Dear Zayboy ~
My coming-out was like this. I come from a rural area (from a farm, actually), which is pretty conservative in terms of its attitude to many things: but it is true that most Canadian communities are quite a bit more liberal, than communities in the American south (for example). My family are quite conservative in terms of ethics, and very religious (Presbyterian) - but not prejudiced at all against gay people - though they never imagined I'd turn out to be one of them ;-)
I don't act or seem particularly (stereotypically) gay. (Some women at the office in whom I haven't confided, are STILL trying to set me up with nice girls - LOL!!!) But I had passionate romantic friendships with, and crushes on, other boys, ever since I went to kindergarten. So. . . the moment I looked up "homosexuality" in the encyclopedia, at the age of seven - I knew that was pretty much how I felt. However, I imagined that this meant I was destined for a life of celibacy - because, at that early age, I didn't realize that men could have romantic (let alone sexual) relationships with one another. *Now, later in life, I hope that I can have one of those relationships - especially since I met the wondrous Mr. K.K., my boyfriend.*
I never felt the inclination to "come out" or tell anyone about these inclinations and feelings of mine till I was in my early 20's. At that time, however, I met and fell in love with a young man called Danny, with whom I was totally enraptured. And it felt very hard, feeling all those feelings, and having to keep it all to myself.
So, I quite gingerly began to share how I was feeling, with some close friends. One was an English student (I am godfather to his children now); and one was a science student, and the captain of our university swim team. (The latter guy had some SUPER-homophobic friends, but I trusted him.) They had both known me for a long time - we were great friends - and they took the news with great kindness and acceptance. I DID feel a great sense of relief.
A few months later, at the Christmas holiday, I took a bigger step. I told my sisters (who are really wonderful) and they hugged me and said it was fine. Then, on a trip to town in our sky-blue Buick LeSabre, to pick up the Christmas turkey - I told my Dad. It was very quiet, the snow was swirling down, and my Dad said - "Well, I never imagined I'd be having this conversation, BUT - you're my son, I love you, and all that matters to me is that you're a good person, and that you're happy. You'd better let ME tell your Mother, though!"
He did. And she cried for about a day. And had some very fraught conversations with Dear Old Dad, asking what she had done WRONG, and all those terrible sorts of questions that Mothers sometimes ask themselves, when they find out they have a gay son. (You know, it really wasn't personal, Zay, I believe - but Mothers are so oriented towards loving and caring for children - and then they want GRANDCHILDREN - and so, as liberal as they might be, it's hurtful to them to learn that their son will not play a part in realizing that - legitimate- dream.)
But, at the end of the day, my Mother ceased her mourning, put on her game face, and said, well, "A" - let's just make SURE you get a great boyfriend, who takes care of you! And we dealt happily and well with that, thereafter.
And I was glad I DID come out to my sisters and my parents, that Christmas. Because, two Christmases later, my Mother was afflicted with a grave illness, from which she never recovered. I will never forget, on that LAST Christmas, she was propped up on the chesterfield (that's a sofa, for Americans): and we were watching "The Days of Our Lives" - just for a lark. (I loved Jensen Ackles.) And my Mother said, "A., I know you think the boys on this programme are cute - but, to me, there will never be a man as cute, and beautiful, as your FATHER is." And that was one of our last, truly significant conversations - so yes, I'm glad I told my parents, and they had the chance to know the real me. (Or, that PART of the real me - because sexuality is only ONE PART of who a person is - kindness, caring, intelligence, and what one does in the world are MUCH more important, than whom one kisses, at night.)
(If it's any comfort - and I think it's kind of funny: I tell this story to friends in the clergy all the time - my Mom cried a lot HARDER when I became an Episcopalian, than when I disclosed that I was gay. For a Scottish Mother, that was the BIGGEST HEARTBREAK of ALL - LOL! *But, you see, I simply don't believe the doctrine of Predestination - and that was the reason, for THAT* ;-)
Zay, as to other friends, I have 'come out" just as I have seen fit, and seemed right to me. I am a pretty private person, and my position is that I am neither 'proud of' NOR 'ashamed of' being gay. This is a part of my personal life, and so with those friends who are PART of my personal life, I am happy to share my personal story. Some people at my work know that I am gay - some do not. Of course, in the happy event that I marry Mr. K.K., I will be happy to acknowledge and celebrate him (in a quiet, Canadian, way) as my husband, and would never disclaim him.
"The office" has changed a lot, in my lifetime. When I was 20, I used to work for a lot of people of very socially conservative disposition - some of whom might have been inclined to FIRE me, if they had known I was gay. Nowadays, at lest where I live and work, in Canada, this is no longer the case. Even the most conservative employers up here are HAPPY to have talented employees working for them, even if they are gay. (And visibly so.) But I know that for my b/f, who lives and works in Missouri, it's different - and he has faced some real discrimination in jobs, sometimes, because he is gay.
Last story I will tell (in this interminable tale, and I am sorry I'm so long-winded) is one which might hearten you, Zay. At least, I hope it will.
In university (and after) I had a friend who became an optometrist. Brilliant guy - witty and charming as could be. He was also a Baptist - and thought being gay was just about the greatest sin one could ever confess. It kind of bothered me that he felt that way, because we had been friends for so many years (I had even been his "wing-man", helping him try to pick up cute GIRLS!!!): and so one night, when we were out for a walk in the park, I disclosed my whole situation, to him.
He paused for a long time - and I thought I was about to get a terrible blast of repudiation, remonstrance, or some such thing. But, after many moments, he said: "A, we have been friends for SO long, and you have been SO good to me - I believe in you. My church teaches me that homosexuality is wrong, but. . . I know you, and if you are homosexual, I will choose YOU, any day. My church must JUST BE WRONG, about this one."
Zay, for me that was the most gratifying and happy moment, to find that someone I cared about, could see through things, understand me, and love me as a friend - despite what he had been taught, and believed, all his life. That's a rare sort of occasion, and it was a risk to tell him, but again, I'm glad I DID.
So that's my story. Now, Zay, you take some time to reflect, collect, and appreciate the good person you are. Don't be in any rush - but when you are ready to tell a close and trusted friend your feelings, do so, and let us know how it goes. We are ALL on your side, here - and quietly rejoicing for you, as you become more and more, the person you would like to be.
God bless you, dear Zay.
"A" XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PO17DIeI7Ec
