My Coming Out Story

I suppose I've forgotten to mention that I'm not completely inside the closet as I may have (unintentionally) made it seem.  There are actually five people in my personal life who know that I'm gay.  My best 'girl' friend, my best guy friend, both of my parents, and my school counselor.  Yet while my sexuality is known by these people, I still wouldn't agree to say that I'm "out".  I've told these few people, and a couple of them came to know without my consent (I'll explain), yet I have no wish to tell anyone else. I don't mean to justify or defend anything, I'm just saying that what is is what is.


The first person I ever told was my friend whom I've known for two years now.  I told her last summer, while we were eating at a Chipotle.  I hadn't really known her for very long before I came out to her.. but I think that was part of the security of choosing her.  We're pretty close, yet we weren't dependent on each other for support and counsel.  This meant that if our short-term friendship were ruined, it wouldn't have been very hard on me (I hope that doesn't sound too shallow).  This, coupled with the fact that she had a lot of gay friends and was entirely open to homosexuality, gave me enough incentive - or lack of fear - to tell her.

We were watching people on a random South Minneapolis street while I tried to muster the courage, with extreme difficulty, to tell her.  Finally, I quietly uttered, "I think I'm gay"...  She looked at me and laughed.  For the next five minutes, I tried to convince her that I was being serious (after the initial admittance, it was a lot easier to try and explain to her).  She thought I was joking, and even when it finally dawned on her that I wasn't, she nodded and explained that she never would have guessed.  She took it well, and looking back on it, I wonder why I feared otherwise.  It didn't phase her that I was gay, it phased her that she didn't figure it out before.  The rest of the day continued normally, and we were all smiles.  I was relieved beyond any relief I had ever felt, even though deep down I knew that it wouldn't have turned out any differently.  I don't regret it - in fact, I wish I had told her sooner.  Today, we discretely joke about it in the school hallways and in our English class, and sharing this secret with her has brought us much closer.


Life continued on after a while, and I began to hardly think about the fact that she knew about my sexuality.  I became a little more content with my life as the summer blew by; I was even beginning to look forward to the start of school.  That is, until one day in a car ride with my mom. We were making the drive from Madison back to the Twin Cities together, cohesively and enjoyably, until she brought up the subject.  I knew what it was the exact second she started - and the funny thing is, neither of us ever even said the word "gay".  Yet all of a sudden, my mom was essentially telling me that she knew I was, that she'd known for a while, and that she was worried about me.  The only exact wording of hers I remember was "sometimes, you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders".  I couldn't blame her for thinking that - it did often feel that way for me.  I knew that she was only explaining everything to me as any protective and concerned mother would, but it still infuriated me.  Maybe I was too emotionally immature to properly handle it, but I was pissed that she dropped that bomb on me, and I made it clear.  I told her - ordered her - that she never speak of it again, and that I wasn't going to talk about it with her.  I know it hurt her to have her comfort rejected so abrasively, but I felt then - as I still do - that she had no right to out me.  They're my feelings, my secret, and it's my right to withhold that from her.  It was my choice to bring it up between us, not hers.  I'm grateful that she cares about me, and that she tried to comfort me, but I was not ready for her to know - or, for me to know that she knew.  I'm not angry at her so much as I'm angry at the situation.

It caused a lot of strife, both between the two of us and within myself. I wouldn't even speak to her for a while afterwards, and I quietly seethed to myself.  I absolutely hated that she knew, and that she admitted it.  In all honesty, I still do hate it; I was not ready for her to know then, and I still am not.


While there continued an intense rift between my parents and I, a much more weighty burden was bearing down at me at the time.  My best friend, whom I've loved more than life itself for years, appeared more and more in my thoughts.  I could never stop thinking of him, and it hurt.  I cried plenty of times over him, and over my irresistible feelings for him.  The idea of coming out to him had been in my mind for a long time, and it slowly began to take more shape, even as I began to become more distressed by it.  I wanted to tell him, badly, but it wasn't that easy.  The fears of every closeted gay were screaming at me - that if I told him, this straight, masculine guy would freak out; he'd reject me, and push me away, and break our friendship. And even if it wouldn't have been that extreme, we most certainly would have drifted apart, wouldn't we? He wouldn't want anything to do with a loser queer like me. I simply wouldn't have been able to handle that kind of reaction.. not only was he the guy of my dreams, but we had been best friends for ten years. Beyond love, I shared a connection with him that people rarely had, and I dared not break it by coming out to him. I chose to suffer in silence rather than even risk losing his friendship.

