Virgo
07-16-2020, 06:29 PM
I've never fully come out, but started coming out at 19.
When I was 13, other kids started to seriously question me being gay, because, for whatever reason, they thought it was their business. I managed to lie my way out of being outed at 13 and 14, but 15 - 18 was harder because people started to bully me more and my mental health went to shit (almost like those two things were related, what a coincidence). Even though there was at least one openly gay guy in my high school who managed to stay somewhat safe by hiding behind girls, I could never risk it, because even though I was still closeted, I had it worse than him. I'd get sexually assaulted and worse everyday, so I had no idea what my bullies would do to me if they found out I was gay. It didn't really make sense to me that they were so homophobic yet did so many homoerotic things to bully me. Whenever I was being held down and forced to say things I didn't want to say, I'd never admit I was gay when they asked me, because I think they'd then think I was somehow enjoying it.
When I was 19, I told my mom. At the time, that was the average age people came out, and I didn't want to be not average. I told my mom, and she freaked out and went into full on denial mode and told me it was just a phase and hormones and blah blah blah. She told me not to tell my dad, and to not tell anyone at my job. She kept on telling me she was having nightmares that I was going to get killed and basically be the next Matthew Shepherd . . . so, those were fun times. Anyway, my dad died of a tragic accident a few months later, so I never got to tell him when he was alive.
I've never told my brothers . . . but I have had "sleepovers" with other gay guys when my brothers were still living with me. My younger brother figured out I was gay and so does his wife. My older brother on the other hand, for whatever reason, it never clicked that I never had a girlfriend and have slept in the same bed as guys who visited me. I mean, um, I don't know. He never asked, so, whatever.
I don't have the same job I used to have where I had to stay closeted, so now I tend to be more myself. I'm sort of at a crashed point in my life right now where I'm ready for whatever to happen, happen. I also promised myself I won't stay closeted at my next job (well, unless it pays a shit ton of money, but in my new profession, the most money comes from predominantly liberal areas).
I can get really uncomfortable talking about being gay with people. I don't tell my extended family, like my grandmas, aunts, and uncles, because they might ask why I didn't tell them sooner, and that would just bring up bad memories that might make me dissociate or have an anxiety attack. There's too much bad blood between me and my family, people I went to school with, and my entire area in general, that I'm ready to just move away and never come back. It makes me sad because I grew up in a very beautiful area of the world and I have just as many good memories, but it is what it is.
When I was 13, other kids started to seriously question me being gay, because, for whatever reason, they thought it was their business. I managed to lie my way out of being outed at 13 and 14, but 15 - 18 was harder because people started to bully me more and my mental health went to shit (almost like those two things were related, what a coincidence). Even though there was at least one openly gay guy in my high school who managed to stay somewhat safe by hiding behind girls, I could never risk it, because even though I was still closeted, I had it worse than him. I'd get sexually assaulted and worse everyday, so I had no idea what my bullies would do to me if they found out I was gay. It didn't really make sense to me that they were so homophobic yet did so many homoerotic things to bully me. Whenever I was being held down and forced to say things I didn't want to say, I'd never admit I was gay when they asked me, because I think they'd then think I was somehow enjoying it.
When I was 19, I told my mom. At the time, that was the average age people came out, and I didn't want to be not average. I told my mom, and she freaked out and went into full on denial mode and told me it was just a phase and hormones and blah blah blah. She told me not to tell my dad, and to not tell anyone at my job. She kept on telling me she was having nightmares that I was going to get killed and basically be the next Matthew Shepherd . . . so, those were fun times. Anyway, my dad died of a tragic accident a few months later, so I never got to tell him when he was alive.
I've never told my brothers . . . but I have had "sleepovers" with other gay guys when my brothers were still living with me. My younger brother figured out I was gay and so does his wife. My older brother on the other hand, for whatever reason, it never clicked that I never had a girlfriend and have slept in the same bed as guys who visited me. I mean, um, I don't know. He never asked, so, whatever.
I don't have the same job I used to have where I had to stay closeted, so now I tend to be more myself. I'm sort of at a crashed point in my life right now where I'm ready for whatever to happen, happen. I also promised myself I won't stay closeted at my next job (well, unless it pays a shit ton of money, but in my new profession, the most money comes from predominantly liberal areas).
I can get really uncomfortable talking about being gay with people. I don't tell my extended family, like my grandmas, aunts, and uncles, because they might ask why I didn't tell them sooner, and that would just bring up bad memories that might make me dissociate or have an anxiety attack. There's too much bad blood between me and my family, people I went to school with, and my entire area in general, that I'm ready to just move away and never come back. It makes me sad because I grew up in a very beautiful area of the world and I have just as many good memories, but it is what it is.
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
