Opinion

Dear diary: I’m homosexual and I’m Latino

Querido diario: Soy homosexual y soy Latino

Sage Lee and Venelope Ortiz

May 1, 2025

Credit: Photo Illustration by Venelope Ortiz

We are two LGBTQ+ Latinos, we have struggled with our respective identities for most of our lives, so we are sharing our retrospective in journal-style entries so other LGBTQ+ Latinos won’t feel so alone.

Sage

Mid June, 2016

Yesterday, my mom took me to a place called OutFront, where we watched a documentary about transgender people.

I was mostly focused on the chocolate-covered strawberries sitting on a pink, blue, and white table, but I remember hearing a word – I think it was “gender liquid” or maybe “genderfluid.” As my mom and I walked out of the building that evening, I told her that I thought I was genderfluid.

Today, Mom took me to Target, and I got to shop in the boys’ clothing section. I was so excited. I looked through every rack and landed on a turquoise polo shirt with pineapples on it as well as a pair of matching cyan cargo shorts. I like this outfit because it is the perfect mix of boyish and girly.

I don’t like being a girl, but I don’t think I’m ready to be a boy. That’s why I like being genderfluid because I can just be in-between.

When we got home, Mom and I went to the bathroom with a pair of scissors, and she cut my hair to be super-short on one side and kind of long on the other. It was supposed to be two versions of me: my girl side, and my boy side.

Once Mom was done cutting my hair, I stood on the toilet lid in the bathroom to get a good look at myself in the tall mirror.

At first I was so excited. It was exactly how I imagined, but then this odd, sad emotion washed over me, and I got worried. We are going to visit Abuela and Abuelo next week, and I don’t know what they are going to think of me not being a girl.

December 13, 2019

Today is my 11th birthday. This morning I was brushing my shoulder-length hair, and I found myself admiring the pink strands within the dark brown. I hooked my favorite hoop earrings on and threw on my best pink sweater.

Every night since that day in 2016, I have dreamt of waking up with a shorter haircut and the dresses in my closet gone, but they weren’t. Most of my friends at school didn’t like me being genderfluid, so I decided I would stay a girl.

When I walked downstairs, Mom and Dad gave me warm hugs and wished a happy day to the birthday girl. I tried swallowing down the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t, so I just smiled.

When I arrived at the El Sol parking lot, I took a deep breath. I knew I’d see countless friends and teachers who would want to talk to me, who would want to tell me I looked pretty and want to call me the birthday girl.

I wasn’t wrong, so many people called me a ‘young woman’ today, the only thing left to endure was the FaceTime with Abuela and Abuelo. After a pizza dinner, the call came in on Dad’s phone like clockwork.

Before anyone could speak, the distinctive song of a ukulele in Abuelo’s hand rang in through the screen.

The call lasted another half hour, Abuela cooing over how old I looked and Abuelo ensuring I was still learning my Spanish. The conversation ended, per usual, with them calling me a wonderful granddaughter, and I felt sick to my stomach.

Early July 2024

Today, Abuelo and I were driving around, running errands. I thought it’d be the best time to tell him about my pronouns. I had the conversation planned in my head, and I psyched myself up for the moment.

I explained that I wasn’t an ‘ella’ or an ‘ello,’ that in Argentina, there’s ‘elle,’ and that’s me. Abuelo seemed to understand, but he did ask if I was a boy. I said not yet and tried to explain that I’m in between. Abuelo chuckled. He said I told him the same thing 8 years ago.

Since that conversation, Abuelo has called me ‘she’ four times today. I understand that he doesn’t get me, that he grew up in Puerto Rico in the 50s, and he’s very close-minded because of it, but I hoped he would want to change his mind for me. Maybe once I’m ready to be a boy, he won’t call me ‘she.’ Until then, I guess I’ll just have to learn to love myself.

Venelope

April 28, 2021

Sitting on my bed, the room cold and discouraging, I can feel a world of unnamed emotions finally relax. Like a burden that I have repeatedly ignored, tried solving and finally named. Today, a random Wednesday, I have found what feels like the right label for me: pansexual, the attraction to a person regardless of gender and sex.

