That's Gay

I am gay. It took me thirteen years to realize this, seventeen to be able to say it, and nineteen to be ok with it. I don't convey my sexual orientation to others often, but I do find a need for it now. For a variety of reasons I have decided not to use my name on this letter. My years prior to "coming out" were not filled with physical abuse, verbal abuse or anything of that sort. I was lucky, in that respect. However, I did encounter my occasional personal outbursts of self-hatred. Anytime I thought of a guy or went on the internet to explore my tabooed sexual fantasies, there would always be a ten-minute period afterward where I would look in the mirror and feel an enormous amount of guilt. Thoughts of God, my father finding out, and my ugliness would race through my mind. I would always end each mirror session with a prayer and a promise never to indulge in such things again.

I had a girlfriend. I thought I loved her but after almost every date I would go online and visit gay websites. I couldn't understand it. I ended up breaking up with her, unable to give her a good explanation why.

When I began my freshman year here at Clarkson, I told myself I would work on losing what I believed to be homosexual characteristics. Living with someone helped with not looking at gay websites. Being on an all male floor also helped. There was so much machismo. All I had to do was to act like everyone else. I felt good about my situation. I felt as if I was "curing" myself. This period however was very brief. Two months into the semester, I started getting really depressed. I was irritable. Also my fellow hall mates started to suspect that I was indeed gay and would tease me about it.

During Christmas break I went to a party. At the party I meet a former classmate who had come out. I couldn't stop looking at him, not because I was interested in him but more because of the fact that he was gay. I had so many questions. Throughout the night, I would randomly ask him about various aspects of gay culture and his experiences.

I remember the moment that I accepted myself as a gay man. It was the beginning of my second semester. I was looking at atomsfilms.com and saw that they had a gay and lesbian section. I wanted to visit it so badly but I couldn't. I asked myself why I didn't allow myself to look? What were my reasons? I then realized that my reasons were all selfish. I didn't want to face my father and tell him I was gay. I didn't want to deal with society. I never thought of the people who would be affected by my suppressive behavior. I thought of my ex-girlfriend. How things were so perfect but yet I was not satisfied. Would this happen to me again but only this time I would be married and have children? That is when I came to my decision. I was gay and the first person who would know about it would be my father.

It had taken me a week to tell my father. I had mentioned to him that something was bothering me and then the next night it came out, "Dad, I'm gay." I felt a tremendous amount of relief. I felt for the first time peace. He, on the other hand, did not share the same emotion. He began to cry. I had hurt my father. That night I was on the phone with my parents for about three hours. My dad would warn me of the homosexual sub-culture, AIDS, and social acceptance. When my father couldn't handle talking to me my mother would. She would tell me that I was not gay. That sexuality was such a small part of someone's makeup. That I should not let it take over my life. The night ended with me promising my dad that I would not fool around with another man until I came home and we sorted this all out.

During my conversation with my parents my roommate had walked in. I had asked him to leave but felt that I had to tell him as well. It was late at night and it was only he and another hall mate in the lounge. I told him that I was gay. Fearing the worst I immediately promised I would never come on to him and that nothing had changed. He calmed me down and said that he didn't care. He did ask me to keep it a secret from the rest of the hall and made the other boy in the room promise to do the same. I was so relieved and I started to truly respect my roommate.

When I came home for spring break, I found out that my parents started seeing a family counselor and that at the end of the week we would go together and speak about the events that had occurred in the past month. The experience was uncomfortable but extremely helpful. It had been made clear to me that my family would love me regardless of my sexual orientation. The love that my father had for me was greater than any homophobia he had. I was thankful. The semester ended quickly and I found myself back home. I had found out about a gay youth support group. They had socials every Friday night. It was great. I had met people that I could identify with and could share certain discussions that I didn't have with my other friends. I felt as if I belonged.

My experience was a very fortunate one. I have heard of stories and know people that had horrible "coming out" experiences. I guess the biggest lesson I learned from coming out is that my parents love me, not my sexuality. My dad still makes it clear to me that he does not approve of homosexuality but he loves me and to me that's all that really matters.