- If you want to change your name it's fine with us.
- Mother: "I hope you don't think you're bringing him home for Thanksgiving."
Father: I don't remember what his first reaction was. His most memorable was "I don't know why you can't just like a nice pair of tits." It was the night before my brother's wedding.
- "Are you a bottom? I bet you're a bottom."
- My mother: Hmm. What does this mean about me?
My father: What does mean about me?
- "We'd like you to see a psychiatrist."
1973. Fortunately I lived far away.
- Silence...for a few months. But now their excited to come to my wedding. It all worked out.
- My biological father I never knew, my father was dead. My mother told me I was not natural and that if my grandparents were alive, they would have disowned me.
- R3 made me laugh. I'm picturing this 50something lady in curlers and pink slippers and a flowered housecoat, running around going, 'he's a bottom. Oh lawd, he's a bottom!'
- My dad: "That's okay, just don't make a big deal out of it."
My mom had been dead for many years before this conversation.
- Quelle suprize!
- My Mother; Why would you choose to do this to me?
- There was a small pause and then my mother shrugged and said, "Well, a lot of people are, I guess."
It still makes me smile to think of it.
- It's ok.
- Dad smiled at Mum and said to me . . . ." did you think your Mum and I were blind?". Followed by a big hug and kiss.
- Dad: Oh, ok.
Mom: I knew you were watching too much Oprah.
- Father: "Just don't get infected with AIDS."
Mother: said nothing for a couple of days. The first thing she said was "As long as you're happy with your life, that's fine with me."
- My mom: "Let me get a drink."
My (divorced, cool hippie) dad: Pulls me up out of a chair, hugs me, and whispers in my ear: "Welcome home son."
Coming Out is the one political act responsible for taking Homosexuality out of the medical books as a mental disorder in 1973 and has placed us at the doorstep of the Supreme Court about to gain ourselves full civil rights. I can't believe it happened in such a short period of time since it's been "The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name" since the beginning of time. No more.
- Both of mine were like
They knew since I was a late teen. I told them in my early 40's
- Mom: I'm so glad you said something.
Dad: Whatever makes you happy.
Later, my dad put his arm around me and said "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
- MOM (Wednesday, November 19, 1980): "No, you're not gay. It's those god-damned friends of yours filling your head with all kinds of garbage. I told you that hanging around with those 'people' was not good for you. Now look! You think you're a god-damned homo."
She threw her dishtowel into the sink and stomped out of the kitchen. Her bedroom door slammed a few seconds later. Eventually she came to terms with the fact that I was gay. She would never allow me to bring a "boyfriend" into the house when I visited. she made me promise never to tell certain relatives or family friends about my "lifestyle".
DAD (Wednesday, November 19, 1980): "Are you sure? You're only 15. Are you really sure?Damn. (Extended silence). Well, whatever makes you happy, son. I'm a little disappointed, but I love you and you know I always will."
He hugged me tight and we sat down and watched "Taxi", "Soap" and "Vega$" on TV. We laughed at all the jokes together on the first two and enjoyed the action on "Vega$". My dad always accepted me and loved my partner. Cool dude, especially for his generation (born in the mid-'30s).
- Why are you doing this to me?
And "you have to change."
- Bend over and let's have a look.
- When I came out in 1978, at 17.
Me: Mom, Dad, I'm gay.
Mom (to dad): I told you something was wrong when he kept buying all those Queen and Elton John records. I should have put a stop to it, but you wouldn't let me interfere!
Dad: (to mom): Helen, it's not that big of a deal. I'm no scientist, but don't think Queen and Elton John records have an affect on sexuality. Son, you know it's okay and we love you.
Both hugged me and accepted my sexuality. In time, they were really cool about it.
Michael in Houston
- My parents don't know. I'm in college and I just haven't told them yet. I don't know what I'm waiting for.
- Mom: "Are you sure?"
Dad: (long pause) "I don't think I can give you much advice in that area."
- "Honey, I think you like women, too. I believe with my whole heart that you're asexual."
"Um. Mom, do you mean bi-sexual?"
"Honey, I know what asexual means."
Mom: "Honey, I knew before YOU did!"
Dad: *loooooong pause* I need a fucking drink"
Dad eventually accepted it, but he always has to say shit like "Did you see Cher while you were in Las Vegas? I thought homos LOVE Cher!" or
"Hey! Ice skating is on!"
- "If you die, do I get your Lexus?"
- Mom found out from a jilted girlfriend - they worked together at the hospital (mom is a nurse). She came from work angry - sent me to a therapist and a priest (thank god for the therapist - the priest told me that while it was OK to be gay I could never act on it and when he found out I already did he told me suicide was justified - I'm sure looking back that he was gay, and pretty hot to, what a waste - the therapist I credit with saving my life. Dad was angry and threatened to punch me in the face if I didn't leave. It was really a very short period in our lives, they pretty quickly came to terms with it, in fact now they would march in a gay rights parade. I just want people to know that even though initial reactions are bad, it doesn't always mean it won't work out, just keep talking about it, let them know it's has nothing to do with them or anything they did or didn't do, but it just is and don't take a back seat, let them know when they are being insensitive, they need to accept your partner the same as any of your straight siblings and you accept nothing less.
