Me (27 page)

At that moment I probably didn’t realize that the process of writing that letter would be my training ground for the letter that was yet to be written. On the one hand, through this letter I was expressing many of the thoughts and reflections that for years had been swirling around in my head. The anger I feel when I read about hate crimes and a lack of tolerance was also a manifestation of the anger I felt toward my own history: In a way, my difficulty to accept myself also comes from my own fear of such hate crimes, and how certain people are intolerant and simply incapable of accepting anything different from them. I am blessed to have my family and to live in a world and work in an industry that is so accepting. Even though fame comes with many demands and pressures that might not be the choice of most, in the midst of it all I have the freedom to live my life the way I want to live it because, to a certain extent, fame also protects me and gives me the space to express myself the way I am. Sadly, this isn’t the case for everyone else, and although the world has changed in many ways, the fact that hate crimes of this caliber continue to exist today—that in places such as Malawi, for example, there are men who go to jail for the simple fact of falling in love with a man, being a homosexual, or holding a ceremony to celebrate their union—is to me terrifying.

However, deep inside myself, a change was finally starting to happen. Instead of shaking in the face of such hate crimes, only to withdraw further into myself and keep my mouth closed, I felt the need to talk and express my indignation. Maybe it came in part from my experience in fighting against human trafficking, against abuse and exploitation, but the fact is that I decided to take action through my words.

The letter wasn’t picked up by many news outlets; I’m sure there were other news stories that took precedence that day. But to me, on a personal level, a door had opened: The avalanche of support I received via Twitter was a great surprise and a total blessing. For someone like me who’s used to being onstage and getting the immediate response of an audience, Twitter is a dream tool. I can write whatever I want, and immediately I get the responses and stories from people who react to what I have said, giving me their opinion or sharing in what I say. I felt so comfortable and so strong that I understood that this would be my way, and Twitter would be my tool.

SO I STARTED to write. I wrote and wrote, finding a great deal of calm. At times I would feel euphoric, and other times I would cry. The process of writing was a whirlwind of emotions, because even though I knew I was doing something necessary and vital for me to be able to go on with my life, it didn’t make it any easier to have to find a way to put my personal life into words.

A few days before I uploaded my letter to my Web site (and then linked to it on Twitter), I told the people around me what I wanted to do. Everyone became very nervous and instantly tried to dissuade me with all sorts of arguments: that it was not the right time, that people wouldn’t understand, that we were waiting for the book to come out, that it wasn’t a good idea to do it during the week of Easter. Everyone gave me a reason, and although I know that all of those reasons came from a place of love and concern for me and because they didn’t want to see me suffer, I know that everyone also had his or her own reasons and fears that I hope they will one day be free of. But in this case, I was the one who was ready to get this off my chest, because now my spiritual path had come full circle.

I know that if I lose my balance, many other people—colleagues, friends, and family alike—will also lose their balance, and that causes a lot of fear. But this time, I knew I had to do what
I needed
to do and I couldn’t think about anyone else. So I ignored all their recommendations, and by the end, when they came to me with the argument that I shouldn’t do it during Easter because it might offend my Christian fans, I said: “What part of ‘I can’t take it anymore’ do you not understand? What about me? In my world, my space, my ‘reality,’ this isn’t a sin or anything I need to be ashamed of. Quite the opposite: I need to celebrate my truth!”

Martin Luther King, Jr., once said some beautiful words that I now carry close to my heart: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” On March 29 I decided to finally put an end to the hell that was going on inside my mind, in order to justly celebrate my rebirth. It’s about death and new life; circles are closed and new ones opened. The only thing that mattered was that I was ready to begin a new chapter of my life, and I wanted to start it as quickly as possible.

And so, the letter was published. It is a text I am extremely proud of; every time I read it I am moved remembering everything I have faced in order to get to a point in which I could share it with the world.

