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Coming Out > Red Bird Mission - My Story

MY COMING OUT STORY BY: Jordan Palmer

I was a freshman in high school, attending a Methodist "boarding school" in Southeastern Kentucky. It was unlike any experience I'd ever had. I don't remember what inspired me to want to leave home and attend a private school, but I insisted.

My parents had been divorced since I was a child, and my Dad wasn't happy about me attending a "Methodist" school because he's a minister with the Church of Christ. He told me Methodist's go to hell, "everyone goes to hell except Christians in the Church of Christ." I never put too much stock into what my Dad said about anything, we where always at odds with each other; I didn't like the person he was and he hated the person I was. I never solicited my Dad's opinion, but he was always quick to condemn anything I ever did; I think he knew I was gay, even from a young age. Even though I made straight A's in school all my life, was always 1st or 2nd place in track, sang, school plays, etc. nothing was ever good enough.

After getting situated in school, I enjoyed it more than anything. The dorm was fun. Michael Fox was one of the people who had a room next to me, and every morning I'd wake-up to him playing something by Prince, usually "Cream." Another person I always liked was Jeb, his room was across the hall next to the bathroom he was always borrowing my clothes, and I his hairspray (I still remember how much I always loved his hairspray...stupid isn't it? but it smelled sooo good).

After a couple of months I made some good friends, and every other weekend we got to go home; a lot of my friends would come home with me on various weekends. I remember being at my Mom's carpet store in Hazard, and my friend asking me what it would be like to be with a guy. Keep in mind, I'm a freshman in high school (he was a Junior) and I had no idea. I only knew I was attracted to him, and he said we'd "fool around" later. Having lived a sheltered Christian life, I honestly had no idea what that involved. Finally we where at my home, alone, and he kissed me. I remember how warm it was, and the feeling it gave me.

FAST-FORWARD: A couple of weeks later he asked to join the Cardinal Singers; a kinda in-school band. The school was private and didn't receive state funding, so the school had a band that would travel to the largest Methodist churches across the country, have a concert, and get money (mostly large, private donations). I was so scared, and it seemed like so many people tried out. I was so surprised when I was told I'd been selected. The real horror I had to overcome was stage fright; even standing with other people, singing in front of hundreds of people is intimidating. But, I was happy, my new boyfriend and I were together, and I got to travel across the country with him.

FAST-FORWARD 1 YEAR: My sophomore year was beginning to be very difficult. My boyfriend was increasingly interested in girls, and me being around was an uncomfortable reminder of something he was possibly trying to leave behind. One night during an "at home weekend," he held a pillow over my face and I couldn't breathe; I couldn't escape his grip no matter what I did, he was taller than me, more muscular, stronger, and bigger. I did the only thing I could think of, I stopped moving and stopped trying to breathe. I'll never forget that it honestly felt like I could feel the neurons firing in my brain and I began to loose consciousness; it's difficult to explain, but it was terrifying. I could feel my heart beat and every sense I had was intensified and I suddenly became more aware than ever prior to drifting toward unconsciousness. The next thing I new a wave a fresh air hit my face as he removed the pillow and jumped down off the bunk bed. The only other thing I remember is screaming "Mom!" I never told my Mom what happened. If I had, she quiet literally would have probably killed him.

FLASH: Now that I understand the hardships teenagers go through. Now, I can look back on it and think, gosh, you have your whole life in front of you, don't get so serious about a high school boyfriend; but that's now. That's the wiser me talking.

FAST-FORWARD: Touring was getting old, sometimes 6-7 hours on a bus, then came the setup, etc. I was tired, and still at odds with my boyfriend. I was afraid to leave him, or let him leave me. I thought, I'll never be happy again, and I'd rather be dead than without him. To the outside world, I was always in a good mood, and nothing was ever wrong; but there's a difference, I was always in a good mood, but withdrawn; I was a total bitch to just about everyone. I couldn't allow anyone to get close enough to me to find out what was going on. I didn't want anyone to see my uncertainty and pain.

MADISON: During the tour, we spent a "day in school" in Madison, Wisconsin (beautiful place). I had a host for the day that took me to his classes with him. Going down the stairs we passed my boyfriend. As I passed, he raised his elbow and busted by mouth; sorry he said, as he continued going up the stairs. He later told me I was too friendly with my host.

