photo by ElvertBarnes

Growing up, I always knew there was something different about me from all the other boys. I was more emotional and intact with my feeling. I was a loner for a large part of my childhood, not seeming to be able to connect with other boys my age. Once again, I was different and at the time, I didn’t know what this difference was, but little did I know it was coming full speed ahead!

I moved around from city to city with my parents, going to a total of 9 public school, and being the outcast at every single last one of them. When we finally settled in our current city, I was an outcast no more. It was grade eight and I was a lot bigger then all the other boys and I had found a passion for basketball and volleyball. This brought me a lot closer to the other boys in my class, but it also brought me closer to all their pre-pubescent discussions about girls. That’s when I started realizing what this difference was. At the time I felt as if it was some monster growing inside of me, because being gay in a world filled with bigotry and hate was not acceptable. I started copying and acting like the other boys in my class, discussing girls like they were some sort of toy when all I really wanted to talk about was boys. I felt like a lost soul and didn’t know what to do. So I just repressed those feelings and told myself I was going to be “straight” if it’s the last thing I did.

Throughout high school, I actively participated in basketball, track and field, and volleyball. I was what one would consider a “jock”. Although I didn’t feel like that at all. Jocks weren’t meant to be gay, or so I was told. If you were gay, openly gay that is, and played any masculine sport in high school, you wouldn’t last long on any team. So, I was “straight”. I dated girls throughout high school, but never slept with any of them, because it just wasn’t what I wanted. I wasn’t attracted to any of these girls, but I put up a front because high school is a cruel place, and being a homosexual amongst 1200 other students is social suicide. It was like a goldfish, and being thrown into a tank of 1200 piranha. I heard what other students talked about; the names they called guys they suspected to be gay; for example, fuckin’ faggot, fudge packer, homo etc. etc. The list goes on, but you get the idea. Once you’re found out, you are socially humiliated. I didn’t want that, not one bit. But I found myself following suit and making fun of these “suspected” homosexuals. I hated myself for it and it was killing me inside.

Time pressed on, and I had my first experience with a man in about the eleventh grade. He was much older then myself, but passionate nonetheless; I was excited, but hated it at the same time. I hate myself for doing what I did and I felt as if I was a lost soul in this world. I was insecure, unhappy, and scared. I lived in a small city, and was nervous to walk around town and be spotted by the guy I had met. This first experience turned into another and another. Always resulting in me being pissed off at what I had just done. I felt like I was betraying myself for being gay. Once again, I hated myself, and prayed – I don’t know what or who I prayed to – but I prayed I would wake up normal. Normal in the sense that I could grow up and live in the heterosexual world, without hate and without the humiliation; I was hoping that I would suddenly wake up one morning and finally get that hard-on for a hot actress or playboy model. Later in my life (which I will explain) I realized I just had not met the right men and didn’t have the right guidance. This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. You weren’t supposed to grow up afraid of of your own feelings. I felt as if I were that stray black sheep that nobody wanted.

At this point I was in denial and fearful of the future; I was lonely, self-conscious, unaware and lost.

I felt like that for the longest time, but I kept it hidden and it hurt so much. I thought I would be able to get through my life this way. Get through to that day when I could get married and hopefully be able to repress these feeling once and for all.

When I started college I also started working out and lifting weights; not only to get fit and stay in shape, but as an outlet for my aggression. Yet again, I met guys there, who were attracted to women. So I would do what the average, horny guy would do. Check out the all the hot women and comment on their “assets”. It was the norm everyday. I would meet up with my buddies at the gym, we would workout, check out the girls, and comment. I would be secretly commenting in my own head on the hot older guys that worked out there. It was bittersweet; I was accepted, but I wasn’t truly accepting who I was.

My third and final year of college finally rolls around. And this brings us to the present day. Nights have grown long, sleeping has become harder, and I find myself trying to shut out all the negativity in the world and try to accept who I am. Each day, being in the closet, it was killing me and eating at me inside. It was physically and emotionally exhausting. I ultimately met a few amazing men, who have gave me the greatest support I could have ever got. They told me, there is no right time to come out, and it just gets harder with time. They said that being young, you have your whole life to live. I didn’t want to end up that 40 year old married man still in the closet.