When I pressed SEND, I immediately closed the computer and went to my room to take a nap, supposedly. I closed my eyes for about half an hour, maybe forty minutes, but the curiosity killed the cat. Since I didn’t want to get back on the computer right away, I called a friend who already knew what I was going to do, and I asked her to go into my Twitter account and tell me what people were saying. She said to me, “Kiki . . . it’s pure love. There have been two, three, and four hundred comments—not one of them negative.” Of course, there were one or two people who simply didn’t get it, but generally speaking, the love I received was immediate and overwhelming. Even though deep down I didn’t think anything bad was going to happen, the avalanche of love I received that day was a complete surprise. The next week my album sales even went up. Not only was I not being rejected by anybody; for all intents and purposes it looked like they loved me even more now! So all that fear I had, the fear that many people have when they come out, was only in my mind. I know this might not be the case for other people who decide to come out of the closet—I know some people encounter all the pain and suffering of rejection—but I will say that my own experience was only positive and empowering.

My family and circle of closest friends, who had already known my truth for many years, offered me their unconditional support. My father was very happy when I told him what I was going to do, as he had wanted me to do this for years, because he wanted me to free myself in order to live peacefully and openly, but he knew I had to find my moment, and he therefore supported me throughout the process until I was ready. My mother was also very happy, but the way I told her was a bit unusual.

That day, my mother was flying from Puerto Rico to Miami. I always felt that I didn’t want to send the letter when she was in Puerto Rico, because like all mothers, she would worry about her son. Also, I didn’t want her to be there, by herself, getting calls from everyone she knows. For the announcement, and so that she wouldn’t worry, I wanted her to be here with me so she could see that her son and grandkids were all fine. So I waited until she had boarded the plane, where she would have no access to her cell phone or the Internet. When she arrived in Miami, she was picked up by one of my representatives, and the first thing they did was take her cell phone away so that she couldn’t take any calls. She was dropped off at my house, and there I gave her a hug and sat her in front of the computer and had her read the letter I had just sent. As soon as she finished reading it, she stood up, gave me a great big hug, and started to cry like a baby.

IT WAS AN incredible experience. Today I feel strong, happy, and free. It makes me happy to think that many of my fears—not to say all of them—were imagined or imaginary. It goes without saying that there are people out there who make negative comments and who don’t understand what it’s about, but I see those people as people who still have to grow and evolve, and I am nobody to judge them. Just as it took me a long time to accept my reality and accept myself, they too have yet to go through their process of acceptance and comprehension.

Someone once asked me, “When did you decide you were going to be a homosexual?” I answered, “I never decided to become anything. I simply am who I am”; then I added: “When did you decide to become a heterosexual?” Needless to say, that question went unanswered. . . .

I’m not out to change anyone’s way of thinking. I am simply sharing my own experience. There might be some people who will stop liking me because they will think that until now I have not been completely sincere. Maybe others will begin to listen to and enjoy my music, now that they know who I really am. But I believe that whether they like me or not, they should do it while being aware of my whole truth. If they hate me, let it be for who I am, not for who they think I am. And if they love me, let them love me for who I am, not for who they think I am.

Today, I understand that I can’t expect everybody to love me, and as silly as it may sound, it took me a long time to absorb and understand that. This enormous need I have of being accepted was very likely what led me to become what I am, because I was always willing to do what was asked of me, in order to please others. Being rejected was painful for me. That’s why I kept my reality a secret. I didn’t want to feel the disapproval of others, especially because on some occasions, when I had revealed my truth to some of the closest people around me, I faced some very unexpected reactions.

The thing is that we tend to perceive one another the way we want to. And when that image is destroyed, we become angry. Maybe we don’t want to see the truth, or maybe we could not see it because it was hiding. Everyone lives according to a certain set of rules they learned when they were very young, many of which condition us to see the world as we would like it to be, and not as it truly is.

This is why I want to make sure that my kids grow up without the pressures and preconceptions that I grew up with. I want them to live a life without limitations of color, race, origin, or sexual orientation, and to feel total freedom to be who they are. And if tomorrow they like men or women or both, I won’t be the one to hold them back or condition them to do this or that. And although I know that in life they will encounter people who will not have the open and accepting worldview they have, at least I can rest assured that they will feel peace in their hearts because they can be who they are. Needless to say there will undoubtedly come a day when they will suffer, but I hope it will never be because they cannot be themselves.

The truth is that I don’t wish the pain I endured on anyone, which is why I think it is so important to fight against prejudice. Do you know how many teenagers kill themselves every day because they cannot face their sexuality? Do you know how many people grow old having never accepted their sexuality? They lead miserable lives, never allowing themselves to be who they really are. Many don’t even allow themselves to discover their true nature, and to me that is a tragedy.