In the beginning, there were…not so many words.

I was born into a loving family. They taught me the best they knew how, they loved me to the best of their ability, and they tried to show me how to be a good person. I like to think they succeed, for the most part.

Unfortunately they were trying to raise a daughter into a woman. And while I tried–god knows I tried–I was never going to be that woman or that daughter. Not that I really understood that, growing up. For years all I had was an unnameable sense that something was not right.

It is probably on the top of my list, when I finally find the TARDIS (and the tenth Doctor), to go back and explain to my younger self what the hell was going on in my head. I didn’t know there were words, names, to explain that huge gap between who I was and what everyone said I should be. I felt flawed and broken.

Do you know what it is like to feel a failure at something so basic? I felt like I had overslept one day and accidentally flunked out of humanity. And while I now find society’s insistence on ‘traditional’ gender roles a bunch of BS, back then it was the only words they had given me.

To me it seemed there was nothing so basic to humanity as men and women.

But if I couldn’t be a man…

And didn’t want to be a woman…

Then what the fuck was I?

Well, I know what words my church would have used…

I remember constantly having these dreams when I was growing up. Dreams where I was a guy, and I was happy, and everything fit–then waking up and crying because it was not real. Then the guilt would come–because good christian girls do not want things like that. They do not feel angry and lost and betrayed because their god must have seriously fucked something up.

Even after I walked away from my faith, afraid if I stayed the guilt and frustration would end up killing me, I did not have the words for who I was. Even as I went to university, learned that challenging my beliefs and testing them was a good thing, I did not have the words. When I read my first gay romance story and fell in love with a book, an author, and an amazing community…there was still something missing.

Had I been like my older sister, a transgender woman, maybe it would have been easier to see who I really was. At least that was somewhat represented in the gay romance community. Granted, back then they hardly got more than a supporting role, but at least they were there.

But me? I didn’t see anything like who I was. Something that I could point to and say: that’s it, those are my words.

And then I was asked to review Rainbow Briefs, a collection of LGBTQ+ short stories written by Kira Harp (otherwise known as Kaje Harper when she is not wearing her YA hat). Little did I know how my life was going to change, because buried in this collection of short stories is Designing Sam…a story of a transgender teen, who only wants the world to see him as the gay man he is.

I cried for half an hour. Full on wookie-tears. It was rather unsightly.

I wasn’t crying because the story was sad or the poor dude was being forced into a dress against his wishes, but because finally, finally, there it was. There I was. And holy fuck was it beautiful.

I never got to tell Kaje Harper what that story really meant to me. I was too afraid of this newfound knowledge to talk about it. I wasn’t there yet. But I always wanted to thank her. Her and the many other authors I have read since that made me see that I was not an abomination, that I was not nameless or unlovable.

They gave me words.

For a guy who has lived over two decades of his life not even knowing those words were possible, let alone beautiful, it was a gift. One I don’t know how to repay. Except maybe to hope that one day, if I am lucky, my words will help someone else in finding their own.

It took me a rather long time to find my words. Longer still for me to have the courage to use them. And someday my words might change, but I’m ok with that. I’ll just find new ones. Because there are so many words out there, and now that people are actually talking about them, then maybe my, and other people’s, searches won’t have to be so painful.

But for now, here are my words:

My name is Chris. I go by he/him/his..and, because this is Cali, dude. I have been reviewing books for this blog for almost exactly two wonderful years. I am a son to my mother, and a brother to my siblings. I love hockey and rain showers. I am owned by two cats. I am also a transgender man (though I honestly prefer the term queer), and a gay one to boot.

I am happy. Finally.

And those are the best words yet.

Octorber 11th is National Coming Out Day

There are several reasons I chose today to come out. Most of them have the word ‘procrastination’ in them somewhere, but the biggest one is perhaps the idea that leaving behind the closet is something to celebrate. And despite my abysmal track record with throwing parties, even I know the good ones always involve other people.

While I have come out to my family and some of my friends over the last couple months, I also felt the desire to share this with the people who have helped shape me in some completely unexpected ways over the last three or so years.

I never set out to find a community and a group of awesome friends when I picked up my first m/m novel. I never expected to find a place that fit me so well, or challenged me so much. To everyone I have gotten to know over the last few years, I must offer my sincerest thanks and gratitude. You gave me a place to be myself, never judging me, never running away when I got a bit weird. You helped me learn to be brave. You shared your stories with me, whether they were in books, or just personal anecdotes. And you listened when I had something to share right back.

There are a lot of reasons to come out, just as there are a lot of reasons to not come out. Last year I was not ready. This year I am. Who the hell knows what the next year will bring.

As I have sat and read the multiple post going out for Queer Romance Month (and if you have not been reading along as well…why the hell not?!) I have been struck with how many stories sound like my own. I doubt my story is as eloquently written as some of the ones that had me in tears over the last few days, but I have this hope that perhaps someone else can find this post even a fraction as useful as I have found others.

So, yeah. Today is national coming out day. I don’t know if there is anyone reading this with something to say, but I want you to remember that your story matters. No matter how you choose to tell it. And if you are willing, I’d love to hear.

Chris has been reviewing for Love Bytes for two years. Though previously going by Carissa, Chris is happy to finally be an out and proud queer gay man. When he is not reading (and even sometimes when he is) he enjoys watching the San Jose Sharks kill the L.A. Kings, alphabetizing his spreadsheets, and convincing his two cats that taking over the world will have to wait till after he finishes the next chapter.

He can be found on Twitter @N_Cog_Neat_O.