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BUILDING CONNECTIONS & POSITIVE
BUILDING CONNECTIONS & POSITIVE MENTAL HEALTH BUILDING CONNECTIONS & POSITIVE MENTAL HEALTH
Jim Olive-Liebhart remembers the revelatory experience of his first year of playing in the Columbus Lesbian and Gay Softball Association’s (CLGSA) summer league.
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“In the league, we interacted with each other in daylight. We could function like normal people, out in the sun, and it was healthy,” notes Jim. “The league was the first gay organization I joined when I was young and still kind of going through the coming out process, so it was crucial.”
Jim is a 47-year-old gay man, husband to Jason and a father of two beautiful kids who light up his Facebook feed. He is also a softball player and a suicide attempt survivor.
Elements of his story aren’t uncommon. Jim understood he was gay – though he didn’t have a word for it – at a young age. He remembers crushing on the gym teacher in his elementary school. But he grew up “very Christian”- that elementary school was a Christian school. He attended Christian summer camps. He and his mom went to church almost every Sunday. His extended family was Christian. The brand of Christianity that surrounded him was not LGBTQ-friendly.
Jim’s earliest conscious recognition that his attractions were not acceptable came courtesy of that same gym teacher.
“I remember I did something in class one day, and he pulled me aside and said, ‘What the hell are you, a little faggot?’” Jim recalls. “Because of the feelings I was feeling in the moment, the association was pretty quickly attached with, ‘Ok, if you like boys, this is clearly not a good thing.’”
Noelle Kiwas also knew at a young age that she wasn’t like other kids. A 59-yearold transgender woman, Noelle spent her childhood in Orange County, California. Noelle is also a softball player and a suicide attempt survivor.
“Growing up, I knew I was different. I didn’t know how different until I got older,” says Noelle. “I just thought I was the freakish kid who didn’t fit in anywhere. Ever since I was six years old, I thought I should have been a girl. I felt like a girl all my life.”
To survive the pervasive and consistent homophobic and transphobic trauma from their family members, schools, and communities, Noelle and Jim responded as most young LGBTQ people in an unsafe world do: they stifled their feelings well into their teens.
“I had to kind of pretend like I was somebody else and just keep quiet,” Noelle recalls.
Noelle dove into music and, later, dance. Jim committed himself to Christianity.
“I recognized that hey, I am gay, and it’s really, really bad,” says Jim. “I started throwing myself big time into religion, praying over and over and over again, doing everything you possibly can in order
to fix this horrible thing that is broken in you.”
When evangelist Billy Graham traveled to Columbus to deliver a sermon at the original site of Clippers Stadium, Jim “jumped on the bandwagon” to be part of the youth choir and immerse himself in the event.
In their late teens, Noelle and Jim each found a few people with whom they could begin to share who they were.
“One of my friends was a cousin who I occasionally hung out with, and for some reason, I felt I was fairly safe with him. We were both into music and that kind of stuff,” says Noelle. “We were doing something outside of school, we did like a car rally or something, and I felt like I could talk to him. He didn’t really think anything of it. He was like ok, that’s fine, let’s go do this car rally.”
Jim’s confidante was a new coworker who led the way.
“She and I had been working together,” notes Jim. “The first day we met each other, she came up and said something like, ‘My name is Shana. How long have you been gay?’” The two became fast friends – a relationship that’s sustained for more than three decades.
Jim attempted suicide when he was nearly 18.
“There was one night it clicked that I’m not changing, and no matter what I do, it’s not gonna change,” Jim recollects. “So, what the fuck do I do now?” Jim considers himself “very lucky” to have survived his attempt. Immediately after, he went to Shana’s and told Shana and her mother what happened. “That night it was kind of like, enough’s enough,” Jim notes. “You’re either going to have to try again or it’s time to start accepting who you are and the reality of what that means.” Transitioning to college provided opportunities for Jim to get out in the people,” Noelle reflects. “I saw community and meet that there were other people like other LGBTQ people. But, that led to his me there, and from then on, I mother asking him if started feeling way better about he was a “practicing myself. I was getting good at the homosexual.” When positions I was playing, and I liked Jim answered yes, she playing with a bunch of different basically disowned him. Attempts to people.” - Noelle reconcile with her in his young adult years led nowhere and, combined with other life events, increased his contemplation of suicide. Noelle first attempted suicide during her college years. Noelle had come out as gay to a few more people, including some of her older brother’s “fairly progressive” friends, but still hadn’t fully acknowledged her trans identity, even to herself, noting that most groups and organizations, even on college campuses, were “gay and lesbian” in name at the time and the B, T, and Q of LGBTQ weren’t really recognized.
