“You know, with people like Leah around, you don’t really need to have someone like Rex in your life,” said Kaelyn, tentatively. “Leah seems a lot more level-headed.”
I knew Kaelyn was right. Suddenly I could see how truly harmful my friendship with Rex was, and how weird and twisted it had become. Rex had made me dislike parts of myself that I hadn’t worried about since I was seventeen. It was time I cut the ties. Friends should lift you up, not pull you down.
And so, Rex and I drifted apart. It was difficult to walk away from the only real friend I’d made at university so far, but I knew it was for the best. I tried to stay positive, but it was tough. I felt lonely and scared, made worse by the fact that Kaelyn had to leave at the end of April to go back to America. Dropping her off at the airport was even more heartbreaking than before. I’d hoped saying goodbye would get easier as time went on. It didn’t.
The only thing keeping me going was my editing work. Kaelyn and I had decided to turn making montage videos of each of our trips into a little tradition. Being able to look back on all the adventures we’d had kept us going until the next time we saw each other. These little “films” helped to remind us that when we were together, nothing could stop us.
Once I’d finished editing our “April 2012” adventures, I uploaded it to YouTube, thinking nothing of it. We watched it together over Skype, trying to hold back our tears as we reminisced about what a wonderful trip it had been. We were so proud of how far we’d come.
When I woke up the next morning, I decided to log on to YouTube and watch the video one more time. But as the page loaded, I saw something that made my heart stop. The stat counter at the bottom of the page had sky-rocketed. The video had been viewed over 10,000 times! I scrolled down, open mouthed, and saw that we’d been left hundreds of new comments:
“You guys are seriously the cutest couple I have ever seen, and I hope that one day I can be as happy with someone as you two are. Thank you for your videos.”
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“You guys give me so much hope,” another comment read. “Seeing the extraordinary love you two share, and the distance you’ve overcome? It makes me believe that my girlfriend and I can overcome homophobic parents and the horrors of high school. So thank you, thank you so much.”
A few people had watched our videos before, but never this many. I was speechless. I couldn’t believe that a twenty-minute montage video of two girls going out to eat at restaurants and making coffee together in the kitchen was helping people feel OK about themselves. Everyone was being so supportive, willing us on until our next trip together, telling us that we could make it and that they would be behind us all the way.
“I just feel so happy, proud and touched by this video. I wanted to thank you for proving to us that we are not alone! Keep on living this dream. You’ll see each other again soon.”
Kaelyn was just as surprised as I was. We were bewildered, but very flattered. It felt amazing to know that we had been able to help so many people just by being our weird, goofy selves.
“I feel like we should keep posting videos to this channel,” Kaelyn said. “If we can make a tiny difference to all these people, then I don’t see why not.”
I agreed. “We could turn it into a little platform for LGBT people. Like a community kind of thing!”
A few weeks later, we decided to film our Coming Out stories. They were incredibly personal to us, yet people seemed to relate to them. Everyone was sharing their own stories in the comments section, giving advice to one another and offering up words of wisdom and support. It was incredible to read about what people were going through and what they had overcome.
This was our chance to make a difference.
It was my last night in Plymouth before the summer holidays began. I had the house to myself – everyone else had already left. As I cooked my dinner, I put on some John Mayer, turning the volume up to maximum, singing at the top of my lungs, dancing around the kitchen, miming into a spatula.
Sometimes things don’t always go to plan, but that doesn’t mean that life is terrible. My first year at university had been one of the toughest years of my life – but my struggles had allowed me to revamp everything I thought I knew about myself, and change for the better. Even if things weren’t going my way, I had enough love and support from my friends and family to keep me going. I was independent, brave, and more confident and happy with myself than I had ever been.
My dad would be arriving the next day to take me home for the summer. As I was packing up all my things into boxes later that evening, folding sheets and pillowcases and taking down my posters, I kept turning that one J.K. Rowling quote over and over in my mind.
I’d been at rock bottom, but had slowly realized that my only way out was to use the rocks around me to rebuild the steps and get back up again.
I hadn’t been back to America since my trip with Becci and Clare, but now the summer holidays were here, I was finally on my way to visit Kaelyn in Michigan, her home town. I was nervous: I was going to meet her family for the first time!
I needn’t have worried – they made me feel at ease instantly. We explored the local town together, walked Kaelyn’s dogs in the park, and drank cocktails in the sunshine on her balcony. It struck me once again how different America was to anything I’d known before. Michigan was beautiful, much greener than I remember California being, and Kaelyn and I talked about living there one day before eventually moving to England for good and raising a family. It was exciting to talk about the future together.
Whenever I was with Kaelyn, it was as if all my worries and anxieties were put on hold. We were in a little bubble where nobody could touch us, and saying goodbye was like crashing back down to earth. Each time we left each other, the bubble would burst, and it ripped my heart to shreds.
