Is it safe to be open?
My hand lurches through the air in a desperate attempt at the cleanest dap. (Part of being a guy is knowing “the handshakes,” right?) Other times, I take mental notes of other people’s interests so I can pretend to be in the know or lower my voice to a more stable, monotonous tone, making sure not to sound too excited or “unmanly.”
Code-switching has been a constant throughout my days. Though I knew I was building a facade, it felt unsafe to exist without one; being truly myself would mean not fitting in at my homogenous school, which rarely offered chances to inhabit my Asian identity or explore my interests in art and psychology (so at odds with the predominant obsessions of sports and business). And, of course, revealing even a glimpse of my sexuality ran the risk of ostracization or worse.
By junior year, however, my frustration with my repressed identity had reached a breaking point. The question “How to be myself?” sat stubbornly in the search box night after night, leading me to seek advice from therapy advertisements, Quora pages, and Healthline articles. Yet among the ocean of words, one piece of advice came up again and again: open up.
On Tuesday night, I decided to take baby steps toward that advice, beginning with my parents, unaware of any substantive problems in my life. When my mom came downstairs to ask when I was going to sleep, I gulped nervously and asked her if she could stay for an extra thirty minutes. Like diving off a cliff, I began recounting my frustrations with my school life: how I felt like I didn’t fit in and how my peers seemed so comparatively comfortable with themselves. As my vent wound down, I found myself asking one question:
“After all of this, do you still love me?”
My mom smiled. “We support you no matter what.”
My parents’ support gave me the courage to seek professional guidance despite my hesitation that counseling was only for people experiencing severe mental health issues. Thanks to my therapist, I learned how to reframe my attitude on not fitting in, helping me see that what I was experiencing was not because of me but rather my environment. She encouraged me to step into uncomfortable situations and make the most out of my current surroundings, guiding me toward the next step in opening up.
It was finally the time to put the phrase into practice. Toward the end of my junior year, I co-hosted a web seminar with our school psychologist for AAPI parents in which opened up about my experience with counseling before an audience of 80. Using my own story, I demonstrated how children can be supported in similar situations. Afterward, I was gratified by many parents’ expressions of appreciation for how my story changed their outlook on their child’s school life.
The realization that my openness could create change in my community led to my most radical act of vulnerability. In July of 2024, sitting in a circle with a group of new friends at camp, I came out. To my immense gratitude, I received overwhelming support: some encouraged me to stay strong through my last year in school, while others clapped in appreciation. Even more movingly, others also began sharing their vulnerable secrets. I’m incredibly grateful to have kickstarted the creation of a safe space, and even to this day, that group continues to stay in touch and remain vulnerable about our own lives.
Is it safe to be open?
I have to admit that I still struggle with being vulnerable and open sometimes. However, my efforts to be open so far have enabled me to create community, form deeper human connections, and live an authentic life. In that sense, there is a clear answer: It is always more rewarding to be open than not.
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