Shel Silverstein wrote a poem that I can’t seem to get out of my head. Titled “Masks”, this poem talks about two people with blue skin. They spend their whole life hiding it, yet they are always looking for someone like them. When they finally pass by each other, they don’t notice because they’re both wearing masks.
I always thought that being known was so daunting and vulnerable. I wish I could tell you that I proved myself wrong; however, in actuality, I learned how hard being known truly is. Nonetheless, I think this naked truth about ourselves that we all spend so much time hiding is the exact thing that someone else is looking for. I like to think that no matter what your “blue” is, someone out there is looking for it. Maybe it’s your ethnicity, your religious beliefs, your sexuality, or something else.
For me, it’s my identity as a transgender man. I came out and transitioned in my sophomore year of high school. I didn’t know anyone else who was going through the same thing. Of course, I knew my friends and family loved and supported me, but I needed something else: I was always craving a connection, some deeper understanding with another person. I didn’t think anyone would ever ‘get it’. It was difficult to deal with.
But when I felt like hiding, I performed. I fell in love with performing because I learned how to channel all the emotions I had. By the end of junior year, I was involved in three performing arts classes, had emceed the talent show, and starred in the class lip sync battle as Justin Bieber. When I was on a stage, I was able to show the audience exactly what I wanted, without having to see their reaction.
Of course, off stage, I did have reactions in my daily life. Being known doesn’t mean being understood. People gossiped. Sometimes they would tell me that I was doing something wrong. Someone threw food at me in the cafeteria. I guess that’s not just in movies.
I never let their reactions stop me. I’m out. I’m proud. No mask.
Recently, I’ve had a few people come talk to me about questioning their own gender identity. Now, almost two years after I came out, I am being the person that I needed. Not only for students who are transgender, but for people that feel like no one can understand them. In a world of diverse people, somehow we still end up assuming that everyone is the same. Even if we don’t have the same experience, we can relate to each other. Empathy is a powerful force.
Yes, being known is hard, but I wouldn’t trade this vulnerability for comfort. Life is better blue.