- The fathers' respones on this thread are more supportive than I would have guessed.
- Just thinking the same thing R30.
One of the Posters with a Cool Dad
- It was 1968 in L.A. I was 13 and my parents were divorced. My father was an alcoholic asshole and my mom was a saint. Mom had custody of the kids. It was a rainy summer day and I was spending a few days with my father and his cunt second wife (religious fanatic cunt, at that). They were out running errands and they came back early and caught me and a neighbor boy, the same age as me, 69-ing on the sofa.
My dad screamed to the other boy to 'Get the fuck out of my house, you little q-eer!' Then he turned to me and screamed 'You're dead to me you little cocksucking f-ggot!'
He gave me ten minutes to get my bag packed and get out. He wouldn't even let me call my mom to pick me up. She was an hour away. He screamed that I was taking too long and to hurry up and get out. I screamed, 'Fuck you, you drunk son of a bitch!' He punched me in the face and physically threw me out of the house(without my bag).
I walked about two miles in blinding rain to get to a phone booth. I called my mom. She wasn't home. I sat at a bus stop for a few hours, soaking wet, calling my mom's number every 15 minutes or so. My mom finally answered and came to pick me up. She asked me what happened. I told her it was embarrassing and I didn't want to talk about it.
She was quiet for a few minutes and said, "Randall, your father called me just as I was leaving the house and screamed at me and told me why you had a fight."
I said, "He called me a f-ggot" and he hit me. He told me he never wanted to see me again." I started to cry.
Mom pulled the car over in the rain and put her arms around me. She said, "Almost all kids experiment with sex at some point. It doesn't mean you're a homosexual. But, if you are, it won't change anything. I love you and your brothers dearly. Besides, I love your Uncle Carl, and he's homosexual. He's my favorite brother."
I had no idea my uncle was gay. When I confirmed to my mother several years later that I was gay, she just hugged me and we are still best friends to this day. My dad? He never called me again. He never sent me another birthday card or Christmas gift. I WAS dead to him. He did not attend any school functions that I was part of and did not attend my graduation.
The next time I saw my father was in November of 1974. My older brother, Ken, had been killed in a car accident and I saw my father at the funeral. He did not look at me or attempt to speak to me. As he and his cunt wife were leaving the cemetery, he passed me and hissed, "F-ggot!" under his alcohol- drenched breath. I ignored it.
When he finally drank himself to death in the mid-1980s, neither I nor any of my brothers attended his funeral. He was a horrid man and I actually felt sympathy for the Devil in Hell for having to host that hideous drunk old fuck for the rest of eternity.
On a humorous note. My father had two more sons with his cunt second wife. I got to know one of them after meeting him at a gay bar in the mid-90s, along with his gay lover. LOL. We have become good friends over the years. The other son is single and manages a flower shop in West Hollywood. Just desserts for the old son of a bitch!
- Mother: I thought you probably would be when you were older. (I was 13).
- Just told my parents this past December.
Father: "That's messed up."
Step mother: silence. I don't think she cares at all.
My biological mother passed away when I was 5.
- My mom:"Maybe not. I dropped you once as a baby."
Dad: "I knew the first time I saw you throw a ball in Kindergarten."
- "Who wants creme brulee?!"
- Wow, a lot of the parents seem like such assholes.
My parents are very religious (Catholic) and involved in church and didn't have one negative thing to say.
- My coming out was quite funny. And this was 32 years ago (circa 1980). Picture this. At the dinner table: My mother, my father, my sister Erin (who was a year younger than me), my brother Mark (who was a freshman in college), my brother Steven (a year older than me and a junior in high school), and me (a 15 year old sophomore in HS).
Erin: Some of the guys caught Steven kissing another boy in the band hall. He's a homo!
Dad: Oh, Erin. Stop causing trouble, and don't use that "homo" word in this house ever again.
Erin: But, it's true! That's what everyone is saying. I'm so humiliated.
Dad: (Doubtful, he jokingly asked) Steven, were you kissing another boy at school?
Steven: Maybe I was. Lots of people are gay. It's no big deal.
I was in shock - I had no idea Steven was gay. He never pinged at all. I guess because he was my brother. I was the more(slightly)fem one.
Mom: I mean, it would be okay if you were gay, we're liberals around here, you know? We always thought if one of you was going to turn out gay, it would be James. No offense, James. We would love you just the same. Do you really think you are gay, Steven, or are you and Erin pulling our legs?
Steven: I like guys. So what! Erin has a big mouth!
Dad: So, Mark? James? Either of you?
Mark: No, dad. I like chicks. Girls only for this dude.