When I uploaded “August 2012” to YouTube later on that week, we received a flurry of support. The video hit 100,000 views in just a few days, and we were completely blown away by the sudden surge in interest. The emotional endings to our videos, where we said goodbye to each other at the airport, seemed to strike a particular chord with people. They loved being able to count down with us until our next trip, spurring us on with messages of love and support.
We felt a sense of pressure, now that we had a fairly large viewership, to act a certain way. People started writing to us, telling us that we were their role models – something we just could not wrap our heads around – and it was terrifying to know that there were people out there who looked up to us even though we’d never met them. One particular letter we received was from a nine-year-old girl in Kansas, which simply read: “If you two break up, I’ll never believe in love again.” I was horrified. I didn’t want anyone to base their idea of what love should be on my relationship alone. Suddenly, we had a huge weight of responsibility on our shoulders.
Neither Kaelyn nor I could figure out what made us so special. We were just two girls having fun, sharing little snippets of our lives online. And although the idea of being a role model was a strange one, as we didn’t feel like we’d done anything particularly outstanding, we knew that all we could do was to try and be the best possible versions of ourselves, and stay true to what we believed in.
People were sending us letters from all over the world, and we made a point of writing back to everyone, no matter how long it took. It felt wonderful to read such kind-hearted messages of support, but every now and then, we’d receive a letter that would send shivers down my spine. A twenty-three-year-old girl living in Russia had snuck into her local library in the dead of night to write to us, terrified that her parents would find the letter if she wrote it at home. She told us that when she’d plucked up the courage to come out to her best friend, her friend had told her that she was disgusting and was going to hell. “People like me can get killed here for being who we are,” she wrote. “Sometimes I’m scared for my life.”
One morning, a brown paper package wrapped up tightl
y with string arrived all the way from Saudi Arabia. The girl who’d written it had asked someone to smuggle the letter out of the country for her, for fear that customs would open it, read that she was gay, and have her killed. She told us that she’d attempted suicide twice, and that our videos were the only thing that kept her going. “Your videos keep me strong when I don’t think I can make it any more. I watch them in the dead of night. Thank you for giving me hope that things will get better for me.” I stared at the page with shaking hands, stunned, trying not to cry. I was entirely lost for words.
It was chilling. The things I was reading in those letters went so far beyond my own extremely sheltered experiences. I was astonished by the sheer strength, bravery and courage that people showed, despite their devastating circumstances. It was truly humbling to read their words. Their stories opened my eyes to the world, and showed me what was beyond the walls of my own privileged existence.
And then, one afternoon, by some strange yet wonderful twist of fate, Chely Wright stumbled across my Coming Out story on YouTube. The same Chely Wright who had been on the Ellen Show. The same Chely Wright whom seventeen-year-old me had been inspired by that warm summer evening all those years ago.
She tweeted me:
“Hi Lucy. I want you to know how deeply touched I was as I watched your video this morning. Knowing that you were out there, and that you heard me on Ellen’s show, well – it made me cry tears of joy. And now, seeing you passing the torch to others is just exactly the way it should work. You are a beacon of hope and light for so many. Your fan, Chely xo.”
I burst into tears. I was speechless. How she had found it, I didn’t know – but it seemed like everything had come full circle, and I was completely overwhelmed. This woman had helped me accept myself for who I was … and now she was congratulating me, for what I had achieved.
I felt so happy as I went to bed that night. Sometimes, life has a funny way of making sure things fall into place.
By September, after a summer of hanging out with my family and my old friends, I was beginning to really look forward to going back to Plymouth. I’d been talking to Leah all summer, and I was so excited to see her again. I’d also moved into a new house; number 115 Mount Gould Road. Grace had moved in with me, along with a guy named Phil, from Northern Ireland – who turned out to be one of the funniest people I’d ever met. Within twenty minutes, we were laughing like we’d known each other for years. Phil and Leah quickly became my closest friends at university. On evenings when we weren’t working, we would hang out at one of our favourite haunts, the Caffeine Club, which sold monster milkshakes topped with whipped cream and chocolate pieces, and giant burgers the size of our faces.
I threw myself head first into my second year at university. I started working on commissions and taking on extra projects, and I began to feel really proud of the work I was producing. I made several short documentaries, wrote two full screenplays, and managed another year of “firsts”. I had found my niche, and I loved the creativity that came with making a film from start to finish. I couldn’t believe how much easier things were when I was doing something I cared about, surrounded by people who were right for me.
I was finally comfortable and happy with where I was headed.
Of course, no matter where you’re headed in life, you’re always going to come across people who are determined to bring you down.
One afternoon, during our lunch break, a guy from my course named Karl sauntered up to me with a smirk.
“Yo. I saw your video.”
“What video?” I said, intrigued.
“Your Coming Out video on YouTube. One million views, huh?”
“Oh! Yeah. I can’t believe that many people have seen it!”
“So you’re gay then?” he said, his eyes narrowing, holding my gaze.
I shifted on my feet nervously. “Yeah, I am.” I looked him dead in the eye, preparing for the worst.
There was a long pause. “What a waste, man.” He stared at me, unblinking, waiting for a reaction.