RED BIRD MISSION: Back at school for a few weeks, my boyfriend was in my room. He lived on the dorm system also, but not in the actual dorm. He was in my room during visiting hours and I don't remember what started it, but he grabbed by throat and started chocking me. He slammed me against the sink, which made me fall back a little, just enough to make him loose his grip on me, when he did, I knocked his brains out with a bottle of Scope on the sink. I'd had enough. We beat the shit out of each other until the dorm parents heard what was going on and broke us up. He was ordered to leave and banned from returning less he be expelled from the entire school. His being banned only lasted a couple of weeks because I convinced the dorm parents everything was my fault and I had to take extra chores to make up for my behavior.

A couple of weeks later, at a "camp fire" on campus, we were having a good time. Then, my boyfriend started making fun of me to everyone and calling me queer. I decided to leave and walk back to the dorm. The next thing I knew I was tumbling down the hill; someone had pushed me from behind. When my tumble came to a stop be came over and helped me up. He said he was sorry and told me to go to my room. I remember the dorm parents asking me what happened.....I fell I said.

A few weeks later I realized I couldn't leave him, and he would no longer allow me to leave him. I had no one to talk to….being gay wasn't talked about in 1992. I was only a sophomore in high school, but I didn't see a way to end the relationship. I looked at my life and couldn't remember how I allowed myself to get into this situation. I was physically afraid of him, intimidated, and alone. It would be another 5 years before "violence against gays" made news across the nation with Matthew Shepherd. My boyfriend was violent with me because he wanted to be straight, and took his inability to "transform" himself out on me. His father would have literally beat him to death had he found out.

By Thanksgiving 1992 I'd had enough. I had no one to talk to, and honestly thought I was the one who was sick for being gay. Standing in front of the mirror in my dorm room I decided to end it. I took a pen and forced the blade out of a disposable razor and cut my wrists. The blade however was dull, and I couldn't get the cut to go deep enough despite repeated attempts. A friend walked into my room and found blood all over me, the sink, and the carpet; I was still pressing the blade as hard as I could against my flesh desperately seeking the relief I thought death would bring. My friend turned on cold water and put my wrists under it. He ran out to get towels. He talked to me as he continued to try to stop the bleeding. I'll never forget the way he took care of me; this was someone I didn't even think liked me. He was one of the most popular boys in school, someone I had admired because of his intelligence and athletic ability (basketball). The bleeding, however, didn't stop…..off to the hospital I went.

FORWARD: The school insisted I see a guidance counselor daily. I was settling back into my routine. I never told the guidance counselor anything…..except what they wanted to hear. How could I bring myself to tell the counselor I was gay, thereby ending my life as I knew it?

THE END: During a tour stop in Sea Bright, New Jersey I found my boyfriend making out with a girl on the beach. I started to cry like a baby. I wasn't crying because my heart was broken, I was crying because I'd had enough. I was running toward him crying, screaming "faggot" and generally acting like an insane person. This time however, he actually ran from me……..he ran straight and told the director, as well as the minister of the Church a one sided version of the truth.

He told them nothing had ever "happened" between us, and that I was obsessed with him. The director, Mr. Smallwood, was crying as hard as I was when he confronted me about it. I requested he be brought in the room as everyone else was now sitting outside the room in their sleeping bags in the basement of the Church. I tried to grab him, kick him, and everything else once he entered the room. I remember he said "you're gay, and you're made because I'm not; I won't make out with you." Gosh I was so hurt, betrayed, and confused. He made some kind of snotty comment about how he was just outside kissing a girl; I asked to be excused, and went to my bags; I got all the letters he'd written me and tossed them into the room. "Aren't we just so straight I asked?" My boyfriend was taken upstairs as the pastor and Mr. Smallwood was horrified at the events that just took place. I demanded to call my mother, and to go home.

The pastors arranged for a plane ticket, and called a limo for me. He turned out to be a really nice man. I couldn't stop crying, and I refused to talk to anyone. Rachel, a girl I'd always been at odds with before came over to me, held my hand, and told me everything would be OK. I cried all the way to Newark International Airport. The driver took me inside and escorted me to the gate. The way the school treated me and everything that followed is another story.

Suffice it to say however, that relationship was over, forever. I never looked back, and I found a strength within myself I'd never lose again. Little did I know how soon I'd have to put it to use as my life went from bad, to worse…..but that's another story.

Posted by Jordan Palmer on May 5, 2008 at 6:54 pm