I spoke to a coworker today about the differences between my brother and I. It really got me thinking. We were raised in the same house under the same circumstances in the same school system. All things considered, I should be just as ridiculously conservative as he is. So… Why am I not?

I really think the root of it all is my queerness. Even before I accepted who I am, I accepted all of the people who were not accepted in the social circles that exist in small towns. I would just like to take the time to thank God for my queerness because I fear that I would be just like my brother if I was not.

Grilled Cheese

I know this won’t seem like much to most people, but I made a grilled cheese today by myself, didn’t call the ex, and it was DELICIOUS!

As a background to this seemingly meaningless story, I can cook, and I cook well. My biggest struggle in the kitchen was grilled cheese. I used to toast the bread in the toaster and microwave it after putting cheese on the toast because I didn’t want to burn the bread.

I made grilled cheese for the ex this way. They promptly threw the sandwich away and made possibly the best grilled cheese I’ve ever eaten. After that, they made all of my grilled cheese sandwiches because I loved the way they made them.

Today, I was really craving one of those buttery, melty grilled cheeses. I made one for myself, and it was great. It’s probably dumb, but it kind of made me feel like I may be okay without my ex.

Rough Day

My ex-fianc√© called me today asking me to sign papers to end our lease so he can move in with his ex-girlfriend which destroyed me since it’s only been 3 months.

I had been sober for 7 almost 8 days, but I had a drink earlier.

Well, part of one because I remembered that I was fighting for my sobriety.

Hopefully better days are on the way if I just keep being patient.



This week has been Hell. I had too much to drink for the first time in a while last Sunday. All I’ve wanted to do since then is drink.

Since I’ve been denying my body what it thinks it needs, I am the most sick I’ve been in a while–both physically and mentally. Anyway, I’ve been without any alcohol for a week now, and I’m proud of myself even though I (in my grandmother’s words) “look like death”.

Sunday Mornings

The problem about living in a small town as a religious queer person is that Sunday mornings are emotionally draining.

I love God. I love worship. I hate wondering who would hate me if I came out. I hate hearing queer people compared to pedophiles and rapists.

The worst part is that I can no longer think, “They just don’t know better,” because I’ve been trying to educate everyone on the subject since I found out being queer was “not acceptable” 6+ years ago.

If you’re reading this as a Christian against homosexuality, I don’t agree with you, but please make loving your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ more important than condemning or reprimanding them.

Starting Over

Timeline: November 2016-Present


After the breakup and the loss of who I still believe is the love of my life, I tried to move on. I leaned on a “good” friend of mine. We talked. We talked about trying to date when I was in a good place. Well, this person made things worse. He was extremely manipulative, overly emotional, and took all of his problems out on me. This was after I went to his house to watch a movie, had a couple of drinks (I have not stayed sober during this process–not even limiting to an occasional glass of wine.), and I went to sleep after getting off the phone with my best friend. I woke up in the morning undressed from the waist down to find out that he had sex with me. I felt disgusting. I felt like it was my fault until I realized a couple of things: 1) I had gone to sleep. 2) He didn’t drink. At all. I checked.

I left his house. I showered. I changed clothes. I washed my dirty clothes. I did everything you’re not supposed to do evidence-wise. At this point, I was still blaming myself. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that I realized how wrong it was that it had happened.

To this day, he tries to make me feel bad for leading him on, but being under the influence of alcohol and asleep does not equal consent.

The Rise and Fall of Ryn

Timeline: July 2015-November 2016


It all began with a wonderful person I had known for 14 years. We reconnected. They pulled me completely out of self hatred and alcoholism. They are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met. Shortly after we began dating, my grandfather passed away. They were my rock. My shelter. My everything. I moved in with them shortly thereafter. The time I spent with them was the most beautiful time of my life. They kept me honest and helped me with my addiction to alcohol and self harm. When I did slip up, they held me while I cried. They were everything a recovering person could ask for and more. We had a wonderful relationship. We had issues like every relationship in the history of the world, but it was beautiful overall. We got engaged and planned to spend our lives together, but everything came to an extremely abrupt end. I thought the end of that relationship would kill me, and, on bad days like today, I still think it might. But, I understand that he wasn’t happy. I would (to his day) give everything I have to fix things, but I know that it’s probably impossible. Even after all of this, they help me. I cried on the phone with them last night because I am struggling with my alcoholism issues, and all they did was be there for me. Again, they are the most beautiful person I know. I’m not sure how to move on from here, but I’m trying my hardest every day.

