One of the questions posed after I asked for interview questions was “When did I come out and was it an easy journey?” I thought that question deserved a post of it’s own as every coming out story shared gives those struggling with it something to possibly relate to.
I have a habit in my life, of going from point A to point C and skipping B and not looking after B, or me, is something that I’ve only realised that I did once again in my coming out. For a long time I thought my coming out was relatively pain free.
At 25 I was dating a girl that I knew was only a holiday fling. She fit the mold of the girls I dated, beautiful but not at all the kind of girl you’d want to marry, insecure, neurotic and a pain in the arse. One day while I was at the nude beach I went for a walk around the rocks to see why people were always going around there. Well, following the trails, I found out. Anonymous sex, cruising or beat action wasn’t something I’d ever heard of really before but I found out. A guy was wanking his big cock at me and I was transfixed, saying I just wanted to watch. Next thing you know we were blowing each other. It wasn’t the only time it happened but I couldn’t look him in the eye when I saw him there ever again, convinced the whole world knew what I’d been doing.
A few months later, I’d broken up with the girl and met the man that was to become my first boyfriend. We were both extras on the set of Mission Impossible II and no it wasn’t Tom Cruise, although he’d be more sane than Psychoman. Within a few months I’d told all my friends that I was gay and within six I’d hesitantly told my family. Psychoman was dumped and I was out and free.
My mother took it the hardest. It’s only been the last couple of years that she doesn’t cringe when I was interviewed on the news for Mardi Gras etc and recently she can even laugh at jokes about it ruining my grandfathers family tree research when the family name dies with me.
How did I neglect B? I jumped straight from being in denial to being out without thinking about what it meant to me, how my life would change or who I am. It’s rare for me not to over analyse things but in this instance I could have slowed it all down and appreciated the ride a bit more. Maybe then I wouldn’t have ended up with so much baggage and insecurity. Too late now.
Ultimately my coming out was relatively easy. I was never truly fearful of my family rejecting me. I’ve never experienced anything more than a random “faggot” slur from a drunk in the street and it’s never hurt my career.
