There is No Coming Out Story

Today, a kid in my school, who I'm kind of friends with, got kicked out of his house for being gay. He'd been outed by his brother to his parents, and they just aren't supportive. It reminded me a little bit of how I'd been outed to my parents. They never kicked me out but sometimes I wish they had.

I came to the conclusion that I was gay when I was twelve. I'd always known that I'd liked guys, and I knew that being gay meant you liked guys but I just never thought that I could be gay. Gay was a word that my friends and I used to describe things we didn't like, so in my little head I obviously couldn't be gay.

However, when I was twelve I put two and two together and came to the realization that I was gay. After a little while, I decided that I could tell my two best friends. I told them in school during one period. Well by the next period people were calling my gay and giving me strange looks. It turns out that one of my 'friends', Kyle, had taken the liberty of telling his whole class the next period.

Despite my attempt to fight the rumors, everybody knew anyway. Except for my family. Foolishly enough, I came out to my sister. Immediately she told my parents. Then I had to have a talk with them about how I couldn't be gay, and how it says in the bible that homosexuality isn't allowed. (My parents aren't religious. My mother is Jewish too. I don't know why they even brought it up). Then my brother over heard me talking to my then boyfriend a few weeks later and went and told my parents. And once again I had to have the same talk. After that my parents and I just fought for years and didn't get along. It was around these times that I began to with that they would just kick me out, or even hit me so that I could call Child Protective Services and get out of there. They were never, ever physically abusive and in their defense they didn't know how to deal with the situation, but the emotional toil they put me through was difficult, so much so that now I don't really have very many emotions today.

By the time I was fourteen I had come to terms with it, and by then I would tell most people that I was gay if I was comfortable enough, the exception being family members. However, around the time I started high school my family had become well enough acquainted with the idea. We don't talk about it, but instead of saying "when you get married to a girl," they say "when you get married to a person," which is progress I guess. My mother is the only one who's still rooting for team straight (she asks me if I get girls' numbers -__-). My brother is the only one who's outright said that I was gay, which I guess is pretty cool. And in terms of other people, everyone can figure that I'm gay. And if they can't I correct them.

When it comes down to it, I think my parents would rather I engage in multiple sex partners at once than be gay. I remember once, my friends Carla and Isabella were in my room with me, and my mother was coming in to ask Carla something. We heard whispering to my mother though, saying "Make sure you knock first, just in case."

Just in case what? Just in case I was having sex with both Carla and Isabella? So yeah, progress is a slow thing.

Anyway, the point of this was to say that I don't have a big coming out story. I know a lot of gay blogs have one, or are about guys in the closet or something of that sort; I don't have that to offer. There was never some great epiphanous moment where I told my parents and we hugged and they said they accept me blah, blah, blah. Maybe one day, but probably not.

In other, way, way, way terrible news Alexander McQueen died. He was a really esteemed and important British designer; one of my favorites. Here's a video of one of my favorite collections of all time:



R.I.P.