Posts tagged “coming out”
I'm a gay man who grew up closeted in Trinidad, attending a Catholic boys school, contemplating suicide. I'm writing this for gay kids who need to hear what I needed to hear then: it gets better. Leave your town, come out to friends, fall in love. I was so wrong to despair.
At 17, I anonymously published a coming-out article in a Trinidad newspaper that unexpectedly filled my inbox with hundreds of emails from closeted locals, sparking a mailing list and real-world community. Ten years later, I'm sharing the original piece, cringe-worthy condescension and all.
Four years ago I blogged about a cute geek from an Apple Switch ad, convinced he was gay. He denied it. Turns out I was right -- he came out last year. Great news, except I was apparently one of the creepy guys who made that period harder for him. Sorry, Jeremiah.
Really enjoying my new job at Yahoo! The team is great, the work is genuinely interesting, and a long boozy leaving do revealed nobody said anything homophobic all night, which is reassuring since I still haven't figured out how to come out at work.
Lance Arthur's writing about being closeted and a late bloomer resonates deeply with me. I identify with all of it: the fake persona built from fear, the late puberty, the long showers. Turned out okay in the end. No grand conclusion here, just a tired nod of recognition.
Shoutout to John at Rainbow Villa, a nearly-20 semi-closeted gay boi whose writing reminds me of my younger self. He was complaining nobody links to him, so here you go, kid.
Being geeky and gay means double the teasing, but also double the resilience. I'd share my own coming-out story but don't have time to do it justice. Short version: all-male school, no friends, and I never even told my mom. Happy birthday, mom.
Four years ago I came out, and with my sexuality came everything else I'd been suppressing: the twirly wrists, the giggling, the dancing. I'm not proud of being gay specifically, but I'm proud of finally being myself. And four years ago, I couldn't have said that.
A poem about coming out to my parents, fearing I'll become a stranger to them, but pleading that this stranger still needs their love to survive.
Being surrounded by people who don't know I'm gay has brought back every awful feeling I'd forgotten: the guilt, the vigilance, the claustrophobia of hiding. Acceptance has to keep happening. I refuse to be recloseted again. I'll out myself, help others, and fight everything that keeps closets closed.
