can do with an English degree than work at Starbucks.), my professor, Dr. Charles Brichford of Concord University in Athens, West Virginia, concluded his presentation with something that profoundly changed my life.
“It’s a big world,” he said. “Go out and see it.”
WOW!
It was the most liberating thing I had ever heard! At last, I had permission to venture away from the place that had caused such heartache and pain. I had the approval to divorce Fear and never look back. And that’s exactly what I did.
In 2016, upon graduating college, I packed my bags. I enrolled a graduate program, rented my first apartment in a new city, and prepared myself for exciting new experiences, opportunities, and relationships. Within my first year outside of my hometown, everything I anticipated came to fruition—all that and so much more. Like many people in grad school, I met someone. And somewhere in the mix of countless hours of conversation and mutual affection, I fell in love—CRAZY love . . . with a man.
It was a foreign feeling. Due to my upbringing in conservative Southern West Virginia, I was never before afforded the opportunity to experience such emotions. True, I had been out and open about my sexuality for a number of years, but I still felt an overwhelming sense of wrongness; I, somewhere deep inside, still felt that somehow my feelings were inappropriate, despite the sheer beauty of the situation. I felt that in some way my own happiness was but a mere deviance. Nevertheless, I tried my best to disregard the doctrine of my childhood, as well as the worry of what everyone back home would have to say about the situation, and permitted myself to be led by my heart. That’s where my real education began.
Over the period of the next four months, our love continued to grow as we shared invigorating new experiences with one another. We traveled . . . a LOT! Touring Canada, Boston, New York, Washington, D.C., and other major cities across the United States, we were enabled to see the world we had always heard about but never had the chance to enjoy for ourselves. For starters, we saw people just like us, people who were not only comfortable within themselves but who were made to feel valued and important by the communities in which they lived. To tell you the truth, I was astounded to discover that there were places where people of my kind (queer people) could not only exist but thrive—places where they were highly regarded and appreciated for their individuality and uniqueness. And each time we returned home from one of our adventures, I would consider more and more the inherent goodness of humanity and my preconceptions would dissipate. My fears—including those I possessed about my own self and life—faded away. I was finally arriving at the conclusion that I deserved to be happy—happy and loved.
You see, travel is a powerful thing; it is much stronger than Fear. For where Fear enslaves, Travel liberates, an understanding that has never been expressed better than by American fictionist Mark Twain, who once wrote, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things,” he says, “cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all of one’s lifetime.”
This, my friends, is what travel did for me. It not only taught me to embrace new ideas and beliefs but how to embrace myself, my life, and my originality. It helped me to see my real self, not the me I was taught to see but the me I truly am: a one-of-a-kind, special individual, who is SO worthy of happiness and love.
My friends, if you are struggling to understand yourself and your place in the world as a result of a life spent in “one little corner of the earth,” a life influenced by the ill-informed opinions of a few, I encourage you to go on an adventure! You just may gain an entirely new perspective of your person and the world in which you reside. In fact, I know you will.
With that said, my wish for you is simple; it’s what I wished for myself as I embarked upon my own journey: may you travel and may you learn. May you realize that you are not alone. But most of all, may you, through your adventures, come to experience love unimaginable.
Author: J.A. Gooch
