Back from the Edge: How Community Saved My Life

As I prepare to volunteer with Trevor Project’s Lifeguard program, I’ve been thinking about what I would say if a teen asked me: “What is the secret to getting through tough times and believing that ‘It Gets Better?’” I can look back on 3 distinct times in my life when I was “at risk,” and my answer would be this: Community.

Community: a group of people who have the same interests, religion, race, etc. (www.merriam-webster.com) The word "community" is derived from the Old French communité which is derived from the Latin communitas (com, "with/together" + munus, "gift"), a broad term for fellowship or organized society. (Wikipedia.com) I like to think of Community as a group of people, united by some shared interest or common thread, who share their gifts with each other!

In Junior High, I began to have suicidal thoughts. I was a closeted homosexual who felt isolated and believed that nobody around me could understand my struggle. Worse, I didn’t believe anyone would love me if they knew that I struggled with this “sin.” I tried to date girls and play sports, and act like everyone else, but everyone knew I was different. Kids at school teased me and called me “girly-mon,” after the SNL character. I sat alone at lunch. Until a small group of band geeks began to form a community. We were nerds: smart kids, band and choir geeks, teachers’ pets. But we sat together at lunch, worked on school projects together, gave ourselves a name: “The Dumowadgies,” (something like “whatchamacallit,”) and created a community based on our shared set of values. We created a safe space to be ourselves. We stayed up late geeking out over Ella Fitzgerald or skinny-dipping in my backyard. Though I never had the courage to share my inner struggle with homosexuality, I knew that I was loved, that there were people who accepted me nerdy tendencies and all. And it made a world of difference. This community of geeks saved my life.

At the end of my 2^nd year of grad school, I was exhausted from fighting against my homosexuality. I started the coming out process by dating a cute boy at school, who dumped me, saying that I wasn’t comfortable enough with my sexuality. I was nervous to turn my back on the church that said I was going to hell for being myself. I didn’t know where to turn or who to trust. Though I wasn’t suicidal, I was again at risk for loneliness, isolation, disconnection. I could’ve been lead down any number of negative paths. Until I joined a production of Crazy for You at The Toledo Repertoire Theater, and I met my first gay-affirming community. The men (gay and straight) and women in that production took me under their wing and showed me so much unconditional love that I hadn’t expected to find in the “gay community.” They took me to my first gay bar, invited me to all their pool parties, had me play the piano for sing-alongs, and introduced me to Drop Dead Gorgeous, still my favorite movie. We played cards and drank late into the night, and I felt I belonged. I felt connected, loved, worthy. These theater geeks saved my life.

Last fall in NYC, I was at a crossroads. I’d broken up with my boyfriend of 7 months, my best friend was moving out of town, I was bored at work, I didn’t have any great singing gigs on the horizon, and I was missing my friends and my old city, Chicago. I wasn’t taking care of myself, I was lonely, and I thought maybe it was time to give up on NYC and move back to Chicago. That’s when I signed up for “Snatched in 6 Weeks” at Mark Fisher Fitness. In six weeks, I tackled some deep-seated self-loathing, body image issues, and willpower challenges alongside some of the most beautiful, courageous people I’ve ever met. The trainers and Ninjas (MFF members) encouraged me, embraced me, and congratulated me when, to my surprise, I won the 6-week before/after photo challenge. I shared my story and began to connect with those who had gone before. I started taking class regularly at MFF, and I have continued to have connecting conversations, potlucks, and movie dates with more of these amazing, beautiful, courageous people! This community, where I feel such connection, has literally brought me back from an edge of loneliness and disconnection and saved my life, in a different way.

Me and my 7am Ninjas 

When we come to see our everyday struggles with loneliness, body image, sexuality, self loathing, overeating, and all kinds of other issues as something that other people face; when we understand that we are not alone; when we can share our stories with the people around us and be met with empathy, compassion, and understanding, that is Community. When we feel loved and connected, we are stronger and more resilient, and we don’t need to be “at risk” or “on the edge.” We are all worthy of this love and connection, but it is not easy to find and cultivate. We need to seek it out, and like a tiny plant in a garden, we need to feed it, water it, and protect it from predators.

Where is your Community? Where can you build a new one? Do you let people in so that they can support you? Are you someone that people can come to when they are vulnerable? I encourage you to find Community in unexpected places, like I have at a “gym.”Community may save your life; time and time again it has saved mine.