For what has felt like months, I felt myself develop a crush on a close friend, which was odd. I always thought I was straight, although I never felt an interest in relationships.

I don’t know what to do with this. I’m still too young to want a relationship, too young to comprehend what I feel, and too young to care. At least I can go about life with another piece of myself figured out.

Early October 2022

I joined my church’s youth group. I have been trying to find new ways to help my community and become closer to my God. God has always been with me in times when all I could manage to do in a prayer was cry. I cried, reflecting on what was happening – the loss of my abuelo, and my mom’s depleting mental state while grieving for her father. On top of all of that, mom is in physical pain since breaking her forearm. I cried in the endless helplessness of my depression and the weight of wanting to be the one who could solve the issues in my family’s life. I cried with guilt, pain, and anger.

Now I finally feel as if I’m a part of something, a group of people who also find consolation in the same God who saved me.

Still, I feel unsure about one matter, my sexuality. I know that being part of the LGBTQ+ community is considered a sin in the Catholic Church, as God created men and women for each other. A part of me knows how I feel. I’m not keeping this secret anymore, but I still feel as if I’m betraying my religious beliefs. I want to give myself the same understanding and acceptance I feel for others, but I can’t. I just feel ashamed of myself.

And I haven’t been strong enough to talk to God about it: I wouldn’t even know how I could talk to him about it.

Mid-October 2023

As I hung up, my phone still in hand, and my mom drove while trying to validate my point. With one phone call, I left the youth group I have been in for over two years.

For the last few months I have felt unwelcome in the community I love. I have felt a wave of hurt. I have spent so much time and energy helping others find a place in our church, and as much as I enjoy that time and opportunity, it has become a burden.

With one phone call, my point was proven: I wasn’t a true part of that community. The stories I shared about my mental health and how it has led to my deep connection with the Lord and church were overlooked.

I explained to the youth group coordinator why I wanted to leave the group, and she told me I just needed a stronger connection with God. At that point it really hurt. I was finally over what felt like the worst part of my life, but I was full of guilt for not just my sexual orientation but for how I’ve dealt with my anger, anxiety, and depression.

After what feels like an eternity to get back home, a sudden memory pops back into my mind. One of the other coordinators for the youth group, another friend, and I were working on making jewelry to sell and raise money for our upcoming retreats. The topic of LGBTQ and the church came up in our discussion. Could they co-exist? The coordinator paused before I remembered him answering.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it, it’s just love. Of course, the church sees it differently.”

I found that comforting, in a way. Not separating love from God, but finding that being queer is not inherently wrong, but because of our religion, it’s seen as just different.

In a world where things are changing, it can be hard to accept yourself with conflicting ideologies, so it’s important to learn to give yourself grace and conform to your own standards. Everyone is on their own unique journey of self-acceptance. Venelope is still learning to embrace herself for her identity. Sage’s Abuelo has been more supportive than ever, letting Sage continue his transition. Families may not always be accepting, labels may not always be clear, but one certainty remains true above all else: you deserve to live as your genuine self.

About the Contributors

Sage Lee, Opinion Editor

Hey! I’m Sage! I’m currently a sophomore and this trimester is my first in Knight Life. I decided to join the newspaper because I enjoy writing and I strive to make a difference in our communities. In my free time, I like pottery and illustrating my web-comic, so you’ll often see me hunched over my drawing tablet or sketchbook.

Pronouns: he/him

Venelope Ortiz, Tower Talk Editor

Hi, I’m Venelope Ortiz, the Tower Talk Editor on Knight Life. I joined my junior year because I wanted to be more involved with the school and what goes on, as well as write more about the Latino/Hispanic community. In my free time I enjoy drawing, singing and reading. Pronouns: she/her

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Jillian • May 9, 2025 at 5:15 pm

¡Guau! ¡Estoy impresionada mucho con esta historia! Se necesita mucho coraje publicar algo así. Les deseo a ambos buena suerte en sus vidas


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