Out of the Shadows, Into My Truth

In honor of Coming Out Day, I’m telling my story. Young folx, know that the things you’re experiencing, others have experienced them too. This is my story. I hope it helps you.

1. I’m thinking of a discussion question a student group from years ago about whether the concept of coming out is a white thing and where this intersects with race. I still have no answers. I don’t know if and when it matters. To say white folx own the process of revealing who we love is problematic, but a specific narrative can’t be separated from the group of people who did it (most coming out stories and films when I was young featured white actors).

2. I was 16 the first time I told someone. I told my oldest friend, T. She wasn’t surprised. We are still close to this day.

3. I was 17. I told the rest of my close friends — mostly girls. They were not surprised and were just glad we could finally acknowledge the obvious.

4. I told my sister when I was 19. She called her husband and said he owes her a quarter. She’s been a great support and strong ally.

5. That same day, I told my parents. Mom stormed out of the house and disappeared for hours. Dad tried to wrap around that I hadn’t had sex and my male friend I’d spent the night with was straight. It was traumatic when my parents found out my neighbor up the street and I touched each other’s penises. He was a year older. Those neighbors moved away shortly. I still wonder to this day if he’s ok. When I was 14 and they found naked guys in the browser history, dad said they wouldn’t hold it against me. The shame and self-loathing led me to pattern of cutting that would take 11 years to shake. I still have scars.

6. It would be a decade before mom would slowly come around, open to meeting boyfriends. I was in my thirties before I brought a guy home to meet them. I’d been out for almost 12 years. Mom really came around in her last days of life. Dad is a fierce ally now.

7. Extended family all knows. Parents wanted me to keep quiet because of their concerns. I am not especially close so I honored their wish. Eventually people all learned. Most didn’t care. I never got to tell my paternal grandfather before he died. I regret that.

8. I’ve been out at every job I’ve ever had. It’s been scary. But worth it. It’s a huge risk, but has also meant I don’t have the stress of hiding. I’m sure some people have said horrible things behind my back, but that’s about them, not about me.

9. I believed that by coming out and moving into activism, that action would transform my self-hatred into self-love. Boy, was I wrong. I love myself now, but it’s been a long road to get here.

10. I believe as older queers (30+) it’s our responsibility to live openly so that they younger queers can see someone that way. We give permission people to be themselves through our stories. When I was in my early twenties, I got so much strength from older queers. I’ve been a panelist in LGBTQ panels at universities and workplaces my entire public life. I still get butterflies in my stomach before each one.

11. I’m a Black man, and it’s visible to strangers. I don’t have to come out as Black. Unlike my race, which you can see, somehow people don’t figure out my sexual orientation right away. I have to tell every new person in my life. I have to be deliberate and tell people every time and it’s still scary. Every time. That doesn’t stop me.

12. Coming out isn’t mandatory. There are reasons not to. Only you can decide.