I am a 21 year old young man, and I have told myself that I want to live an honest life, not only with myself but with my family and friends.

I have been holding this “burden” my whole life and I sat up one night, for I don’t remember how long, thinking about how I was going to come out. I set out to just tell my sister because we have never really kept anything from each other and we are able talk about everything. So I knew she had to be the first person I told. She was coming home to visit on November 20th; I just couldn’t wait that long. So I decided to send her a text message the next day that would, ultimately, change my life as I know it.

It was probably the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. I had so much running through my head at that moment. I was scared of rejection, scared that I would tear my family apart, and lose some of the most important people in my life. But I had to pull through and do what I promised myself I would do. So I sent it, that text message that lifted so much weight off my shoulders. The whole thing went so much better than I expected. She told me she loved me and that it would never change, no matter who I was or who I was attracted to. And of course, me coming out to her was accompanied by a million and one questions, all of which I was willing to answer. I have yet to see her, but am excited for the day I can hug her, and thank her for being one of the greatest people in my life.

After this, I felt like I was on a mission. Next up, one of my best friends, Stacie.

Stacie and I have been friends for a few years, and the fact that she lived a fair distance from me, I thought it would be very easy for me to talk to her. So I told her I had to tell her something. And she had a panic attack. She thought I was going to tell her I hated her and didn’t want to be friends anymore. And when I told her I was gay, I read,

“OMG ANGELO. Is that it? That is what you gave me a panic attack for?” I laughed so hard and I was instantly happier.

“If you think you’re going to get rid of me by telling me this, you got another thing coming,” she exclaimed. She told me she loved me either way and nothing would ever change that. She is awesome and we have never been closer.

But then I got a text message back from my sister, telling me something I had totally forgotten.

She said, “You know you have to tell Mom and Dad right.” The moment of happiness came to a close. But I knew it was something that should have been done a long time ago.

I couldn’t bare telling my dad face to face, so when he went out I sat my Mom down. Of course, she had to have her cigarette because she thought I was gonna give her some horrible news like I was sick or had a disease or something. But not quite; I told her I was attracted to men! She was shocked, but told me she always had the slightest idea that I was. I was shocked at that. I thought I was the greatest impersonator of a straight person. She got up and hugged me for what seemed like forever. She told me she loved me no matter what and started to cry. I couldn’t hold back my emotions this time, and I started to cry. I am a man; I just told my mother I was gay, and i was crying. It was probably one of the most relieving moments of my life. She told me she was 100% fine with it, and she was proud that I had the courage to tell her. I went out that night, and my Mom talked to my Dad.

My Dad took the news pretty hard and when I got home that night, he wouldn’t look at me or even talk to me. It hurt, but I knew he would come around with time.

During the time I was out, I picked up my friends for an art festival that happens the first friday of every month. Which is why it’s called “First Friday.” But nonetheless, I was late picking them up because I was having my heart to heart with my Mom. They were pissed and asked why I was late. So I told them. Them being my best guy friend and his girlfriend. My buddy looked at me, patted me on the back and said, “Well thanks for telling me bud!” He was completely okay with it and I was surprised. Guys my age are extremely homophobic but he accepted me and thought nothing of it.

Later that night when I was home, my other best friend, Sharon, came knocking on my door. I told her I had to tell her something earlier in the night, but I didn’t expect her to come by so unannounced. I eventually told her, and she laughed. Not at the fact that I was gay, but at the fact that I waited so long to tell her. It kind of weirded me out because she had so many questions. “How long have you know? Have you been with a guy before? What kind of guys are you interested in?” It went on and on, but it was a great conversation. I never laughed so hard.

That day was one of the greatest days of my life. My Mom, my Dad, my sister, and 4 of my closest friends all know my biggest secret. I have never felt so free. I was relieved of a burden that I had been holding in forever. I have never been happier and can’t stop smiling. I am a new man and ready to take on the world. It feels as if life is an adventure now, waiting to be discovered.