Me: Well, I like guys too. Steven, are you really gay too? How weird.
Steven: Yeah. Big deal!
Erin: Oh, Gawd! I have TWO homo brothers? I'm so embarrassed. I'll never be able to show my face at school again!
Mark: Shut up, Erin. Idiot!
Mom: Erin, eat your dinner and be quiet. You need to be a little more understanding about people, dear. Mark, don't call your sister an idiot.
My parents, Mark and eventually Erin have always been supportive of Steven and I and they love our partners almost as much as they love us. They march in Pride Parades with us and are very proud of us (and we of them).
- Some of you are very lucky that you come from very loving, liberal households. Although I'm straight, I once repeated back my sister's false accusation that I was a "lesbian." We were so repressed and conservative, that I had no idea what it meant. I still remember my mother screaming at the top of her lungs, "do not use that word in this house." Fast forward a couple of years and I'm at UCLA, and on Bruin Walk there's a gay students rights table. I was still very naive.
- This question was asked at our dinner party.
Best response came from one guy's mom:
"Doesn't it hurt?"
As he explained it, "I don't know what was more surprising - her acceptance, or her assumption I was a bottom!"
- Mom - Couldn't get a word in edgewise.
Dad - "If you're a fucking queer, you can get your fucking ass out of this mother-fucking house. I won't have any goddamn queers in this house. We're a christian family! Are you a fucking queer?"
Me - "Yes, sir."
Dad - "Get the fuck out! I don't care where you go. Just get out. You're not welcome here."
Mom grabbed me and hugged me and was crying frantically because my father was throwing me out. I left home that cold night and slept at the bus station on a hardwood bench. I was 16.
The police picked me up and called my parents. The officer told me they had been searching for me in a panic. My parents ran into the police station and my dad, crying, grabbed me and held me tight. He profusely apologized for his behavior. My mother cried and proclaimed her love for me. My father was of a different generation. He told me he would do everything he could to understand my situation, but that it would take time.
My father did come to accept that I was gay. His homophobia completely disappeared over the years and he came to be one of my greatest supporters-he and my loving, dear mother even marched in several parades with me and joined PFLAG. Dad and mom even loved my gay and lesbian friends and had them over to their house on many occasions. My dad even had a photo of my partner and I embracing on the wall of his barber shop. He was proud of me.
- My parents asked me several years before I finally came out to them at age 21.
I wasn't ready to tell them when they asked, even though they said they would always love me at the time. Just weird family dynamics at the time - and me being a typical teenager who wanted privacy.
Both parents told me they loved me. When I asked my mom if she had any clues, she took a long moment and a drag on her Virginia Slims, and then said, "Well, you DID rearrange your room a lot!"
Love that line. She's not here anymore, but I was lucky to have her support and my father's too. They weren't perfect, but they were there for me when it mattered, and at the end of the day, that's all that matters.
- Mom said "You don't have to choose that lifestyle. You're going to suffer so much. You know it's not normal. You know it's wrong and I will pray that you will change your mind on making such an awful decision. You just can't be that way." She said this with tears steaming down her face and I knew it was disappointment and fear and confusion. I think she had failed as a parent. She said I will always love you and I will still pray for you. I told dad years later. His reaction was "I don't understand why you would make an awful choice.". He said my stupid antics would get me nowhere. I moved far away and had very little contact with them for many years. I would go home to visit and they knew I had a partner. It was never discussed and I never brought it up. That relationship ended and more years passed. I called them and told them I would like to visit and I wanted hem to meet my partner that I had a two year relationship with. I prepared my partner for the worse. I remember pulling up to my parents house. I told my partner to stay in the vehicle and I would go in and make sure a scene would not ensue. I went in and told them my partner was in the car and I wanted to make sure it was going to be alright to bring him in. They welcomed him with open arms and I started crying. I felt so many years of sadness of not seeing them wash over me. I was happy that they had changed. They were the parents I remembered from a happy childhood. Everything changed when I told them I was gay. I was vilified and pushed away. In that moment of them accepting my partner, I knew they were accepting me and I was so happy. It was life changing.
- R41. Very touching story. Mine was the same... the first part anyway. In 1972, I was 16. My parents found some gay magazines in my room and confronted me with them. My father threw me out of the house and I, like you, slept on a bus station bench. Only my parents never went to look for me. I waited a few days to call them and, when I did, my hardcore Church of Christ mother called me a sodomite. I heard my father in the background telling her not to talk to "that pervert" and she asked me never to bother them again and hung up on me.
I had about $150 dollars in the bank that I had saved from my after-school job. I had no relatives that wanted anything to do with "a pervert", so I stayed with a friend and his family for a few weeks to save more money. I left Chicago in the middle of winter on a Greyhound bus and went to San Francisco. I met some great people and got a job. I had never been happy at home. I was happy now with my new "adopted family".
