Out October: “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”
Editor’s Note:
Sometimes we must be reminded that coming out is a process, it isn’t over in a day. It takes courage, and you don’t always have the courage to conquer this fear in one step. Taking time to tell your truth and to help people see where you are and who you are is okay. However, we also must remember that it takes time for the people in our lives to be able to grasp our truth.
Here is Kevin’s story, a reader who speaks about his steps and his journey of coming out. His beautiful and poignant story is about the steps it takes to get his courage and the steps it takes to share his truth.
I had little to no exposure to the LGBT community during my childhood. I grew up with little to no perception of what real gay people are like, or even what being gay really meant. The slurs were all tossed around here and there without much context: fag, gay, and homo, among others. These words didn’t mean to me then what they do now. The first quarter of my life was lived in a closet that I didn’t know existed because I grew up in a culture that shunned an entire minority. Now that I firmly identify as being part of that minority, I feel compelled to share my coming out story so that other LGBT youth and young adults don’t lose hope when they may feel that there is none in sight.
The gay slurs I mentioned above were the most I ever heard said regarding the LGBT community before graduating from high school. There was no mention of homosexuality in sex education nor, for that matter, anything said by any teacher that I ever had. The first memory I have of ever actually thinking about gay people and gay rights is when Canada made gay marriage legal in 2005. I should amend the previous assertion by noting that I do remember one teacher who had a firm “no homophobic comments” policy which was actually enforced.
I classify my coming out process into two stages: coming out to myself, and coming out to my family and friends.
Coming out to myself refers to the process I went through of discovering and admitting to myself that I was gay. It took a long time for this to happen. Looking back now, I can recall random moments from my early childhood of times when I could have clued in that I was attracted to men. I can clearly recall watching an episode of Spiderman in which a man was naked and held down in a contraption.
This was greatly arousing to me and I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. When my family got a high speed internet connection and I suddenly had access to porn on my own computer, my first instinct was to search for gay porn. I still don’t know what drove me to do that or even how I knew what to search for. Perhaps I had picked up subtle clues found in pop culture and the media.
Still, I felt the urge to comply with society and try to date girls. The only dates I ever went on were in the final few grades of elementary school and meant absolutely nothing to me, though they did cripple me with performance anxiety (in this case performance referring to where my arm should go and how late in the film we should kiss). This anxiety was unshakable in my high school years when I tried a few times, unsuccessfully, to ask girls out. In my senior years I gave up on this fantasy. I think by those last two years I was slowly realizing, even if subconsciously, my sexual identity.
Though I didn’t ever come out in high school, there were two notable events where I came very close, unintentionally. The first was a friendship I had with someone. We shared many things and came close to experimenting with each other, but the pressure to hide any seemingly gay desires overwhelmed us and our friendship came to an end following a rather messy disagreement. At this point I was cautiously identifying as bisexual and telling myself that though I found men sexually appealing, I wanted to find a woman who made me feel the same way and spend my life with her. If I had been aware of the Kinsey scale, I would have rated myself 2 at this point: mostly straight but happy to play with guys.
Moment number two was the only time I ever admitted out loud, pre-coming out, that I was unsure of my sexuality. A friend asked me why I didn’t wish to participate in a school ritual where the graduating males were dressed in drag. She mentioned that if I was sure of my sexuality it shouldn’t be a problem. She was only half serious about this comment, but I responded with a very serious “Well, maybe I’m not.”
I have one social network to thank for helping me come out to myself: Twitter. When I joined Twitter, I began following a few gay people. I remember feeling how novel it was to be interacting with actual grown up, successful, normal, out gay men. Remember that prior to this, I had never encountered someone like that, neither in real life nor online. My social graph grew organically on Twitter to include more gay people, their gay friends, their followers, and so on. Soon I had my own support network of tech-savvy friendly Twitter gays.
I have made a few very good e-friends on Twitter. Three in particular helped me immensely, and one of them pushed me to find myself and admit that I was gay. I can clearly remember the first night that I realized and admitted this to myself. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; I had been chatting with this fellow partly because we were both attracted to each other. This I was aware of. When he helped me use logic to talk out my sexual orientation and say the words “I’m gay”, I broke down in tears. He helped me understand that I was not at all attracted to female sexuality, and that being gay is perfectly alright. That night I thought about walking out to the end of a long pier, thinking the night away, and waiting for the sunrise.
After coming out to myself, I didn’t waste much time coming out to my friends and family. Though my parents aren’t religious, they hold conservative views and are easily influenced by conservative media. I knew they wouldn’t throw me out of the house but I was also keenly aware they wouldn’t react overly positively. Being the terrified anxious person that I am, a friend and I devised a plan to leave them a note at the breakfast table. I simply didn’t have the courage to say it to their faces.
Writing the note was easy. I’ve always had a knack for writing. Printing it off and leaving the envelope at the kitchen table was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I stood at my door, in the dark, in silence, for what may have been thirty minutes simply weighing my options. After I had decided to go ahead with the deed, I came back to my room and felt an overwhelming sense of nervousness mixed with excitement and freedom.
It wasn’t at all obvious to me how crippling it had been living in the closet. I had seen many of my friends have relationships, both short term and long term. One of my oldest friends married just out of high school, yet even well into my university education I hadn’t had a date since elementary school. This apparent failure took a very negative toll on my mental health and I don’t doubt now that I was suffering from depression. There were some dark times before, during and shortly after coming out to myself.
There were, however, no sad times for me after coming out. Telling the people around you how you really feel and exposing who you really are is the most liberating feeling in the world. I gave up looking over my shoulder and concealing my identity.
Within days of leaving that note, I told my close friends. They all reacted positively. My parents are still in the process of getting over growing pains they are required to endure in order to accommodate me. Many of these pains are caused by my mother’s overly concerned nature. I appreciate her concern and hope that soon there will be no discernible difference between the gay me and an alternate reality straight version of me at home.
One of my favourite quotes is: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind,” by Dr. Seuss. This is really what coming out means to me. It means telling those you think are closest to you that you’ve been living a lie. If they can’t accept you, for any reason, then you must simply leave them behind.
I’m a bit of an idealist. I’ve vowed to live as openly as I practically can. I want to live as a gay person as openly and normally as a straight person would. This doesn’t mean flaunting or over-doing public displays of affection. Instead, it means that I want to fill out my Facebook relationship status when I, as I do now, have a boyfriend. It means that I want to bring him to family dinners and gossip about how amazing he is to my aunts and uncles. I see no reason why this shouldn’t be possible. I’m lucky that religious fanaticism is nowhere to be found in my family. I hope, reader, that you will keep in mind that even if your family is religious, there’s a good chance their love for you will override the hateful preachings of an ancient fairy tale.
I am now near the end of a university degree, halfway through an exciting work placement with a reputable employer, I have a wonderful boyfriend of nine months, and a great network of friends. I am living my life openly as a gay man and I can’t wait to see what the future brings. Like Harvey Milk said: “you gotta give ’em hope.” It’s my hope that in reading this, you can find the courage to come out to yourself and to those close to you when the time is right. Your life has just begun. It’s going to be great.
Remember, there are always options.
The Trevor Project: a 24-hour hotline for gay and questioning youth: 866-4-U-TREVOR (488-7386)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-TALK (8255)

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