At least, I suffered in literal silence; an online friend of mine, whom I'd found solace in through emails, had been serving as an outlet for my feelings and depressions. He was the one who pushed me to seek out the guidance counselor at my school. I agreed with him; my head was getting into darker and darker places, and I had to find some way to bring light to it. I had almost as much apprehension in visiting the counselor as I did when I came out for the first time to my friend. I went to his office and told him what had been troubling me. I told him that I was in love with a guy who couldn't love me back. I told him that I was feeling hopeless and lost. I broke down in his office (though I suppose 'breaking down' for me is a few tears). And all he did for me was give me a shoulder to cry on; he gave me a way to unload my problems. And it helped; I felt like the weight of unrequited love wasn't pressing so hard on me any more.


Yet it didn't last for very long, and I hadn't expected it to. I was soon back to doting over my best friend, and imagining coming out to him. I kept promising myself every time we hung out that it would be the time I'd finally tell him. Time after time I backed out, and tore myself up over it afterwords. Until one night, when I fell into the lowest low I had been in, and I knew that I couldn't put it off any longer; I had to do something. So, over winter break, he and I hung out at his house, and I did it. It was by far the hardest thing I had ever done - much more difficult than telling either my girl friend or the counselor. My simple, choked out explanation was that "I like guys." (I didn't tell him about my feelings for him). I dreaded the response.. but he just flashed me his big, goofy grin, and told me that it was all good. He patted me on the back and said that he wouldn't think of me any differently, and that nothing would change the fact that we were buds.

To say the least, I was relieved. I returned to my house shortly afterwards, and I didn't know what to do with myself. The most unfamiliar emotions (I think it was happiness) exploded in me; I swore I could have done anything on the high I had from relief. It literally, physically felt like I could breathe easier then, that the weight of my biggest secret from my best friend was lifted off my chest.

Shortly after, we texted for a while about it, and some of what he actually said was, "Its your sexuality, you cant control whether you like dudes or girls. im completely open to people being gay", "I'm not gonna look at you any differently and i think its cool you told me because that shows some kind of trust with me. we are still gonna be friends and that wont change", and "if you ever need to talk to me about anything ill be here and listen to you dude".

These simple words (among others of his) had such a deep impact on me. I knew that I had made the right choice in telling him that I'm gay, because we are best friends, and we value each other for who we are. I realized that I was wrong to ever doubt this. I still say that coming out to him was the best thing to happen to me in a long, long time. It brought us so much closer, as well as relieving the tension from keeping it secret. I never told him about my feelings for him, and I have no idea if he knows anyway. I still do love him, and I still do think about him every waking hour. Yet even though it still causes me a lot of pain, it's something I know I can put off, at least for a while. In the meantime, I can relish the fact that we are still friends, and that I can truly confide in him with anything (well, except one thing). Such a friendship outweighs any pain.


So, that's my 'coming out' story.. It's a lot longer than I thought it would be. Regardless of how far you are on your path towards leaving the closet - whether it's currently locked tight or open wide - I hope my story might provide some insight. Maybe it can give hope to those who have the same fears of losing friends as I had - and still do, to be honest. Or perhaps it can revive a sense of relief and self-gratitude to those who have already overcome those fears.

One of the most cliched phrases pertaining to this situation (and many like it) is that 'if your friend doesn't accept you, then he/she's not really your friend'. Until recently, I viewed this popular saying in a cynical manner. I used to think it meant that my friends will not accept me, and that I should be happy to be rid of people who 'weren't really my friends'. But that is not its meaning; what this phrase is actually saying is that your friends will accept you, because they are true friends. It's conveying that you don't have anything to fear in coming out to those you trust, because they will not push you away. Your true friends will accept you, as mine did, and your relationships will be better off because of it.

I can't tell you to come out to your friends, family, or dog, because that's a decision you must make on your own. But if your inhibitions of it are due to the delusional and irrational fears of unacceptance from those who have already shown to value and care about you, then forget them. Understand that friendship transcends something as truly petty as sexuality.

Regardless, I know that coming out is intimidating; it usually requires planning and forethought. Pick a time and setting that both you and the person you're coming out to are comfortable in. Think carefully about what you want to say. I wouldn't advise memorizing a script, because you can't predict how it will occur, though I think it's important to remember key points. For example, it would be good to explain that you are still the same person, and that you won't act any differently. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, you must prepare yourself for a negative reaction; not all people are utterly open to the idea, and you must allow them time to process the fact that you're gay, or bi, or whatever. Even if they do reject you initially, give them some time to fully digest it and come around to acceptance - as any true friend will.


Still, it goes without saying that there are more and greater fears associated with coming out than lost friendships. The fear of ostracization, insult, bullying, assault - even death - are all problems that continue to intensely antagonize the gay community, and are justifiably avoided.  While coming out to accepting friends and family is a source of relief, it's necessary to keep it mind the environment you're coming out into.  I, or anyone else, couldn't possibly know the circumstances of your life, so you have to be the judge of whether it's safe to disclose your sexuality.  

Maybe there will be a day when posts like these are far from necessary, and when "coming out" is equally unremarkable. Until then, however, I hope this post shows that those who are in the closet aren't alone or without friends.