I felt for my younger brother and sister, who were stuck in that repressive household and were not allowed contact with me. When the AIDS crisis hit in '81, I stuck around SF and helped my friends that were dying. I eventually moved to Austin, Texas, where I currently am with my partner. Thanks to Facebook, my sister and brother re-established contact with me after 35 years (I let them find me. I wanted contact to be their choice) and we have been in contact for five years. According to them, my parents remained the nasty repressive people they had been and never mentioned my name again. My brother and sister broke contact with them too. My parents are dead now. They were dead to me years ago.
- Dad: "Really? Me too!"
- Amazing story at r32. funny your homophobic dad was a breeder of gay men!!
- DAD: "It's wrong!... [italic]Shockingly[/italic] wrong!"
MOM: "And mothers who stand for such things are beneath contempt! I'll never be one of them! Never!"
- Mom: "I've always known, I've always sensed it. I saw how much you were suffering when you were a teenager but I couldn't say anything. What if I was wrong? You'd hate me forever! I will stand by you and accept you, and defend you against anyone who has anything bad to say about you. And whoever you bring into your life will be accepted in this family."
Within the next few days she outed me to my two brothers, my sister and her husband and some other relatives.
Me: "WHY did you do that?"
Mom: "Oh it's time for it all to be out in the open now. Everyone is going to have to learn how to deal with it."
So, she was brave and supportive and tough and wonderful. My brother told me later that she went into a deep depression that lasted a few days, apparently she was grieving my childhood and my relationship with my father, wishing she could have made my life easier. She snapped out of it, and met my then-boyfriend and became very fond of him. She's my biggest fan.
I know, Mary!
- I was laughing about one of the earlier posts. One of you mentioned coming out and then watching "Soap" with your dad afterward. I laughed because I came out to my dad DURING an episode of "Soap".
My parents were divorced. My mom was an alcoholic who left the family in 1975 to "find herself". Long story. My dad was a 34 year old, laid-back, really cool guy. He was a handsome hard working telephone company lineman and just the greatest guy you could ever meet.
I was a quiet 13 year old boy. I was slightly e--emin-te and read a lot. I had two younger brothers and a sister.
One evening, in late 1978, my dad was watching TV. "Soap" was coming on and I went in to watch it with him. I remember the episode vividly. It was the one where Jody was telling Jessica that "Plato was gay". Jessica replied, "Mickey Mouse's dog was gay?" LOL.
At the commercial break, my dad went to get a glass of tea and sat back down in his recliner. He leaned forward and said, "Son, can I ask you a personal question? I don't mean to make you mad or hurt your feelings or anything, and the answer won't matter to me at all". I told him to fire away.
He asked, "Jeffrey, do you think you might be gay?"
I said, "I don't know. Maybe. I kind of think some guys are attractive. I know when a girl is pretty, but I don't feel my heart beating fast like it does when I see a good looking guy. I guess I am gay. What makes you ask?"
He replied, "Oh, just certain things. You're much more sensitive and bookish than your brothers. You seem to be kinder, gentler and more creative too. I was just wondering. It's okay by me, little guy. I love you kids no matter what. Oh, shit. The show's back on."
I was blessed with the greatest father on earth. He's almost 70 now and still a good looking, great man. He remarried just before I graduated from high school in 1983. A wonderful woman that he deserves. She is the woman that I call mom. Dad is still my best friend and fishing buddy. I love him dearly.
- The mom's who knew their sons were bottoms make me giggle.
- In the summer of 1982, I came out. I was 17 and a child of divorce. My father took himself out of the picture when I was 12. I woke up one July morning and walked in on a conversation between my mom and my 15 year-old sister in the kitchen.
My mom asked my sister, "Melissa. I had a couple of Playgirl magazines next to my magazine rack and they are missing. You didn't happen to borrow them, did you?"
Melissa replied, "No way mom. I don't look at that crap. Gross!"
I wisked into the room and said, "Oh, your Playgirls are in my room. I thought you were throwing them out and I took them. Do you want them back?"
Mom hesitated and said, "No, Honey. You can keep them, if you like."
My sister's jaw dropped and she said exclaimed, "I KNEW you were gay!". I casually said, "Yeah, so what?" Mom laughed and said she had suspected as much. My mom, my sis and my brother (4 years younger) had no problem with it, and they had all suspected. We're all still very close and they love my partner of 27 years almost as much as they love me.
- why are 13
- My Dad said, "It doesn't matter, I love you just the same."
My Mother said, "I don't believe you, are you sure?"
My brother said, "Does this mean I can fuck you in the ass when I don't score.?"
My sister said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but please stay out of my closet."
My younger brother said, "Don't tell on me, but I'm gay too."
- A few (sadly, expected) stories, but I am pleasantly surprised to read some of the loving and supportive stories too.
- Mom: "I always knew. You kept playing the music from Brigadoon when you were 10 years old!"
I miss her.
