How I Came Out

Hi, everyone. It's been a while, hasn't it? For my return post, I am going to publish my Coming Out essay.

As some of you may recall, I wrote an essay about being gay in order to come out. The assignment was to "break a social norm and document it," so I wrote about coming out to my parents and close friends. The system at my school is such that all essays are turned into an online forum that any student in the class can read.

I turned in my essay at 11:30 PM the night it was due, and I expected none of my classmates to bother reading it because they had their own essays to turn in. However, I was wrong. Within 30 minutes, several people had replied to it and several more had commented on my facebook. In other words, the cat was out of the bag rather quickly.

This happened on December 3rd, 2009, and I did not post my essay online because I did not want my teacher to search for it online to see if I had plagiarized or something. Well, I have gotten the essay back with a grade, so now I can post it online. Keep in mind, it's one of the worst essays I've written because I did not have much time to do so, but I managed to pull of an A because of the sheer audacity of the essay.

It's a very long essay, and the first draft was about double the current length, so I apologize if it seems hastened. Oh ya, there are also a few references to movies. See if you can spot them. :)

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I spent many hours brainstorming social norms to break after receiving Action Task Two. It had to be daring but with consequences I could live with. I had many great ideas, and after much deliberation, I settled on the most ambitious one of all: I decided to come out of the closet.

I decided to break the familial and ____(my school)_____ norm of heterosexuality. This norm forces all deviants into “the closet.” My closet represents the facade of heterosexuality I constructed in order to hide my homosexuality. I trapped myself, and I feared leaving the closet because I did not want to face the disapproval of society.

One example of the closet comes in the form of MASH. This game calls for one player to come up with two ideal spouses while the other player comes up with two horrific spouses. I became nervous whenever I played because I had to quickly come up with two super hot women or else I would look like a total loser, or worse, a homosexual. My brain went through a frenzied thought process whenever I played: Whom did I see on the cover of that magazine? Was it Carmen Electra? She seemed attractive, but isn't she kinda trashy? I recall reading something about Megan Fox being considered the hottest woman in the world, so I will go with her. Ok, now I just need one more. Oh damn, I can't think of anyone else! Ok, calm down. Just go with Carmen Electra, and ignore the raised eyebrows that you receive. People thinking you go for skanky, absurdly busty women is far better than people thinking you go for rippling pectorals.

I went so far as to memorize lists of the top ten hottest women in the world. Meanwhile, my straight classmates would dredge up names of obscure beauties, and every guy in class would sigh and agree. Of course, I would do the same because to show confusion would mark me as different, and I could not accept different.

Sadly, there exist more manifestations of the closet. I find one in particular difficult to admit because I have worked so hard to cover it up: As an Eighth Grader, I read, and loved, Twilight. I think I devoured the book in a few days and eagerly waited for the sequel. I once mentioned this to a friend who remarked that she thought the book was for girls. As soon as I heard that, my alarm bells went off: How could I have been so stupid? Of course it was for women. No wonder the author lavished so much attention on Edward. Ok, just calm down. Pretend you read a different book, and remember, never, under any circumstances, mention this again. And I didn't, until now.

While in the closet, I constantly worried about how others would perceive my actions. I reviewed everything I was about to say to make sure it didn't sound too gay. I even did research to figure out how to hold a normal, heterosexual conversation. I suppressed any thoughts that marked me as a homosexual. In fact, I suppressed the reading of Twilight to such a degree that I can no longer remember the characters or the plot.

The verb “to come out” makes the process sound deceptively easy. In reality, coming out means going up against one of our society's most powerful norms. It means rejecting many of the gender roles that we have carefully created. It means standing up to condemnation and, according to some, damnation. Lastly, it means breaking the perceptions that everyone has of you.

I decided on a simple plan to accomplish this gargantuan task. I would tell my parents, then my twin brother, Eric, and then my closest friends. This prevented the secret from spreading quickly, and it allowed me to tell the most important people first. It also ensured that my parents hear this from my lips and not those of another.

Saturday November 5, 2009
After many aborted attempts, I finally stepped into the kitchen and declared to my parents that I needed to speak to them. My father responded, “You didn't get some girl pregnant did you?” I forced out a laugh and took a moment to savor the delicious irony that was about to unfold.

After a cautious breath, I confessed, “I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time: You need to know that I'm gay.” I expected my parents to say something along the lines of “Oh, we know, but it's okay. You're still the same son we had five minutes ago.” Unfortunately, that did not happen, so I deployed my speech to fill the uncomfortable silence. I calmly explained that I am the same person, that they were the first people to hear this, and that this is not a phase, it's just a part of who I am. While I spoke with confidence, I did not feel that way at all. A river of sweat began to flow down my back, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

My dad warned me that being gay will limit my career opportunities and make it harder to attain success. I pointed out that gay people can reach success, and I used Neil Patrick Harris, David Sedaris, Harvey Milk, and Anderson Cooper as examples. All four accomplished great things despite, or perhaps because of, their homosexuality. Meanwhile, my mother sat with a flabbergasted look on her face. She asked me if I was certain, to which I replied, “Yes,” and she didn't say much after that.

