A Twenty-Six year “Coming Out” Journey, From Self-Disappointment To Loving Myself
Are you gay?
If I had to tally up how many times that question has been asked of me, well, let’s just say it would be a number anyone would want for their bank account balance.
But for twenty-six years, I never answered that question honestly. Not even fully with myself. Whenever a curious mind hurled the question at me, I’d awkwardly maneuver around it or flat out lie. I knew from a young age that I found boys attractive. Yet the relatively conservative Catholic household I grew up in silenced anything other than heteronormativity.
My parents were loving. They made sure that all of my needs were met and worked hard to provide my siblings and me with comfortable lives. They attended every band recital, every sporting event. Their religious and political beliefs, though, had me convinced that I needed to bury my sexuality.
With that thought in mind, I went through all of high school prepared to marry a woman some day. I watched my friends go on dates, fall in love, and have their hearts broken. And there I was, alone the entire time. There were times I attempted to convince myself that I had a crush on a girl, but I never pursued any of them. At this point, I figured I’d probably spend my life partnerless.
And then college came.
I wouldn’t say college, at least for me, was the immense cathartic experience some LGBTQ people claim it to be. Yes, I encountered a spectrum of people from all sorts of backgrounds and filled with colorful ideas. I still felt as if I wore a mask every day though. My skin still didn’t feel like it fit right.
That discomfort I experienced probably couldn’t have been more visible when Derek* asked me out my sophomore year. No boy had ever asked me on a date before him. I was completely flustered! One moment I felt elated, the next absolutely terrified at the prospect of going on a date. Questions raced through my head, increasing my anxiety over the situation. What do you talk about on a date? Where would we even go? Who pays the bill?
Those questions were never answered.
I told him I didn’t feel comfortable coming out and probably wouldn’t anytime soon. Anything that developed between us would have to remain secret. Forget about meeting my parents. Derek, though, was out of the closet and living his best life. It’s no wonder he balked at the idea of allowing himself to be sucked into the void of self-loathing I had created. Twenty-seven-year-old me wouldn’t ever dream of dating twenty-year-old me either!
My immediate post-college romantic life consisted of one short and discreet relationship with a closeted pansexual guy and many strings of mostly meaningless hookups. Some of them refused to admit they were gay. Others proudly put their queerness on display at gay pride festivals for the world to see. The common factor with each of them was the feeling of dissatisfaction I felt after each encounter. I wanted something more than a shadowed sexual partner. I wanted someone to hold my hand while we loaded up our cart at Target with things we didn’t know we needed. It was time for me to be myself.
Coming out couldn’t have been more anti-climactic. And in all honesty, I wouldn’t have wished for it to happen any other way. My mom asked me one day, and this time, I answered truthfully. She told my dad and all of my siblings. The sky didn’t fall, and I woke up the next morning like any other day, albeit with a little more joy in my stride.
You see, I came out because I had become exhausted. Tired from lying. Tired from being alone. Tired from being tired. If I could pass on one piece of advice to those who have yet to come out, it would be to not wait until you have reached the point of exhaustion. Because you only have things to lose and nothing to gain. I look back at the dates I could have gone on, the relationships I could have had and those thoughts sadden me. I chose to use part of my limited energy to conceal and to mask. To hide and to deflect. Now that I’ve reached the other side of the fence, I realize that only now do I have the chance to experience true happiness. Before coming out, the best I could hope for was a lack of sadness.
Now, when asked about my sexuality, I only have one response I give, accompanied by a wide smile on my face.
Are you gay?
Yes, yes I am.
*Name changed to protect individual’s privacy.