- My favorite Nathan Lane story is when he told his mom he was gay and she said, "I would rather you were dead" and he replied, "I knew you'd understand"....
- I was outed to my parents by school officials when I was in 9th grade. I was in band (yeah, I know, flame away, lol) and we were heading back home from a football game out of town. My best friend and I were playing pocket pool with each other under a blanket on the bus. It was dark and we were a couple of horny teenagers, so we did what came naturally. In the heat of the moment, he reached over and kissed me on the mouth. At that exact second, the driver turned the overhead lights on and we were caught. Some girl screamed, "Ewwww, they're queers!!! They were french kissing! Disgusting!"
One of the band sponsors, a teacher, made us sit in separate seats and was very nasty to us, quoting the bible and shit. She asked loudly in front of everyone, "Do you want to end up with AIDS?" This was in the '80s and homophobia was worse then. When we got back, the bitch walked over to my mom's car and told her what I had done and that she would see that I was suspended or expelled for my disgusting behavior. My mom was very quiet on the drive home.
I said, "Mom, aren't you going to say something?"
She said, "You're damned right I am. I'll be damned if I'm going to let that nasty Mrs. Warren suspend or expell my child just for kissing on the bus! That's ridiculous."
I said, "No, mom. I mean about me being gay."
She said, "Honey, your dad and I have known you were gay since you were four years old. Big honking deal! We're fine with it. We knew you were going to come out to us someday, just not like this."
I didn't get suspended. My mom let them punish me with study hall. She hadn't realized that my friend and I were masturbating each other under the blanket until she went up to the school. When she was told by the principal, she just sighed and said, "Oh, dear! Honey, what were you boys thinking? I know you're young, baby, but you need to do your thinking with the big head from now on." I still laugh everytime I think of that. My dad was pretty cool with it too.
Oh, the boy I was making out with on the band bus is now my partner. We were lovers throughout high school and ended up moving off to separate cities after graduation. We didn't see each other for 10 years. In 1998, I moved to Dallas and the second weekend I was there, I went to a club and there he was. We've been together ever since.
- Mom: "I should have hid those darned heels."
Dad: "You're a 5th-generation Texan. We don't have gay."
Me: "I fucked a whole (male) ballet troupe in Houston.
We then ate King ranch chicken casserole with sweet tea.
- This happened over 35 years ago when I was 15. My conservative Texas cowboy dad opened the door to a shed out on our ranch and caught me on my knees, giving my best friend a blowjob.
His first words, "Oh, Jesus H. Christ!" and he slammed the shed door. A few minutes later, I heard his pickup start and peel out.
We had always been very close and he had no suspicion that his butch cowboy son wasn't a pussy-pounding hetero like his older brothers. He avoided me like the plague. At the dinner table, he wouldn't speak to me. When he had to say something to me, it was very abupt. My mom had no clue what was going on or why my dad was being, as she called it, an ass toward me.
After school one day, one of my buddies came to the house. Dad glared at me every time he saw me. I went to get my friend something to drink and my dad said, "Are you sucking his cock too?" I replied, "Not at this very moment."
We didn't realize my mom was standing behind us during our confrontation. She was in shock. She asked my dad why he said such a thing. He said (exact words), "Ask Liza here! Your babying turned your son into a weenie-chewing fruit." My mom asked if it was true and I said, "I guess it is", and walked back into the den with my buddy.
The next day, my mom said she would pray for me and hoped that I would find my way back to the Lord. She also asked if I was "sinning" with the boy that had been over the evening before. I told her no, that he was hetero. My dad was gruff and cold. He told my brothers that I was gay and they were actually really cool about it. They were the ones that eventually made my parents see the light and realize the banality of their behavior toward me. Mom warmed up to me within a few weeks and my dad eventually accepted who I was. We're now as close as we were before his "discovery" in the shed all those years ago.
Bryan in Texas
- My mom - "Is that all?"
- "No you aren't"
- "I knew it!"
- When I was 16, I had a fake I.D. and was into sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to go to gay clubs with my friends. One night, I snuck out of the house and ran down the block to meet my friends who were waiting in the car. We went to the club and hit the dance floor. I was making out with a guy that I was seeing and after a couple of songs I walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. As the bartender was handing me my margarita, a hand grabbed mine. It was my father. He took the drink out of my hand and put it on the bar. My mother was standing there with her arms crossed and was very unhappy. We walked silently out to the car. On the drive home, my father said, "We have been suspecting that you were sneaking out for a while. We've just been trying to catch you. We thought you were sneaking out to see that girl down the block. Well, tonight was a mother fucking eye-opener."
I said, "I'm gay. You're just going to have to deal with it."
