For Singapore. Forever ago.

I was in a one-on-one with a team member and his wife walks in to deliver his lunch, so I told him Dan usually doesn’t cook. “Who’s Dan? Your roommate?” “My husband.” I met up with an old friend – colleague for dinner. The last time we met was pre-pandemic/pre-wedding. And we talked about married life. He’s a straight man and an immigrant from Mexico. 

The thing about coming out is you do it over and over and over again. And if you are lucky, like me, you don’t think much about it every time you have to do it. 

I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since I left Singapore. It was a big chapter in my life, not only because it was a large part of my early adulthood, but it also marks the first, and darkest part, of my mental health, my identity, and my work. I can almost remember vividly the stress, the shame, and the fear that one has to live in a country when a normal act of being with another human being is both socially and criminally judged. I can remember the feeling that people like me are told we are good contributing members of society, as long as you keep working hard, keeping your head low, and don’t discuss who you are if you are not part of the norm. It opens up the people for a lot of abuse, internalized homophobia, and even open the community up to scammers and abuse. 

I’m sure things have gotten better since. I have gotten a lot older, a little bit wiser, and more confident, since. I wonder how much of it is because I didn’t have to hide anymore. I wonder how much of my life growth and career growth is because I am free, a bit from the judgement of others, but mostly from the judgement of myself. 

People do 10-year-challenge on social media as a form of showing off how well they’ve aged. To be honest, at 37, my joy looks very different now. My stress and anxiety look very different too (and I would argue I’m a bit better equipped at dealing with them). 

People know me in my 20s would probably remember me as a loud, joyful person. And I was. People who know me now would probably think of me as a loud, joyful person. And I am. So it’s incredibly poignant to me that someone that many people know as joyful can have so much fear, anxiety, depression, just simply because of who they are. 

For that I am forever grateful. I am one of those lucky very few people who have the opportunity and the privilege to be authentic in a world that so often rejects us. I know calling it “lucky” diminishes the resiliency, the energy, and the injustice that have been brought upon to people like me. But I didn’t want to not acknowledge that it wasn’t just strength alone that got me here. I am forever grateful to my friends, my mentors, my co workers, and the kindness of strangers and pioneers in this space that have fought for us to be here. 

I am just grateful to be here. Yet, I am grateful for Singapore, forever ago, no matter how tough that was, for equipping me with what was needed to be here today.