At a dance performance in college – she would go on to dance professionally for 12 years – Noelle found herself in tears at the back of the stage.
“I was just crying my eyes out; I was just bawling, and I’m not sure why,” recalls Noelle. “So, I looked over to the other side of the theatre, and there was a girl there that was doing the exact same thing. I looked at her and I was like, ‘Why are you crying?,’ and she was like, ‘Why are you crying?.’ We both said, ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’”
The pair shared a supportive hug and went back to their performance. They maintained their fateful connection after that emotional evening, sharing classes and conversation.
Noelle eventually moved from Southern California to Humboldt County, then to the Bay Area. In the ensuing years, she had significant relationships with four different gay men and struggled to understand why none of them worked. She also survived a second suicide attempt after her last relationship with a gay man ended.
Both Jim and Noelle accessed professional mental health care to aid their mental health. Noelle began seeing a therapist when she lived in the Bay Area. “I was so depressed that I felt like I needed to talk to somebody,” she says.
“I’ve been in therapy since 1994. I cannot speak more highly of therapy,” Jim notes. “I say it’s like an oil change. I’ll go for a couple months where things are rolling, then some shit will go down. I’ll just call her up and say, It’s time for an oil change.” Jim adds that stigma around mental health issues, while lessening, is still a barrier to individuals seeking mental health services. “I think a lot of people don’t want to admit that they need [therapy],” Jim says. “They may not understand it, and that’s so unfortunate, because if you find a legit good therapist, that individual will help guide you along.” He adds that while friendships are valuable, they aren’t
“The league was tremendously a substitute for helpful for me. I was able to see therapy. that there were different types of “[Therapy] is gay men. I realized there’s a whole different than friendspectrum,” he says. “Going on ship. They’re trained through life, the league has kind of to deal with this stuff,” he notes. “My been a rock in many ways.” friends, they just love me to death and want to help me.” Jim also emphasizes the importance of medication within the context of mental health care. “Medication is a godsend. As you are traumatized as a child, your literal brain chemistry changes, the formation of your brain changes,” he explains. “When we look at depression, it is a physical circumstance, no different than diabetes or heart disease. If I’ve got diabetes or heart disease, why the hell would I not take medication in order to help my body in order to be healthier. There is no difference. There’s this stigma about taking anti-depressants or taking other medications. There shouldn’t be.” Both Jim and Noelle extol the role softball has played in their mental health and building connections with others, a
key component of positive mental health. Noelle began playing in the Silicon Valley Gay Softball League in 2000.
“I got a call from somebody from the San Jose gay softball league. So, I went out and tried out with a bunch of other people,” Noelle reflects. “I saw that there were other people like me there, and from then on, I started feeling way better about myself. I was getting good at the positions I was playing, and I liked playing with a bunch of different people.”
Noelle went on to transfer to the San Francisco Gay Softball League, where she played until her move to Columbus almost a year ago. Throughout that time, she still did not recognize her trans identity, but still found camaraderie and community in the LGBTQ leagues.
Jim has the same sentiments. He even met his husband through playing in CLGSA.
“The league was tremendously helpful for me. I was able to see that there were different types of gay men. I realized there’s a whole spectrum,” he says. “Going on through life, the league has kind of been a rock in many ways.”
Noelle came full circle in understanding her identify in just the last few years. On a trip to London in 2016, she explored her identity more fully than she ever had and returned to the U.S. with a growing recognition that she is trans. That led to an epiphany about why her relationships with gay men didn’t work out.
“So yeah, it took a long time to figure this out, figure out who and what I was,” Noelle acknowledges. “It wasn’t anything about me or them; it was just we weren’t compatible. Because of the way I am, it never was going to work out, no matter what I did.”
Noelle adds that she’s in contact with three of her four exes, and when she came out to them as trans, they understood, too. “They got it,” she notes.
Noelle says softball fits into her life philosophy to stay connected – another protective factor against suicide risk – and shares a story about chance connection through the sport.
“One time when I had a group of people practicing, we saw a couple of guys throwing the ball around. We just invited them to play,” she shares. “They weren’t gay. They weren’t anyone we knew. They were just there by themselves. I just said, ‘Hey if you want to play, come on and play. We can always use people.’”
The group – many straight and cisgender – went on to play together multiple times after that impromptu connection, including in an LGBTQ tournament, and they’re still in touch.
“Ten years later we’re all still friends; we see each other on Facebook all the time,” Noelle beams. “We all moved our different ways, but we see each other on Facebook all the time. That makes me feel like I kind of did something for somebody else.”
NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE (ALL AGES): 800-273-8255
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