Rohan's Truth - In His Words

I know this is the point of view everybody has been waiting for...Rohan discusses his experiences openly and honestly and I am so proud of him for being vulnerable and risking his emotional well-being to share his story with all of you. I am constantly learning from him every day and moving forward I will try to change my vocabulary to stop using the term "coming out". Please read with an open heart and gentle reminder to always be kind as I am the protective mama bear that will fiercely protect his well-being.

From childhood, Rohan has always been a singer, actor, dancer and he completed an Honours Bachelor of Music Theatre Performance degree and a post graduate diploma in Arts Management. He is currently pursuing his MFA Creative Practice in the UK. You can follow him on Instagram @rohandhupar or via his theatre company @theatreoculus.

See his post below:

Hi everyone :)

My name is Rohan and, as I’m sure most of you are aware, I am Ritu’s eldest son. My mom asked me to share my coming out experience for her blog, which I of course enthusiastically obliged to do so. She has always been my biggest supporter, is one of the most compassionate and open-minded people I know, and the fact that she started this blog to share our family’s experience with navigating intersectional queer South Asian identities to help others going through similar circumstances has only amplified my love and admiration for her.

To start, I don’t like the concept of “coming out” at all. I recognize the desire to have a conversation where one expresses their feelings regarding their sexuality, confiding in loved ones and articulating these feelings to them for the first time. But how is that kind of conversation different from disclosing any other kinds of personal feelings or information, regardless of how high or low the stakes of it are? History has proven that homosexuality and queerness has existed in many species for centuries. This ceremonious context we have placed around disclosing one’s sexuality is simply a result of societal and systemic oppression which brands anyone who strays from heteronormative identities as shameful, unworthy and disgraceful. Continuing to uphold this concept will only continue to perpetuate systems of oppression and the ongoing “othering” of queer people. Moving forward in this post, I’ll refrain from using the term “coming out”, and will instead say things like “opening up”, “confiding in”, and other similar wordings.

Secondly, while I identify as a gay man, I usually prefer to use the term “queer”. While the word does have a history of being used as a slur, in recent years it has been reclaimed by the 2SLGBTQ+ community, and I find comfort in using it to align with my own identity. Yes, I am a cisgender man who is attracted to other men, but I recognize that sexuality and gender are not rigid concepts and rather exist on a spectrum. The evolution of my identity is an ongoing process which will last my entire lifetime, and as I continue to explore my place within the queer community, I wish to remain flexible and open to all possibilities under the umbrella of queerness.

I also want to preface this post by saying that this is all an illustration of my personal experience. My experience is not the same as every queer person’s. Queer people are not a monolith; we all have individual lived experiences with different nuances of struggles, challenges, and even privileges. I am happy to share mine with the understanding that it is not a reflection of the entire queer community, but may still provide some insight to anyone wanting to listen.

And one more note before I get into answering the questions my mom sent me, I’m aiming to keep my answers rather unfiltered, conversational and raw. Apologies in advance for any awkward grammar. This will be the first time I actually recount and re-live some of these moments, and so I want to be protective of my own triggers and emotional state as well. Thank you for bearing with me, and for receiving this post with kindness and empathy.

Now without further ado:

How old were you when you started questioning your sexuality?

I think I’ve always been curious about my sexuality, from a young age. The first time I kissed a boy was in Kindergarten, but I also kissed girls then, so obviously none of it meant anything (and also we were five years old so…). I also loved to play dress-up in skirts and heels and dresses and jewellery. I always knew I was different from the stereotypical boys I grew up around; I wasn’t into sports or video games. I loved going to dance class and watching musicals. These were things I was bullied for throughout elementary and middle school, and not only fed into my awareness of being different, but also fed into the growing anxiety and shame I felt around it. But in saying all of this, my sexuality is something I’ve always been aware of, but didn’t necessarily have the tools to articulate it (or the media representation to know that it was ok to be different). I’m currently 25 years old, and can confidently say that I’ve been queer for all 25 of those years. It wasn’t until I was about 9 or 10 years old that I started becoming actively curious and really tried to put words to the ways I was feeling. I was not the most open child in terms of feeling comfortable asking my parents questions about sensitive topics. I also heard family members and friends make casual ignorant comments which made me feel even less inclined to open up a conversation about my feelings. So I unfortunately exercised my curiosity on the internet, where I found myself looking at many X-rated websites, and speaking with strangers in chat rooms and online forums. I acknowledge how dangerous and unhealthy these were as sources for me to begin understanding my sexuality, which just goes to show how crucial it is to integrate conversations about queerness into sexual health curriculum. It is absolutely possible to have these conversations in school and at home in ways which are healthy and age-appropriate, and anyone who says otherwise is simply a part of the problem.

How did you feel when you decided to tell people?

I don’t have a clear solid answer for this. I think I got to a point where I had finally accepted myself, and that’s the key first step before feeling ready to tell other people. And it took me a while to get there. My parents monitored our internet use when we were younger, and so they eventually discovered the stuff I was looking at, which initiated our conversations about sexuality and my curiosity. Mom also got me some books and took me to the Peel Sexual Health clinic where one of the practitioners pointed me towards a bunch of proper resources. I was starting to feel supported, but also was still in denial of my sexuality; I was still being bullied at school, and apparent attitudes in our family still kept me from wanting to open up any further. As a teenager, I started to become a bit more comfortable with acknowledging my sexuality but was still afraid to tell people. I had started seeing more queer representation on TV, and went to a performing arts high school where the majority of the population was incredibly open-minded and accepting. It was the first time I was in an environment where I felt like I could be open about who I am. I feel incredibly lucky to have had that kind of situation in my life, because far too many queer people go much longer without feeling like they are in a place where they are accepted. I am so grateful to the friends and teachers at my high school who helped me to love myself and start living my life fully.

