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Voices & Opinion

POV: I Have Tourette’s, and I’m Gay—Why I Feel Misunderstood

“Being at the intersection of two marginalized communities has presented obstacles that often seem invisible to others,” BU senior writes

My name is Keven, and I live with Tourette’s syndrome. This neurological disorder causes me to make involuntary sounds and movements, sometimes even to blurt out words I don’t mean. I didn’t choose this, but I’ve learned to live with it—and, more important, learned to thrive.

I’m also a proud gay man, and while I’ve accepted who I am, navigating life with these two overlapping identities has been anything but easy. Being at the intersection of two marginalized communities—living with an invisible and misunderstood condition like Tourette’s, while also being part of the LGBT+ community—has presented obstacles that often seem invisible to others. But today, I want to share my story not only for myself, but also for everyone like me who has felt misunderstood or misjudged because of who they are.

From a young age, I realized that I was different. My body would twitch, my throat would make strange sounds, and at times, I would say inappropriate things without meaning to. Teachers would tell me to stop fidgeting. Classmates would stare and whisper. It took years before I was diagnosed with Tourette’s syndrome, a condition that only 1 percent of the population experiences and is often misunderstood by the majority.

The hardest part about Tourette’s is the lack of control. Even with medication and therapy, I still struggle to suppress the tics. There are days when I feel as though my body has betrayed me. On those days, it’s hard to explain to people that what they see on the outside isn’t who I truly am. When I involuntarily curse or make strange noises, people sometimes think I’m trying to be disruptive or offensive. But these actions are beyond my control, and that’s what makes living with this condition so challenging.

Intersectionality: Tourette’s and being gay

As if living with Tourette’s wasn’t hard enough, being a gay man adds another layer to the misunderstanding I face. People who hear the vulgar words that sometimes escape my lips might associate them with stereotypes about my sexuality, assuming that I’m intentionally being inappropriate or provocative. This couldn’t be further from the truth. I never chose to be gay, just like I never chose to be neurodiverse.

I still remember vividly how some people reacted when I came out. I was judged not only for my sexuality, but also for my condition. Some thought that my sexual identity was somehow tied to my tics, as if the two were linked in ways they couldn’t understand. I quickly realized that I lived in a world where people often rush to make judgments before taking the time to understand. It hurt deeply.

Despite the challenges, I’ve come to embrace who I am. I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about erasing the things that make life hard; it’s about accepting them and finding strength in the struggle. My journey through Tourette’s and coming to terms with my sexuality has shaped me in ways that I would never trade. These two aspects of my identity, though difficult at times, have given me a unique perspective on life. They have taught me empathy, patience, and a deep sense of purpose.

At Boston University, I’ve found a community that challenges and supports me. But even here there are times when I feel the weight of stigma. I’ve had to explain my condition over and over again, sometimes even defend it. I’ve heard slurs that target both my Tourette’s and my LGBT+ identity. And each time, it hurts. Yet I know that many of these comments stem from ignorance rather than malice.

That’s why I’m sharing my story—to reduce the stigma around hidden disabilities and to build a more inclusive campus. Many students live with disabilities that aren’t visible to others, whether it’s Tourette’s syndrome, ADHD, or other challenges. We all deserve to live with dignity, without fear of judgment or discrimination.

Kindness and understanding first

One thing I’ve learned is that everyone, at some point, will experience being part of a minority—whether through identity, illness, or life circumstances. My experiences have shown me that the more we understand and care for each other, the better our community becomes. We all have the power to make BU a place where diversity is celebrated and where every individual feels seen and respected.

If there’s one message I want to leave with my fellow students, it’s this: approach people with kindness and understanding. When you see someone behaving in a way that doesn’t fit what you expect, ask questions before making assumptions. Educate yourself. Tourette’s syndrome is more than just the outbursts you may see—it’s a lifelong journey of resilience and acceptance. And for me, being gay and living with Tourette’s isn’t something to hide from; it’s something to be proud of.

At the end of the day, my story isn’t just about Tourette’s or being gay. It’s about the resilience we all have within us and the importance of creating a compassionate and understanding environment. As we move forward into a new semester, let’s work together to build a BU where every Terrier, no matter who they are or what they face, can thrive.

Keven Yuhao Wang (CAS’25) can be reached at keven666@bu.edu. 

“POV” is an opinion page that provides timely commentaries from students, faculty, and staff on a variety of issues: on-campus, local, state, national, or international. Anyone interested in submitting a piece, which should be about 700 words long, should contact today@bu.edu. BU Today reserves the right to reject or edit submissions. The views expressed are solely those of the author and are not intended to represent the views of Boston University.