My high school façade was designed for survival. I was different from other students, and didn’t wish to push myself from the herd. Leaning heavily on the cartoonish persona from middle school, I deliberately designed an undefined identity. I created a false identity by gathering adjectives to armor myself. I hoped that no one would see through the smokescreen of descriptors, to spot the gay that would further isolate me. I bent myself into new exaggerated images every day. Masks were crafted for every student sub-culture. I was Wal-Mart – a little for all but not everything to one; and no one to me. To seamlessly navigate cliques, I accumulated a little knowledge about a lot. This hindered the development of an authentic identity, based on beliefs, attitudes, and values. I allowed peers to dictate my identity and silence my own interests. I strived to fit-in, but gained attention because the adjectives that allowed me to nonchalantly shift cliques fixed a spotlight on me, and the impending question about my outsider status. I sabotaged acceptance based upon authenticity by defensively rejecting labels. I knew acceptance wasn’t me being made into a token. Instead my rejection came from refusing my own skin.