I was shocked by my father's response. He said, "I don't give a good God damn if you're gay. I don't fucking care! What I do care about is that my fucking 16 year old son is sneaking out to bars with a fake I.D. and drinking at all hours of the fucking night and could be killed riding with a mother fucking drunk teenage driver!" My mother chimed in and said, "Baby,it's okay if you're gay. It's not an issue. Like your father said, we are more concerned about your sneaking out, your fake I.D. and your drinking. You're putting yourself in danger!" Needless to say, I was grounded and was closely supervised over the next couple of years. My parents and siblings always supported me. I never disappointed them again. That night, in 1984, I realized just how much my parents loved me and realized that they were happy to accept me as their gay son. I lost dad in 2008 and mom in 2010. I had terrific parents and I miss them both so much.
- My Mom: "I kinda thought so. Come give mom a hug!"
My Dad: "Well, on the bright side, we don't have to worry about you knocking up a girlfriend while you're still in school!" He then hugged me.
My Brother: "You're into dudes? Whatever. That's cool. At least I don't have to worry about you cock-blocking me with some girl. Come on, let's go shoot some hoops"
My family is awesome.
- My parents were divorced. I told them separately.
Mom: How can you do this to me? What are people in town going to think? What about the ladies at church? I won't be able to leave the house. I'll become a shut-in because of the embarrassment. You are not to tell ANYONE about this. Do you hear me? I will not have anyone thinking I raised a pervert. You're selfish. Doing this just to humiliate your mother! You disgust me!
Dad: Well, son, it's your life and if it makes you happy, that's the important thing. I want you to be happy. As long as you're happy, I am happy. Just be careful, you know, with that AIDS thing out there. Take precautions and be very careful and selective with your partners. Don't be promiscuous.
(Mom and I were never close. Everything in her life was "me, me, me". Very selfish. I have had only limited contact with her in the last 25 years. My dad and I are still very close. My partner and I live very close to him and we hang out with my dad all the time.
- R63 had me in tears!
- This was many years ago, when I was in high school. My parents were divorced and my mom worked, mostly evenings, as a nurse. My buddy and I were watching an old movie on the late show on tv and we fell asleep spooning on the sofa.
I awoke when the front door opened. My mom entered and saw us embraced. We jumped up and she said, "Oh, don't worry about me. Bless your hearts, I've known about you two for ages. I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. Love ya, hon."
That was my mom. Nothing ever shocked her and I could never fool her about anything. She just knew things without me telling her.
My dad was an asshole and I didn't even bother to come out to him. I rarely had any contact with him after their divorce. He found out second hand from somebody and was apparently "disgusted". C'est la Vie.
- This was back in the early seventies. My parents overheard a phone conversation between me and a friend. They were curious about who my "little girlfriend" was (and how serious it was), so they listened in on the bedroom extension. They were shocked that it was a "little boyfriend" instead.
They were religious fanatics (common in Tennessee of that era). As soon as I hung up the phone my dad whipped off his belt and thrashed me within an inch of my life. He said he would have me committed to an insane asylum. My mother said that she would rather I was dead than "one of those sick perverts". My dad literally dragged me to the car kicking and screaming to take me to the state hospital.
I slipped out of his grasp and took off running. I ran and ran and ran. I called my older brother, who was in his early 20s and had gotten married a couple of years before. He was estranged from my parents, but he and I had remained close. He and his wife took me in and took care of me through the rest of high school. I changed high schools and my brother did not tell my parents that I was with him. They thought I had left town. They said to my brother on the phone, "Good riddance. If he can't come back and be normal, he may as well be dead. He's dead to us until he renounces and comes back to the lord."
I never saw them again. I assume they are both dead now. Who knows. They had three children and managed to run all three off with their fanaticism and evil.
- I told my parents separately.
MOM - [while hugging me tightly] Baby, you're my special angel and it does not matter to me at all. I love you so much. You can have a very happy life and I want the very best for you.
DAD - Chris, I knew you were gay before you did. I knew by the time you were 3 years old that you were likely going to be gay. I accepted and came to terms with it years ago. Now let's get this hugging and "I love you" shit over with and I then I need you to run down to Home Depot with me. [He hugged me tightly and we said our "I love you" shit and we went to Home Depot to buy supplies to fix the kitchen sink].
Chris, the guy with the greatest parents ever
- I attempted suicide at 14. I was being picked on and bullied at school because I was a "homo". I was tired of it and didn't want to disappoint my parents, so I took a bottle of pills.
I had skipped school. The school called my mother at her job and she raced home to check on me after I didn't answer the phone. She found me in the nick of time.
I awoke in the hospital and when my parents asked me why I did what I did, I told them through my tears, "I'm gay and nobody loves me. People beat me up and I'm tired of it."
My parents both burst into tears and hugged me. They both told me how much they loved me and they were happy they had at least one gay kid. They said gays were more intelligent, more creative, and some of the greatest minds that ever existed were gay. They said they would have my back for as long as they lived. My older brothers cried and told me much they loved me too. I was happy to be alive.
