Has anyone ever asked you, ``What has it been like for you, a heterosexual, living on Calvin's campus?'' The question seems absurd. It's not much easier if you're bisexual but the question is asked more often. People want to know the difference between my experience and theirs so they can better understand. I'm all for understanding, but the distinction makes me uneasy.

I don't know how much of my experience is a result of my orientation, part of Calvin, or specific to my friends. I don't know how much is part of the wider experience of GLBTQ (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, Questioning) people on campus.

I also don't know what it's like to be straight.

There is a distinction I do know, however and that's the difference between living with fear about my bisexuality, and living with freedom.

I spent most of my freshman year living in fear that no matter how much I prayed or studied the Bible I would come to the wrong conclusions about homosexuality. I worried that I was lying to myself and was only attracted to one sex, but I could never figure out which sex that was.

I worried that too many people would find out and that everyone I knew would tell me I was going to hell. Overhearing someone say, ``that's gay'' at the dining hall would send me back to my room to cry. I missed classes if the professors or students in my class had made homophobic comments.

What I really wanted was to speak up in these classes so that people would understand what I was going through, but I felt they wouldn't care. Instead, I believed they would avoid me and refuse to sit next to me in class.

Slowly, I began to trust people enough to tell them. First I told my closest friends, including my suitemates. Amazingly, they didn't change their behaviour around me at all. It gave me a little bit of courage and somehow I managed to tell a few more people.

I picked these people well, finding out if they were homophobic and gauging how likely they were to tell others. I tried to let people ask questions to get used to the idea. I still wasn't used to it and wasn't certain about what I thought, so it was only fair that they had time and were allowed to be confused. My fears about telling people turned out to be a lot scarier than the reality of coming out at Calvin.

This year I try to be open about it. It gives me freedom to be myself and I'm not so easily shaken. But there are still frustrations.

When I come out to someone or talk about the issue, I'm sometimes met with baffling stereotypes. People assume I can't be monogamous, I don't ``look'' enough like a lesbian, I have different standards for sexual purity with males than with females, etc. It's surprising to some because I had a relationship with a guy last year. It rarely occurs to people that there are gay people at Calvin, let alone bisexuals.

Another question I often get is, ``Why not live a normal, straight life and not tell anyone?'' It's a good question. I could pretend to be straight forever and refuse to admit my attraction to girls even to myself. It's a question I've thought about a lot, and at times it's been tempting.

But progress needs to be made. I have gay friends here who experience a lot of pain. The gay Christians I know have been seriously depressed, and many have seriously thought about suicide. As Christians, we cannot allow this pain and fear to continue working in our brothers and sisters, no matter their orientation.

People need to share their stories so that education and healing can begin. Without learning about each other, we can never love each other and build a Christian Community. I think this is important not only for those who are GLBTQ, but for those who are straight as well.

The only way people can stop living in fear is if we talk about the issues honestly and respectfully. Just as with racism, classism, sexism, etc. we need to do away with the stereotypes and the prejudices and get to know each other as children of God. If you're straight that means being conscious of your attitudes and language as well as being willing to get to know people who aren't heterosexual.

It also means to stop assuming that everyone you know is a heterosexual. For the GLBTQ people, it means finding a support network so that you can deal with your fear. This can be found through the Broene Centre's support group, one of their counsellors, with people you already know and trust, etc. Once you feel strong enough, get to know people and share your story. It's not always easy but there are others out there like you who are doing it, and there are those in the future who will thank you for paving their way.