So It Begins…
I’m nervous writing this. Like butterflies in my stomach nervous. This…the writing…is something I have put off. But it has nagged at me like my dog used to do when he wanted something, just sitting at my feet staring at me. Not doing anything else, not barking, not whining, not clawing, not jumping, not panting, nothing…just staring and yet I can NOT not notice. It’s persistent. It’s annoying. This is what I’ve done. Ignored the dog. And yet he will not release his gaze. I’m scared. It feels too late to tell my story. And yet there is that nagging in my mind that will not stop. Write. Just do it. I feel God (I think) nudging me (or staring me down) to write. I hear every writing teacher’s mantra in my brain: Don’t write unless you have something to say, do not write unless you HAVE to. Up until recently, I didn’t think I had much to say. But this idea will not loose its hold. So here I am.
This is my coming out story. I am gay. Or, at least, very gayish. You’ll see. I did not foresee telling anybody my secret…I was going to take it to the grave. It is an understatement to say I am surprised, that not only have I let the cat out of the bag, but I have written my story down and published it online for anyone to read. But this conviction that has nagged at me has not gone away.
When I began coming out to my parents and my close friends, I realized I had a story to tell and a lot of processing to do regarding my story. I was not convinced I would post it online. What I knew for sure was that I had to write it. I had to break-down and put back together my experience, deconstruct my story and the role my faith played in it, in hopes that I could better understand myself, my sexuality and how God fit into it all. It’s been 18 months since I began writing. It’s been a process; it’s been slow; it’s been painful. But it’s also been meaningful, fulfilling and healing. And some days I think it has led me to a greater understanding of my experience. Some days.
I have spent a lot of years in the closet, a lot of years muddling through the swamp of my shame and fear. It is my hope that the words in this space provide a little solace for the lonely hearts and secret keepers out there, for those who cannot fathom sharing their stories, cannot imagine talking about their shame and fear and isolation; it is my hope that those, like me, with a more complicated sexuality, whether LGBTQ+ or something other than strictly straight, who are in the thick of it, scared, confused and ashamed, will take heart reading this.
No matter your gender, orientation or religious or non-religious beliefs, thank you for being here. I hope you will read on. And, if you have complicated feelings around homosexuality, I hope that my story might help humanize the issue and might remind you (and me) that we are more alike than different.
Just FYI…I have changed the names in these posts to protect people’s privacy. But everything else I have tried to keep as true and honest to my memory as I could. I have journaled off and on since high school. And for the last two years as I started coming out, I journaled consistently and in detail, knowing that these days would be monumental, that I would want to preserve the stories. For the posts here, I have relied on my unreliable memory and my thoughts and experiences as written in my journals.