When I went back to school, things got better. I made some new friends and ignored the people who were terrible to me. I physically fought the ones who picked on me. That was years ago. Now I am happy and know that my parents have my back. They're behind me every step I make. Mom, Dad, Kyle and Logan, I love you all.
- R70 Glad you're still with us Jacob. You made my eyes water. Hell, you made me bawl like a baby, dude (and I never cry). You are so fortunate to have such a great family. You are so lucky. I'm glad your life has worked out so well. Hugs.
- Mom: Honey, I have always known and I fully support and love you. I have assumed it ever since you were seven years old and you told me you were going to marry The Six Million Dollar Man when you grew up.
Dad: Oh, okay... You're not going to be wearing a dress in public, are you?
Me: No, dad. I'm a gay MAN. I'm not a transvestite.
He gave me deadly serious look and then burst out laughing. He hugged me and said, "I would have bought you a dress, if you had wanted one. I guess you'll be trying to marry that Six Million Dollar Fellow now, huh?"
- Dad: (to me) I love you, so I will try to understand this, but it's not going to be easy for me. I just don't understand how anybody can be sexually attracted to a penis, ugly hanging balls and a hairy ass.
Mom: (to dad) I don't know, Marvin. I find all of those things to be pretty damn hot myself.
We all started out laughing. That's when I knew everything was going to be cool. It was. They are behind me all the way. Dad even understands me now.
One of my brothers is kind of a dick to me, but fuck him. My younger brother and my sister are cool too.
- Thanks for all your great stories!
- This could be the greatest thread here on DL. Thanks for sharing your experiences!
- American mothers sure do like to use the word "honey" a lot.
- Thank you all for responding. Great thread, OP.
I wish so much that I had figured all the pieces out whilst my mother was alive (dad died when I was a toddler), and that I had told her.
I did tell my siblings. I called my sister in London and there was a silence. "Surprised?" I asked. "No, not really." Then she had a bit of a laugh and teased me fondly. She has been cool.
My half brother's mum is gay, so he took it well.
My elder brother, well he said, "Jude (his wife) has kept me up all night praying that you won't tell us you're gay or something. So what did you want to tell me?"
- In 1986, my Mom said: "Oh, good! No more Grandkids!". Was the youngest of her five spawn. She was done with motherhood. But she liked that my partner was "a good eater". My ex loved to be catered to.
Five years into our 26 year relationship, our individual identities got crossed, and so we became one person. The Gay Uncles.
My (now ex) partner's Latina Mama cried for a week over her baby being gay, but she soon -- intelligently -- got over it. We (mostly me, the boyfriend) became her meal ticket until she died.
I was glad that our parents did not try to have us killed for being faggots. But over the decades, every time I caught him cheating, it was incumbent upon me to make things work out. After all of our parents died, it happened again and I kicked the bitch to the curb.
Most of my adult life was wasted on hoping for acceptance from our families and trying to maintain a "heteronormative" yet bad relationship.
Peeps shouldn't give two fucks for what anyone else thinks. Follow your gut feeling.
- R44, I was raised Church of Christ and now I live in Austin, too. Small world.
- I've been crying like an idiot over this thread. Not sure what gets me more, the people with understanding parents, or the ones that had it bad.
R70 I'm glad you survived, too. So did I. I tried to kill myself not b/c of family and parents - but because life was hell once I left my house. I was that kid everyone teased from the first day of first grade on, and once I was in 11th and 12th grade the teachers, faculty and administrators joined in the verbal and physical abuse.
So here's to surviving - living well is the best revenge!
- This may be a good poll - who accepted it better: Mother or Father. As indicated up thread, my father was way better about it than my mother. Mom came around just fine, but we had to sort through some drama on her part.
- I told my mother last because she is a huge drama queen and I knew she would overreact.
Everyone in my family knew, including my father, who only said "You know I love you, no matter what".
I was home for Christmas and going out to a party with my brothers. We were in my parents bedroom talking to my mother and some how it came up.
My older brother said "for christ sake mom, he's gay, everyone knows". She asked me if it was true and I said yes.
She dramatically started to cry, threw herself on her bed and screamed "I loved you best".
My brothers and I burst out laughing because we knew it wasn't true because she had used that line on all of us at some point.
She then said "wait until your father hears about this. He'll never accept a gay son".
We then told her he's known for years and didn't care. Which really sent her over the edge so, we left.
The next day she was pissed off at everyone and blamed me for ruining Christmas.
- mom said: "DO YOU PLAY THE BOY OR THE GIRL...?"
- I added a poll. Link below.
- "We're better off raising animals in the back yard-at least you can kill them for food"- my sainted mother.
- My grandmother sat me down and said, Your mother says you're...some kind of playboy".
Swear to God.
- My dad died several years ago and I never came out to him.
Not out to my mom for a couple of reasons. First off, it's none of her business.
Secondly, my oldest sister is my half sister. My parents didn't tell me, my dad's friend brought it up in conversation assuming I knew.