I did not receive the overwhelming support I had hoped for. Why did I not hear, “We still love you”? Maybe they thought it was obvious that they love me, so they neglected to state it. In any case, the experience of telling my parents left me feeling apprehensive about how coming out would work in the future.

November 26, 2009: Thanksgiving Day
On Thanksgiving Day, I told Eric that I am gay. I delayed for weeks because I feared he would reject me. Despite all my concerns, it went better than I could have ever imagined. He assured me that he would “root” for me when I came out at school. He also expressed concern over whether or not people would accept me, whereas my parents seemed more worried about all the opportunities I had lost.

After a few minutes, we were joking about it. One of the first things he said was, “You know what's funny? I thought gay guys were supposed to be stylish, so what happened to you?” Some people think coming out should be serious, but I disagree. It should be nonchalant and comfortable. It should feel liberating and exciting.

After that experience, I decided to come out to my friends. If telling Eric went so well, then surely my friends would accept me without question. After telling Eric, I was drunk with happiness, and I felt as though I could take on the world. Looking back, I must thank Eric for giving me the confidence to carry on.

November 27, 2009
The day after telling Eric, I came out to six of my closest friends all at once. I chose to tell them at the same time because I did not want anybody to be the last to know. Furthermore, if they gossip about it, they can talk to each other instead of spilling the beans to someone else.

I simply said, “I'm gay” without any lead-in, and I attempted to fill the brief silence that followed by saying, “Now we can all end that charade of my heterosexuality. Let's face it: It was getting tiring for all of us.”

Nobody seemed surprised that I am gay, but they seemed startled that I had just come out. After the initial discomfort, my friends expressed strong support. We started joking and chatting, and we even argued about the attractiveness of various actors. I could finally make the observations that I would never have previously allowed to escape my lips. I had been mute for nearly eighteen years and suddenly had discovered my voice, and in doing so, I stumbled upon a marvelous world that I had never known about. Most people take freedom of speech for granted, but I only recently discovered it.

My goal was to free myself from the social norm of heterosexuality. I wanted freedom of expression, freedom to read the books I like, freedom from awkward questions about why I have no girlfriend, freedom to act in any way I desire, and freedom from social judgments. The last item often confuses people because gay people face distressing amounts of prejudice. I see it differently: If I can be open and proud about my homosexuality, then I can do pretty much anything.

Upon reflection, I think I have successfully achieved my goals. I no longer have the shackles of the social expectations for a straight man. I can declare that my first crush was on Aladdin. I can admit to crying during Disney Pixar's Up, while most other guys have to pretend that it didn't move them. I can live a proper life free from the fear of being outed. I no longer have to censor my own speech in order to look more “straight.” My parents saw my homosexuality as a restriction on my career, but I see it as an opening of possibilities.

I could not have chosen a more valuable project. While most of my classmates broke social norms for a short while before returning to normal, I chose a norm that I will continue to break for the rest of my life. I am immensely pleased with how things turned out, and I plan to make this a permanent change in my life.

Before concluding, I must confess one inaccuracy. When I first began the social norm project, I did not intend on making coming out my project. By sheer coincidence, I began the coming out process just after receiving this assignment. In fact, this did not become my project until a few days before Thanksgiving.

While eating dinner, Eric brought up the topic of the social norm project. He told of how Sarah convinced her parents and everyone around her that she would not apply to college and of how her parents panicked and freaked out. Eventually, Sarah confessed that she did intend to apply to college, and her previous antics were fake.

Shortly after dinner, my father approached me, and asked if coming out of the closet was “just part of the project.” I saw in his eyes the longing to hear that I had lied. When I responded “no,” I could tell I had stamped on his hopes. For a moment, he believed that this was all some sort of sick joke and that he had a daring son, not a queer one.

That moment was the most painful one I have endured since coming out. I felt as though I had failed to meet my father's expectations. His question showed that he preferred a lie over the truth when it came to my sexuality, and that hurt. Perhaps I will go to an Ivy League university, but I'm still gay, and thus, in his eyes, I'm a failure.

Nevertheless, that exchange strengthened my resolve to come out. After that, I decided to make coming out into the project that wouldn't end after turning in the essay. I realized I am coming out because I want to be true to myself and tell the truth about myself, and despite what my father may think, being gay won't stop me from doing anything.