2 Years Later

Timeline: May 2015-July 2015

After two years of self-hatred, she came back into my life. After 2 years of thinking I would find no one else, trying to pray the gay away, and swearing I wouldn’t get into a relationship until after I had put myself through conversion therapy (which I wanted because I hated myself so much), she came back, and I fell just as hard for her this time around. We got engaged. We planned a life together. Then, I realized that she hadn’t grown up, but I had changed. It broke my heart to realize that we no longer had what was once such a special bond, and she realized it was gone too. We broke things off.


Although I knew it was for the best, I became extremely depressed. I started going to clubs every weekend, binge drinking, and I got to the point I felt like I couldn’t live without alcohol in my system. I barely remember the time between the end of our relationship and the beginning of my next because I was so drunk all of the time.

Then, I met someone else who saved me from myself.

Coming Out

Timeline: October 2012-May 2015

Let me just start by saying coming out is not all it’s cracked up to be. The answer to “I’m queer,” is sometimes “No.” Even though it wasn’t a question. Although you thought long and hard about it and imagined the possible ways your family would react and never imagined this reaction, they can tell you no. They can tell you that you’re wrong, confused, have had crushes on the opposite sex, or that you haven’t even been with the same sex.

Honestly, I feel like “Get out,” would have been much better than “No,” for me because I am still having to hide who I am 4.5 years later.


Here are some tips for anyone thinking about coming out:

  1. Coming out or not coming out does not make you more or less queer.
  2. Do not come out if it will put your safety or well-being at risk.
  3. Come up with a game-plan.
  4. Build a support system full of “safe” people before coming out to someone who may or may not be supportive.
  5. Do not let them tell you that you are wrong.
  6. Remember you are amazing, loved, and never alone.
  7. Make sure they know that their love and acceptance is important to you but the lack of it will not change who you are.


I was sent to church every time the doors were open. I was sent to church camp. I was told to hate who I was during a lot of services. I hated myself. I hated my life. I decided that I would be alone for the rest of my life because of who I am. I was miserable for 2.5 years of my life because of this.



Timeline: August 2012-August 2013

Next up in my sad saga is the loss of the one who saved me. We found out that she had gotten pregnant in the week we were broken up. (You can either believe it or not. I don’t care because I’m not sure at this point.) I was there. I was finding a job. I was preparing to become a parent. I was making sure she had adequate prenatal care. This baby (although it was not biologically mine) was going to be loved and cared for by me. Then, we did have issues in our relationship (mostly caused by me), but we always came back to each other. During this time, I decided to come out to my family. (I’ll tell that story next.) At a point that we were more in love than ever, I get the phone call. The baby is on the way. She tells me she is headed to the hospital, and, after that, I hear nothing from her. Absolutely nothing. By the next morning, I am in sheer panic mode. Is my girlfriend okay? Is “our” baby okay? So… Like I assume any worried significant other would do, I called every area hospital to find her because I didn’t know where she went. I finally found her and had the hospital put me through to her room. I breathe a sigh of relief. She is okay. The baby is in the NICU but stable. I go to Wal-Mart to buy a diaper bag and immediate necessities before I go to the hospital. While at the hospital, everything was fine and normal.


Next, I get a phone call from her mother that makes my blood boil to this day.

Me: Hello?

Her: Who do you think you are coming up here without asking me first after you did this?

Me: Did what? I didn’t get her pregnant! If anything, I should be the reason she shouldn’t have gotten pregnant.

Her: Well, stay away from her. I hope you had a good visit because that will be the last time you see her. Thanks for the diaper bag, though!

I call and text my girlfriend every single day until I get a text back saying that the number now belongs to someone else. I would Facebook message her, but her mother blocked me from it. I lost my light, the person who saved me, and my best friend that day.


I wait months. I still hear nothing, so I start trying to move on. At this point, I’m 17. I start this relationship with a 32-year-old which didn’t work for obvious reasons. Then, I start talking to this one guy who starts threatening to kill himself, so I leave. Next, I make a friend, and he rapes me.