Happy To Be Me

I wish I had the courage to wear this shirt when I was a little boy.

I wish I had the courage to wear this shirt when I was a little boy.

Here is a chilling biographical poem I found I wrote a few years back.

Happy To Be Me

I couldn’t wait till I turned five
That’s the age my mom said
I was old enough to start
Dance classes
I loved to tap my feet
I did not care that I was
the only boy in the chorus line
Flap, ball-change,
Step, step
I was happy
To be me

I started singing at the age of two
I knew then this is what I loved to do
I took center stage
And I’d captivate all attention
I was sharing my
Deepest passion
The voice of my soul
My audience was the congregation
The songs about God’s love
My parents were very proud of me

While in the third grade I had
My chance to be in the spotlight
In a talent show I donned a hat of straw
and sang and tapped a little routine.
I really believed that the grey skies
Were going to clear for me that day.
I thought I did well
I wasn’t nervous at all
Or so it appeared
The boys that bullied reacted
In a way that was worse
Than I could have ever feared
Punch the fag
Kick, kick
It was scary
To be me

Most of my free time I spent
watching TV, while the other boys
played with toy soldiers and matchbox cars.
There wasn’t a musical I wouldn’t see
My two favorite things in life
Song and Dance
Put together to tell a story
The Sound of Music, Royal Wedding
I wanted to sing like Julie Andrews
I prayed that I’d one day dance
Like Fred Estaire.
Emotions set to song
The passion within grew strong
This is where I would belong
Yet I started to become aware
Of the pretty men I’d often stare
The bullies said “the word”
Now its meaning was being heard
And Anita Bryant concurred
The God I sang about so joyfully
Was about to disown me
Repent, make a change
Kneel, kneel
It was shameful to be me.

I became afraid to dance
I heard some said it was immoral
My family thought it was cool
I was insecure about what
The boys said at school
And confused by their mad up rule
Because I danced I was a homo
And that was bad
I didn’t want to make God sad
So I vowed to only sing for Him
And never dance again
Yet my desires grew stronger for men
As did my devotion
To the addiction of sin
Shuffle step
Turn, turn
Suddenly there were
Two of me.

Though still a boy
I thought I could act like a man
Feeling inferior was an every day plan
With my voice I was respected
But by the church I knew
I would be rejected if anyone
Would catch a glimpse
Of the other me. I spent hours
In public places, looking to meet
The eye of the men without faces
If I performed good enough for them
They’d validate my insecurity
That God had abandoned me.

Now I am grown and it is easy to say
“If only I had known”
I wouldn’t have taken the abuse
From the bullies
Or the perverts who should have
Turned me away. But the child
Is through casting blame
Reclaiming the power
A victim no more.
God is not to blame and I no longer
Feel the shame when I dance and sing.
Flap, ball-change
With every step
I am happy that my life’s
Experiences have set free
The man I was born to be.

Thank you God,
I’m happy to be me.

_________________________
Skip Sams is a composer, multi-media producer and success coach. He is passionate about helping people reconcile their sexuality and spirituality. For more info email skip@skipsams.com

On November 30th, 2015, posted in: Aha Revelations, Creative Writing by
One Response to Happy To Be Me
  1. My Dear Friend,
    I remember the pain, as adults in our young 20’s we sat and would talk about our problems, our inferiororities, our broken hearts! How wonderful it was to grow out of all the pain, though ours were different, it never mattered. We buried ourselves for many years but we finally broke through and saw what our Paths were and even though they led us in different directions……. I’m proud to know you and so proud of the man you are today. You are one of the Dearest Friends I’ll always have…. It been 30 yrs now or more! You helped raise my son, whom you are friends with still! How wonderful life has turned out for each of us. Pain was part of the process but we learned and we grew from the hate of others. Little did we know then! That life would end up so wonderful for you, myself and Rick! Your poem brought tears to my eyes but good tears! I love you Skip…….. Always Your Friend, Kathy

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