My father told me I used to be the biggest yapper in the world.

I was unapologetic about expressing myself, even if I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I loved running around the hallways in my elementary school, and I was a troublemaker. I would be the one talking, annoyingly, during nap time.

After watching RuPaul’s Drag Race in eighth grade, I instantly wanted to be a drag queen. Their confidence, their duck walks, their effortless vogue performances: they were everything I wanted to be and more. My drag name? Annihilator.

Okay… so maybe not the best. But I was like thirteen, cut me some slack (no offense to any drag queens out there named Annihilator!).

As a natural people person, I was excited to make new friends at my middle school in Michigan that I had just moved to. With my classmates, I wanted to wear absurdly high heels, put on extravagant makeup, and finish off the day with performances and lip sync battles.

I, of course, talked about my love for drag extensively during the first few weeks of eighth grade. It was my fun fact during icebreakers, and I would (quite awfully) vogue in the hallways. However, I quickly learned that my classmates and my school as a whole were not open to this at all. Saying the word “slay” was like a death sentence, and I realized that feminity wasn’t my duty to embody. (The biggest culture shock I had was when I realized that wearing flannels was “too feminine.” I think I still have my flannels in my home back in Minnesota, but I haven’t worn them in ages.)

So, as a natural people person, I started changing my persona. My “passions” shifted to stereotypical masculine features and hobbies. Soccer, video games, and plain clothing were the new me. Did I like this new version of myself? No, but after it got me some new friends, I went along with it. By the latter half of my tenth grade (when the COVID-19 pandemic hit), I had effectively morphed myself into a new, straight Sam. And to be honest, this straight Sam I had crafted was much more likable, despite how much I hated him. But no matter how “popular” I was, I still felt alone.

I saw college as a way out. A place where I can find bits and chunks of the true Sam, piecing them together with the support of LGBTQ-friendly classmates and professors. I wanted to leave everything behind. Especially this straight Sam.

I ended up enrolling at New York University. NYU’s LGBTQ+ center and history of fostering a supportive and diverse student body stood out to me, and maybe, just maybe I could feel home at NYU.

Well, I didn’t.

The first few months, I was having such a hard time keeping friends. Sure, it’s easy to go about the standard name, major, where you’re from conversation with other freshmen, but I never saw 99% of them after the first week.

The biggest thing holding me back was my personality. Like a Pavlovian dog, I was trained to shut up throughout high school: talking about who I was and what I loved only brought trouble. High school had made me an introvert, and it was hard to break out of a mold I had literally cemented myself in. I cursed high school me for doing this to myself, but I also didn’t blame him. What else could he have done?

Slowly but surely, though, I started venturing away from this introvertedness and began making a name for myself. I presented for my research and landed a first author publication in ACS’ Biochemistry (I’ve actually trauma bonded with about ten graduate students about the long and tedious process of publishing papers, and I expect that number to rise!), I became a Point Foundation Flagship Scholarship semifinalist (A scholarship geared towards LGBTQ+ undergraduates in the US), I’ve started interning at Bellevue Hospital as a “patient advocacy volunteer,” and I’ve created a program back in Minnesota that helps undergraduate students, mostly FGLI and LGBTQ-identifying, gain access to local Minnesota health equity programs. I found myself doing things that everyone back in Michigan told me I shouldn’t even try doing.

With this said, I still felt out of place at NYU, so I decided to apply to a few schools to enter during the Fall 2024 semester. I ended up enrolling at the University of Pennsylvania.

Finally, I feel in control of myself and my journey. I’ve effectively threw out the Sam I so meticulously created in high school, and I’ve grown. This time, I’ve made a name FOR myself, and not for anyone else. Maybe it’s not Annihilator (My drag name is now Sammy Stardust, by the way. It still sounds a bit cringe, so I’m open to new ideas! Maybe something chemistry-related?), but it’s definitely not Straight Sam, and I’m proud of myself for doing things I’ve been trained to be scared of. And I’m just as proud of myself for writing a whole post opening up about my gayness and insecurities on a completely public blog, something I couldn’t have imagined myself doing two years ago.

I’ve been making lots of friends, too, many of whom I keep and all of whom I can genuinely be myself with. Just like how I was as a kid, I am unapologetically myself, shouting in the streets of Philadelphia, and voguing on the way to class and in the dining halls. Of course, I’m not perfect. I still have so much to work on, but this time, I’m not alone (To any of my friends reading this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you all, and I am forever grateful to each and every one of you guys for supporting and loving me back throughout these last two years.).

I’m sure that many of you have a similar story to mine. So whoever and wherever you are, remember you can find who you are anywhere. Wherever you end up, chip away at the ice that holds who you really are, and don’t let anyone stop you. You might just find someone you genuinely love.