Coming Out To My Parents And Friends:
Even as a child, I knew that I was “different,” but I wasn’t sure whether it was right or wrong. I knew I liked boys. As I was born in a small village that had a population of about thirty people, I had not had a chance to socialize with many children. Three girls and one boy had lived in this village. We weren’t the same age. There was an age difference of a couple of years between us. We all played together when we weren’t working in the fields with our parents. My grandfather had three cows. In the summer, when there was no school, I had to take them to pasture. In the nearby pasture there was Mario (the boy from my village) with his cows. While we were looking after the cows, we were playing in the woods. We used to play with our “peepees.” According to our age (we were seven and eleven years old), our playing wasn’t considered as anything serious. Namely, we entered that phase when boys were beginning to realize that the penis can arouse something much more exciting, other than just completing its physical function. As we were growing up, we had stopped with the game and decided not to talk about it ever again.
In the elementary school, I liked some of the boys. At the age of 12 I was madly in love with a boy named Entoni from my class, but, of course, he was into girls, and they were into him, too. At the time there was no Internet, and there was no discussion on the subject of homosexuality. It was a taboo. I only knew that I was gay and that I have to hide it deep inside. I liked that boy so much, that I decided to take the risk. One day, while we were playing at the school playground, we were watching other children playing football.
As always, we talked about everything and at one point I told him: “I have to confess something to you.” He was looking at me smiling and perplexed. “I’m gay,” I said. For several seconds he remained confused staring at me and then he started to laugh. He said: “Oh, are you kidding me ?!” I had no idea what to say after his reaction. I started to laugh, too. “Of course I’m kidding! I just wanted to see your reaction.”, I told him. That was my first attempt to get out of the closet. After this incident, we continued to hang out. Nothing has changed. We remained good friends.
I had the need to share my secret with someone. I felt helpless. There was no one who I could talk to about that. I felt like a thief, like I was doing something wrong. I thought it was just a phase of growing up and that it will be over soon, so I would become a “normal” man like everyone else. I didn’t realized that I already was one of the normal children and I wasn’t the only one with that problem. I had never even considered to talk to my parents about the problem that had been bothering me. I didn’t even want to think about that.
The years went by. I grew up. I was having sex with girls and boys. I had definitely realized that I wasn’t interested into girls. The guys I slept with were in the phase of experimentation and they were only interested in sex without emotions. Of course, neither did I want to tell them my truth. That’s why I acted I was in the same experimental phase as they were. That stage continued until I met Matthew. He was the first one who I confessed to I was gay and the first boy who was in love with me. That was my first successful coming out at the age of 22.
In the age of eighteen, I had lost many friends, even good ones, but most of them weren’t as “modern” and tolerant as they claimed to be. I simply wasn’t able to reveal the truth about my sexuality to them.
I met Catherine when I was 24 and working in a car body shop. . She was two years younger than me. Slender and arrogant girl who I disliked at the first sight. At the second glance, I started to dislike her even more, after I saw her in a discotheque with a guy who I found attractive. After a few days, I went to the city to drink some coffee with friends. Guess who joined us? – Catherine, the arrogant and skinny bitch. But I said to myself that I would be polite and I give it one more shot to get to know her better.. I thought perhaps she wasn’t that hateful as it seemed to me for the first two times. Thank goodness I did that.
Catherine and I became best friends. I loved her sarcastic sense of humor that was very similar to mine. We spent a lot of time together, until she got married. It’s always been comfortable in her company.
We still hang out sometimes and it amuses me. Catherine has gained my confidence in short time and in most cases we were like-minded, so I decided to admit to her I was gay. While we were dancing together embraced at the disco, I told her: “You know what, I’m gay!” She looked at me and hugged me even harder. She told me: “I’m so glad you told me that. I love you very much!” It was one of the most beautiful days of my life!
After Catherine, everything was becoming a little easier, although I should had still been careful about telling stuff to various people. After a little while, I confided to my brother and to a few good friends. They all took it very well..
Frankly, from today’s point of view, if my friends don’t accept me as I am, it means they are not really my friends and I don’t need them in my life!
I never thought I would be able to confess everything to my parents but with time, it had become unavoidable. I was 37 years old , when the global economic crisis was near its peak. The business in my computer shop began to fall sharply. One day I was so nervous, that I went to a nearby pub and got drunk as a fool. I arrived home the next day at 6 a.m.. Mom was at the kitchen making bread. She was worried about me. She asked me if everything was all right. I told her: “ Don’t worry, mom. Everything is fine, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” We sat down at the table, she was quite worried. I told her: “Mom, I’m embarrassed, but I have something to tell you. Something has been bothering me over these years. I don’t know how you’ll accept it, but I cannot keep this inside for any longer. ( Mom, I love men!” She took me by the hand and said: “ Son, don’t worry about it, I’ve figured it out a long time ago. You’re my son and I will always love you, no matter what!” The idyllic approval had soon turned into numerous questions and statements:
- Mom: “Are we guilty of this? Have we made a mistake while raising you?”
- Me: “You’re not guilty of anything. That’s how I was born. Nobody can take the blame for this!”
- Mom: “You’re right, son, it exists since the civilization.”
- Me: “Thanks, Mom!” We hugged.
- Mom: “Are you in a relationship now?”
- Me: “No, and I don’t remember when that was.”
- Mom: “When you get a boyfriend, do not bring it to our house. The neighbors would mock us. The whole village would turn us into ridicule!
- ME: Ok, mom.
However, I was keeping inside all the things I wanted to scream out loud.This is what I should had told her,,but I knew it would be too hurtful for her: : What the f**k? Neighbors? Village? What?! What?! You must be kidding me! I’m your son! Are neighbors more important than me? Incredible! She left me speechless by saying these hurtful words.
I asked her where my dad was. She said I shouldn’t worry, and that she would tell him. Usually, when situation got serious, mom was there to solve the problem.
We can name this moment – Coming Out To My Parents…
The majority of my friends and acquaintances took it very well.. Of course, there were those who had pretended to be tolerant to this, with a wide smile on their faces, but as soon as I wasn’t looking, they would made fun of me. Perhaps it was better that way.
Given time, I will get rid of all the liars and parasites.
I hope this kind of struggle for young people will be easier in the modern age than it was for me. If your friends or relatives don’t support you, or they don’t want to hear you, pay no attention to them. You don’t need these kind of people in your life. Be happy, strong and proud of yourself!
Remember, life is just one step out of the closet. Get out of it, spread your wings and fly!