I know this is just the beginning of my whole coming out, yet somehow I feel this is the hardest part of the whole process. I am a strong and resilient individual, and I now know who I am! I know there are going to be bumps along the way, but as long as I have my family and friends, life will be grand!

image by Ann Sophiee

I’ve never I am gay ever since childhood. Whilst every other girl would play kiss chasey with the boys, I’d rather have sat under the tree with my head in a book, whilst hiding the fact I was sticking my tounge out in disgust at their actions. When I reached high school, I knew that I was going to be able to hide forever, because whilst my friends were off with their first boyfriends, I was keeping myself busy with activities such as glee and school debates. That was until I was 17 and raped by a boy from our rival school’s football team in an attack that left me hospitalised for two weeks.

Several more weeks passed without me returning to school, due to sickness and trauma. Before long, I was forced to face the fact I was pregnant. This made reporting the issue to the police so much more tramuatising because not only did I have to report the attack itself, but also the fact I was pregnant and convince them I hadn’t consented, as he was saying. It meant telling complete strangers I was gay, and it meant telling my parents their only child was gay.

A woman police officer took my statement. She was very polite, and when I told her that I didn’t consent because I knew I was gay, she didn’t question, she accepted. She then asked what my intentions were for my unborn child and I said that I hadn’t really had time to think about that because everything else was so overwhelming. She offered to call a counsellor for me and arrange for me to visit regularly, and she also called the local clinic. I attended my first appointment and came away sure of what I wanted to do. Six and a half months later I would give birth. At that time, I would give my child up for adoption.

The police officer stood by my during the lenghty court proceedings. She sat with me at my family home when I told my parents I was gay and was going to give my baby up for adoption. She even cried with me when he was charged with my rape and aggrevated assault and given a jail sentence. Tears of joy that he was taken away and that I was safe.

On February 18th, 2008, I gave birth to a chubby baby boy, 9lb. 8oz, and handed him over to his new family. In the months that followed, I became depressed and twice attempted to take my own life. The police officer stepped back into my life one cold, snowing night when I was found passed out at the park, having OD’ed on perscription drugs.

After that, she pretty much refused to leave my side because she was that worried about me. My parents didn’t approve, they wanted her to go back to her job and leave me to heal. What they didn’t understand was that she essentially became part of the healing process.

I fell deeply for her. It wasn’t until almost a year after I gave birth that she told me she was gay, too. That wasn’t big enough, though. She then told me she had a five year old daughter, the result of a rape. We began dating, casually at first, but before long I knew this was it!

Now, some eighteen months later, her daughter says she loves me and she likes that I make her mommy smile. They both came to my graduation. She came with me to visit my son with his new family. He looks so much like me it made me cry and I wanted to scream because I couldn’t believe that I’d given birth to this perfect thing but I couldn’t bare to look at him because of how he was conceived. She understood that and when I told her I wanted to talk to the counsellor about it, she came back with me and now I’m in a support group for the victims of rape.

Things are so much better than they were back then. I’m slowly, piece by piece, working things out, getting my life back together. She and I now live together, with my parent’s blessing. Yes, people frown because she’s nine years my senior. Yes, our relationship is frowned upon because the old town people think it’s wrong when I’m 19 and she’s 28. To them I say what should it matter? We’re so in love and without her, there is every chance my parents would have lost their only child, my son his biological mother, my girlfriend the only woman she’s truly loved. I’m so happy that from such hard times came something so much more amazing that I could have ever imagined I deserved.

I had my first girlfriend in seventh grade. My mom never really said much of anything. I had another two in high school. She shook her head. I didn’t get it. How could my parents seemingly not care?
I then found out my parents’ best friend, Jim, who was also my piano teacher and someone I loved dearly, was gay. No wonder it was no big deal to my parents. But I found out, it was not the same for Jim.
He was in his early forties, and his mother still would not accept him as he was. When he died about five years ago, his mother still could not cope with the fact that her grown son was gay.
My parents supported me without saying a word. I was lucky.

