Leow Yangfa - I Will Survive: Personal gay, lesbian, bisexual & transgender stories in Singapore

i will survive

personal gay, lesbian,

bisexual & transgender

stories in Singapore

leow yangfa

Contents

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the cherished memory of the late Ms Mary Mathew and Mr Anthony Yeo, who between them have touched countless souls through their years of helping others. They would have understood what this book meant to people, and are dearly missed by the editor.

Foreword by Juliana Toh

Reading the personal journeys in this collection of real-life stories struck a deep chord within me. Why would anyone choose to be gay?

I was left thinking how difficult and lonely it is to be gay and live a life of invisibility. There exists a double-glazed wall of shame and discrimination; sometimes with hostility and often with rejection. The journey to self acceptance and quiet confidence seems to be one of travelling down an abyss, fraught with uncertainty, loneliness and fear.

I was left thinking how, regardless of sexual orientation, at one point or time in our lives, we had been on the other side of being discriminated against; made to feel ashamed for not being intelligent enough, not being in a better school, or a better class; for being divorced, not from an intact family, or having parents who were divorced; for not being taller, prettier, better-looking; sometimes for just being.

I was left thinking, how we are all searching for a similar purpose and meaning of life and living; that is, to be in a life-giving relationship where there is affirmation and validation, where there is respect and love; where one can safely put ones heart in the hands of another, trusting that it would be cared for with tenderness and respect.

I was left thinking that the common thread that weaved through the stories was how relationships are double-edged swords. It is through relationships that we create and build a sense of identity and self; it is also through relationships that our identity and sense of self might be hurt and sometimes demolished.

I was left thinking how in lifes darkest moments, when one is told he is HIV- positive, the very relationship where one looks to for acceptance and support, is also the very relationship where one can experience abandonment.

I was left thinking of Henri Nouwens book Reaching Out, where relationships are viewed as contexts for the creation of hospitable experiences. When I think of hospitable experiences, I think of times when I can be the person comfortable under my own skin without having to be concerned with what others might think or say. I was neither watchful nor hiding aspects of myself which I thought might bring embarrassment to myself or others. I felt respected for the person that I am. This emotional freedom allowed me to be attentive and present for others. When I was less concerned about hiding, I was more present for others and for myself.

I was left thinking how we as part of the human race and out of humanity can create a hospitable environment where our fellow sojourners can be respected, cared for, nurtured, made to feel comfortable; where they can rest their weary souls and take comfort; and when the time comes for our guests to leave, they will leave while in a better place emotionally, with confidence, dignity and visibility; having experienced love and care; a safe space to be.

I was left thinking how a hospitable relationship could be between mother and child, where the child comes out to her, telling her for the first time that he is gay. He experiences understanding and a safe space where both could hear and be heard; where his mother could speak of her concerns and sadness and where he could speak of his journey and offer of assurances. The relationship could be between one and a Higher Being where the same acceptance and love can be experienced without condemnation.

I was left thinking of the man who, despite his own illness and near mortality, availed himself for another who was contemplating ending his life. The man provided a hospitable space for him to seek warmth and comfort. He was allowed to be himself, expressing the painful anguish of having been rejected by his mother, and flooded with thoughts of ending his life. The safe space created by the hospitable act made him feel cared for and that life was worth living because he mattered. Someone cared enough to open the doors to embrace him. Such is the strength of relationships it can both give life and take life.

I was left thinking about how I could be a hospitable host and give to others what I had received and am still receiving as a guest: peace of mind, respect and a space to be who I am.

Above all, I was left thinking of the most humane gift we can give to another the space to be oneself.

Juliana Toh is the Executive Director of Counselling and Care Centre and has been practising as a family therapist for over 20 years, during which she has worked with clients who are gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender, and their families. Juliana is also a consultant and trainer to numerous social service professionals and agencies, and is currently an advisor to Oogachaga Counselling and Support and a consultant and board member for Samaritans of Singapore.

Introduction

Anonymous [adjective]. Of unknown identity, thus allowing people relative safety in revealing personal history and feelings without fear of later embarrassment or consequences.

Not all gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender people are the same. Everyone has a different story to tell. Often it is a personal story filled with real-life experiences despite, or maybe because of, the fact that they are different from the people around them. This book collects some of these stories shared with me by extraordinary individuals, mostly under assurance of anonymity.

When I was invited by Ng Yi-Sheng to contribute to his book SQ21: Singapore Queers in the 21st century, I was already out as a gay man to my family, had many supportive friends and was very open to the idea of being part of a project that put real names and faces to ordinary lesbian, gay and bisexual people in Singapore. Having just turned 30 then, I was also looking back on a life that had been relatively smooth but for a handful of creases.

Five years on, Ive became even more aware that not every gay person is like me. Or at least, even if they were a bit like me, their life journeys were very different from mine. For every publicly featured person in SQ21, I realised there were many more out there who had led very different lives. These are individuals not yet ready to be visible, preferring to keep their faces unseen even as they want their stories to be heard.

While on holiday in March 2009, I received a text message from a friend who informed that a young gay man we both knew had just killed himself a few days before his own birthday. It was extremely hard for me to know how to react to this shocking news, given my personal experience and professional background. As a gay man who had formerly contemplated suicide as a teen, and with my training in social work, it felt as if it was all coming a little too close to home.

Either through sheer coincidence or synchronicity, several hours earlier I had come across and bought the publication Crisis: 40 stories revealing the personal, social, and religious pain and trauma of growing up gay in America by Mitchell Gold. Drawing inspiration from those stories, and subsequently those from Dan Savages It Gets Better project and Nathan Manskes Im From Driftwood blog, perhaps this book is my own response to the death of a gay youth, as well as the countless tragedies of others like him. I felt a need to gather and document what I thought I had always known. More than anyone else, gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgender people, in addition to dealing with coming out and coming to terms with their own identities, also face numerous other issues in their everyday lives. I was curious to know how such individuals in Singapore coped and maybe thrived amidst their personal crises.