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Column: The edge of coming out

'If there was a way I could go back in time I would have sat her down and told her myself.'

%22I+don%E2%80%99t+remember+getting+much+sleep+that+night.+I+cried+quietly+to+myself+with+the+voices+in+my+head+telling+me+I+was+a+broken+toy+that+needed+to+be+fixed.%22
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Column: The edge of coming out

"I don’t remember getting much sleep that night. I cried quietly to myself with the voices in my head telling me I was a broken toy that needed to be fixed."

Photo by Stephanie Rosas

"I don’t remember getting much sleep that night. I cried quietly to myself with the voices in my head telling me I was a broken toy that needed to be fixed."

Photo by Stephanie Rosas

Photo by Stephanie Rosas

"I don’t remember getting much sleep that night. I cried quietly to myself with the voices in my head telling me I was a broken toy that needed to be fixed."

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I’m standing outside the front door. It’s 9 p.m. This isn’t real, this is simply a dream. It’s all one bad nightmare. No more secrets and no more lying. Everything will finally be out on the table. A big weight’s about to be lifted off my shoulders.

I don’t think I’m ready for it to sink in.

“Well, it can’t get any worse than it is now…” I thought to myself.

I enter in to the sound of dishes being put away dramatically. I take a few steps from the entryway to the kitchen and take one glance at my mom who’s slowly taking in the news that her only son is not heterosexual. He’s gay.

How did she find out? Social media played a big part. My mom found pictures of my boyfriend and me on Twitter. Now, obviously her finding out this way was a slap in the face. I never pictured my mom finding out this way. I was on my way home from my boyfriend’s house when she texted me the pictures she had found.

If there was a way I could go back in time I would have sat her down and told her myself.

My mom and I didn’t exchange kind words to each other that night. I sat in my room crying and questioning if this would get better. My mom was hurt I wasn’t open to telling her about my sexuality. I had a fear that once she knew who I really was then she wouldn’t love me anymore.

I don’t remember getting much sleep that night. I cried quietly to myself with the voices in my head telling me I was a broken toy that needed to be fixed. I was angry that being gay could even be seen as a disappointment to someone, especially someone who’s close to me like my mom.

The next morning my mom and I talked and tears were shed. “I love you for you and being gay doesn’t change that.” My mom questioned if I even knew I was attracted to guys, and I assured her I am. I explained how I knew I wasn’t straight and how I am the same person I was before I walked in the house the night before. All I needed was for my mom to understand that this is who I am.

Since I have come out to my family, everything has looked up. The support from friends and family is overwhelming. I used to be scared to open up and share things about who I liked or who I’m dating, but now I am able to go to my mom for advice about relationships.

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2 Comments

2 Responses to “Column: The edge of coming out”

  1. Aunt Cindy on February 26th, 2018 6:18 PM

    Sharing your personal story and the way it unfolded, took courage. I applaud you. I have always applauded you.

    Love

  2. Cassandra elias on March 19th, 2018 6:34 PM

    Legend of journalism! ! Love you lots and thanks for giving the world your story .

If you want a picture to show with your comment, go get a gravatar.




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