Source: Njrebel.com

I was about 16 and I was a freshman in high school.It was very hard because you could tell i was gay without me showing it.So evry one knew despite several attempts from me at denial.I went through the worst rebelious stage at that point, taking the car and wrecking it, going out with different guys, much older than myself, I was lost and felt there was noone to talk to so my behavior got worst and worst.Finally I got to the point where I was tired of being uncomfortable with myself and getting in trouble and I came out to my grandmother.She didnt care and already knew and seeing how easy that was I went and came out to everyone through text but everyone already knew and luckily, I didnt get any static. I slowly began to become more comfortable and love myself.Now im 19 and im happy.So to all you young men out there your not alone and you have love and support all around you.

I have known I liked men since I was very young (I’m 20 now), That was never a question. The question was always weather or not I liked women at all. About a year to a year and a half ago I found out that I don’t like women in the same way that I like men and I am, in fact, gay. I always thought I was pretty good at hiding my sexual orientation but looking back on it now, many people saw right through it and I just refused to acknowledge it. I’v been asked many times if I am gay, though I am not feminine or flamboyant. But I can be pretty stereotypical, but I never considered it as something that gave me away because that’s just what I like, it’s not because I’m gay. Anyways, when I was very young, before I even knew what it really meant to be gay, my mother used to ask me not to be gay when I grew up. She was not saying this in a mean or offensive way on purpose. She works with many older gay men who she sees without families and in some cases without anyone significant in their lives and she just did not want that for me. So I promised her every time she asked (even once when I was old enough to understand that I did like men) that I would not be gay. I was nervous and unsure of who I really was then but I am not now. And it’s obvious to me now that she said this because she saw signs from a young age that I would be gay. As much as I know she did not mean it in a harmful way, I am having trouble coming out to my parents and others now, in fear that she will not take it well. I don’t want to add more stress in my mother’s already stressful life, but I want to be out, I’m sick of having to hide who I am. I live in Massachusetts, I go to art school, I know my roommates will be accepting (though it will be weird at first). I have come out to five of my closest friends and they all took it very well and nothing has really changed but I have still had to hide my feelings when I am with them around other people, and I really do not enjoy it.

Source: Inspiration Falls

I decided it was time to open the closet door when I had entered into a relationship that seemed like it was going to be a little bit more than experimentation. I really liked this girl and she didn’t deserve to be hidden away. I called my older sister who I never really had been close to but for some reason it just seemed like the right choice. I was afraid of her rejecting me but she welcomed me with open arms. She asked when I knew and who this girl was. She was excited that I found somebody, not what parts they had. Soon after I told the rest of my family at a diner, my sister an I already making inside jokes that none of them understood. She was that helping, understanding hand that I need to take my first step out of that confined darkness.

I was my own victim of stereotypes, and self-denial; my longing to be accepted and loved. Even if that meant sacrificing my own soul and dignity.

I hope others will find my on-going story enlightening, if not in someway comforting.

For me, I found a life outside my closet. A life that transcends the mere sexual aspects of being gay. I was able to find myself.

http://www.straighttothecloset.blogspot.com/

I had always envisioned that once I was out to my parents, I would feel liberated, that a great burden would be lifted. Well, I was forcibly outed a few days ago when my parents found my “adult files” on my computer, and I’ve found no such freedom.

After having a couple of conversations with my parents about it, they’ve come to grips that I am actually gay, that this is not a phase or a passing thing. As predicted, my mom started crying, and asking me if I had fully considered what my life would now mean. I know it’s a small consolation, but I didn’t apologize for being gay. I may be sorry that it came out like this, but I feel like I have nothing to apologize for.

The worst part now, though, is that I’m feeling lonelier than ever. Perhaps it was bad luck that this all happened as I am starting law school far away from my friends and brothers, but I really wish I had someone else to talk to about what I’m going through.

I know that this will be a process; this was just one step in what is going to be a long journey that will last the rest of my life. It may be entirely trite, but all I really want is for someone to tell me it’s going to be ok.