I raised one eyebrow. I wasn’t going to get angry. Rex had prepared me for this: I had my comebacks down to a tee. “That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?” I said, calmly. “I mean, how do you think that makes me feel? To be told I’m waste?”
“I’m not trying to offend you, man. I’m just saying. You chose the wrong path.”
“I didn’t choose this, any more than you chose to be straight, Karl.”
“Whatever, dude. It’s just such a waste. Give me time and I can make you straight.”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter. I couldn’t believe how ignorant and insecure he sounded. It takes a certain type of person to try and provoke others for their own sordid enjoyment. I turned and left the room, smiling.
Over the summer, I attended Chicago Pride with Kaelyn. We spent the day marching through Chicago surrounded by thousands of other like-minded people, cheering and whooping. As we walked the city streets hand in hand, I suddenly noticed how ‘normal’ it felt. Having spent years feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb, it was incredible to feel like I now fit. The fact that I was different was no longer a big deal.
People like Karl were old news. I was so happy and comfortable with myself that nothing anyone could say about my sexuality was going to get to me any more. It had taken me a long time to be OK with labelling myself as gay and being out and proud about it, and now, nothing could change that.
We had been planning something huge for our YouTube viewers for a while now. We’d just hit 15 million views, and to celebrate, we decided to hold a meet-up, where people could come and hang out with others in the LGBT community in a safe environment, get to know each other, and dissolve the feeling of isolation that so many people experience when they’re coming to terms with who they are.
We held the event in London, and six hundred people turned up. I hugged each and every one of them, took photos with every single one of them, and shared stories and advice. It was the most wonderful, heart-warming experience. Later on in the day, a girl came up to us, crying, thanking us for giving her a space where she could feel comfortable, happy and be honest about her sexuality for the first time, without having to worry about receiving backlash or nasty comments.
“You and Kaelyn are my ultimate role models,” she smiled, wiping away her tears. “You make me feel so much better, just by existing. I know that sounds silly, but it’s true. The world needs more people like you two – just normal people living their lives, who just happen to be gay. Thank you.”
I wanted to cry. I was so flattered and overwhelmed. I’d never imagined that the struggles I’d had with my own sexuality would lead to something like this. I thought about what seventeen-year-old Lucy would have said, if she could see me now. I knew she would be so proud.
A few weeks later, Diva magazine asked Kaelyn and me if we wanted to be on their next cover, alongside two of our best friends, Whitney and Megan, who also made YouTube videos. Whitney was from America and Megan was from England, and we had so much in common with them. They’d been a long-distance couple, too, before finally closing the gap and moving in together in 2012, before having their civil partnership later on that year.
The cover shoot was so surreal. We had our hair and make-up done by professionals, and spent all afternoon shooting, trying on dozens of different outfits. It felt very empowering to be in a room full of such successful, hard-working women who were so talented at their jobs. We were still getting used to the idea of being asked to give interviews for magazines – and being on the cover of one felt even stranger.
We were amazed at how many opportunities simply being on YouTube had presented to us. Companies were now asking us to help promote their products, and started sending us all kinds of weird and wonderful things: pink hair extensions made from sheep’s wool, stuffed dolls made to look exactly like us, and a strange selection of miniature garden gnomes…
What amazed us even more was how many wonderful people we w
ere meeting. We had met Whitney and Megan online, but we quickly became fantastic friends beyond the realms of YouTube. We had so much in common, and they were always there for us. They’d been through a long-distance relationship and had come out the other side stronger than ever, so they knew exactly what it felt like.
“Distance is always worth it when you’re in love,” I remember Whitney saying to us once. “I mean, you’d have to be mad to assume that your soulmate lives ten minutes down the road from you!”
When Kaelyn and I were finding the separation tough, they’d always be there to cheer us on, sending us little letters and packages to help keep us going. “You can do it, girls,” they’d say. “Just a few more months until you see each other again!”
As time passed, we started getting to know some other members of the YouTube community. We became really close with Katy and Eilis, a long-distance couple from Scotland. They were some of the funniest, smartest people we had ever met, and pretty soon we were texting back and forth every day, swapping hilarious stories and sharing advice with one another. We also got to know Jelly and Day, a couple from Texas, who had the most wonderful sense of humour and were so genuine and supportive. A whole new world had been opened up to us, and it was amazing to listen and learn about what these people had been through and how they had overcome their struggles. It was even more amazing to watch them do their bit for the LGBT community, giving out advice and offering up support. Hearing their stories had opened my eyes to how far we still have to go until we reach true equality, and I vowed right then and there to be the best possible role model I could be.
My last year of university was coming to an end. Leah and I had just finished our final major project, and we had come to Maritimo’s, our favourite tapas bar, to celebrate.
We sat outside on the restaurant patio by the seafront. The sun was setting, and the sky was a deep, fiery pink. It was peaceful, but it was also sad. I couldn’t believe how fast the year had gone.
Girl Hearts Girl Page 12