Who did you tell first and why? Who did you feel most supported by? Did you have fears/reservations?

The first person I told was one of my best friends at school (shoutout to Katie). We became close friends quickly in grade 9, and I told her in grade 11 at the most random moment. I really felt the need to tell someone, and she was someone I really felt comfortable opening up to and I just really needed to get it off my chest for the first time. After opening up to her, I just kind of started being open about it to everyone at school without any sort of conversational lead-up; I didn’t feel the need to be like “I have something to tell you” to every single one of my friends. I had told one person I was gay and that was all I felt I needed to do. If people asked, I’d be open about it. I’d talk openly about boys I thought were cute, and even started thinking about dating. While it felt incredible and liberating to be living my truth at school, I was still afraid of opening up to family and at home. My family has always been quite liberal, but I knew there were still some more traditional attitudes when it came to certain topics. My parents still monitored our phone and computer use, especially given my previous internet activity from years prior. And so they read a text conversation on my phone which made it clear to them I was starting to be open about being queer. They confronted me with the text messages, which prompted a long and emotional conversation where I finally told them. Mom was receptive and empathetic to the conversation, albeit sad to hear I didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell them on my own. Dad had a rough time with it at first, citing feelings of confusion and disappointment which I didn’t fully understand as we’d been having conversations about my curiosities for years. He said some hurtful things, which really stuck with me for a long time. I was depressed at school for a while, prompting many of my teachers to ask me about my mood and continuously check in on me and lift me up (thanks Ms. H and Ms. G). Dad has come a long way since then and is now one of my fiercest allies. I love him so much, but nothing will make me forget those words and feelings. I still resent my parents for the fact that I couldn’t open up to them on my own terms, but at the same time am grateful for the catalyst which has led to the loving and accepting family dynamic we have now. To any parents with children they think may be wanting to open up to them about their sexuality, please please please equip yourself in advance to approach that conversation with empathy and an open mind. The way you react in that moment will stay with your child forever, and so if your instincts are still rooted in any form of prejudice or hate then you need to unlearn that now.

At the risk of this turning into a full on novel, I am going to wrap it up around here. There’s still a few things I have to say, but my emotional capacity is reaching its limit and I did want to stay on track with the questions my mom sent me. But I will add that I feel incredibly grateful to have a family who supports me and looks out for me. My brother Prem was privy to parts of the conversations with my parents, and has always had my back. I’m privileged to say that I can be open about my sexuality with my cousins, aunts, uncles, Nani (grandma), extended relatives and family friends, and know that they all love me just the same. Not all queer people can say they have a strong support system with their families, and I recognize how much easier I have it compared to many others. But even with my openness and privileges, I still experience many anxieties as an “out” queer person; I’m still afraid to hold the guy I’m dating’s hand in public. I have desires to dress femininely every now and then but often stop myself out of fear of being harassed. I often find myself “code-switching” and deliberately lowering the pitch of my voice when speaking to particular people or in certain environments. And of course, these could be viewed as things I don’t actually need to worry about. And I agree to an extent, these are anxieties I am working through. But they stem from early feelings of shame, guilt and fear which, through my experiences, have deeply embedded subconscious traumas which can still be triggered and manifest in the form of these anxieties.

On top of that, the world is still a scary place for queer people. Our sheer presence makes a lot of people angry, and our access to basic human rights is constantly a topic of political debate. Conversion therapy was still legal in parts of Canada up until only eight months ago. There are places all over North America with astronomical hate crime and suicide rates for queer people (especially transgender folks). Law enforcement has shown biases by failing to act on incidents with queer victims (even more so if those queer people are of racialized identities – e.g. the Bruce McArthur case in Toronto). And there are several countries all over the world where simply existing as a queer person is a criminal offence, punishable by a lifetime in prison or even death. It could be argued that general attitudes towards queer people have improved over the years, but previously overt forms of oppression continue to manifest in new ways.

And despite all of this, I love being queer. In the nine years since I opened up about my sexuality and started living my truth, I have felt so happy and free. I feel like I can authentically love myself, opening up possibilities to actually foster meaningful relationships and friendships with others. I feel a sense of belonging, within a large community with such a rich history which I am still actively learning about. I can imagine that a parent, upon hearing that their child is queer, would have many fears regarding what I mention above. However, bringing up those fears in the “coming out” conversation is far from helpful. The dark realities of the world are not exclusive to the queer community, they can exist for anyone in other ways. Generally speaking, when a child is ready to open up about their sexuality it means they have already fought immense battles introspectively. It has taken them a lot of work and courage to work up to telling it to someone out loud for the first time. In that particular moment, a child just needs to feel seen and understood. They need to know that they are loved, accepted and safe, and this is a responsibility that parents must honour to ensure their child’s ongoing happiness and health. These days we have such a wide understanding and vocabulary regarding queerness, it’s almost as if everyone will personally know at least one queer person in their life. If that person were your child, how would you react? And if the answer isn’t a positive one, what are you going to do to change it?