My sister knew since she was a kid, she found out from our grandma, not from our mom. My sister and I discussed it for the first time only a couple of years ago.
It's embarrassing to find out something this basic from a family outsider and I'll never know why my parents didn't discuss it with us.
My reasoning about not coming out to my mom is that if she can have her secrets, so can I. Yeah I'm sure she's aware I'm gay even though I've never told her.
I know for a fact it will never be discussed before she dies.
- So many of these are funny and heart-warming. Thanks for the thread.
My parents had the same reaction as many: sigh. Then, "We love you and want you to be happy."
- I was twelve, my Mom found the magazines, woke me up at five in the morning to have the "talk". She asked, "Do you like boys?" I said, "I don't know", she took that to mean yes, and that was the end of that. Been accepted as the gay son ever since.
BTW, you bitches are messin' with my emotions!
- When I first told Georg, he said:
"Honey, the cardinals and I have always known. Everyone could see how you stared at the Swiss Guards. Now dilate that asshole for daddy."
I have never felt so loved and accepted.
- I don't think I ever told them. I'm pretty sure my sister never told them she was straight.
- I have bawled my eyes out throughout this thread.
Some wonderful stories, some awfully sad. Thank you all for sharing something very personal with this straight female.
- My father died when I was a child. Only able to tell my mother. She asked that I not tell anyone and leave our small rural town.
- Dad, "I don't want you bringing your gentleman callers to the house again."
Mother, "It's my fault. If I hadn't rejected you when you were five when I found you playing suck the tote with Michel Bullen in the bushes, you wouldn't be this way."
- R57, seriously, what a great story! I think your story, and several others here, could be the bases of good plays or indy films; I am serious!
Or: An Evening of Coming-Out Stories, done at an Off-Off-Bway theater. Perhaps someone has already produced such an evening? Could feature gay coming-out stories AND parents.
I would love to see parents of gay children on talk shows. SOme of your stories are making me cry - sad, mad - at how you were treated by your parents (I'm a supportive hag, BTW.) I cannot IMAGINE kicking an under-18 CHILD out of the house; I would like to think that these days Child Protection Service would - fine parents? put THEM in jail? (I'm being my own "Mary" here, sorry!)
I wonder if by and large parents of teenagers these days (I'm old - 50+) have gotten any better, by and large.
- My conservative "Let me get a drink" mom eventually married a guy whose oldest son was also gay. It's like they both made up for their initial disdain by focusing on the other's child.
My stepfather went out of his way to compliment me on anything I did, included me in everything, accepted my boyfriends.
My mother adored his oldest son Michael, who was a great guy, a little femme. He still called his father "Daddy" in his 30s. I used to chuckle because his dad would roll his eyes.
When Michael was dying from AIDS, they devoted themselves to his care and returned all the unconditional love he had given them over the years.
Then they opened a church-related AIDS center in their small NC town.
- R95, Being kicked out of the house is not much worse then enduring non-stop emotional and psychological abuse. Or going to the authorities and being asked why you don't have friends or relatives to take you in permanently. The words, I love you," were never spoken to anyone in my family. I'm straight and you'd literally never hear the end of it if you even tried to date someone of a different religion, leastwise the same sex. Like some of those on this thread, parents saw me as an extension and reflection of themselves. Heaven help if I tried to think or act differently. Everyone thought children were born to gather praise for those who birthed them.
I'm adding this post in sympathy to those who didn't come from "a good family." You don't have to be gay to be dissed permanently. Hope you find truly loving, supportive people in your life as a positive substitute.
- I came out in 2000 to my Mom over AOL instant messenger. I think she was leading me to say something. My partner, who I am still with, was gone for the summer, and she could tell I was depressed. I got the reply: "Are you sure?" and then I said we had to speak. I called and she was crying and said: "I knew I should have never given you tap dance lessons!" hahaha We both laughed. The crying wasn't because I was gay or going to hell. It was because I would have lots of hate coming my way from others.
I was in summer school. She told me to drop out and come home for a visit. She invited my partner to come too. He was living just an hour away from them. They all met him and love him to this day.
When I first got home, my Dad sat down with me and gave me a talk on how much he loved me and always will. My older sister did the same.
My Dad had attempted suicide the previous fall. My Mom had just gotten through a battle with cancer. My sister finally was pregnant after many years of trying. It was the start of a new way of life for all of us. We were on equal ground. All just humans trying to make it in this crazy world.
- R98 There's a good book in that story. Flesh it out.
- [quote] I have bawled my eyes out throughout this thread.
- Y'all are so special, aren't ya? Well, try this one on for size. My ma pimped me out to the truckers down at the "Stop N Fill" on I80 when I was 9. I still walk funny. When I expressed an interest in impersonating "early Tammy Wynette" they stuck me in the Crazy House!
- "Burt! Burt! I won the bet! Stevie just said he's a gay! You owe me fifty bucks!"
- I came out to my Texas family at the dinner table in October of 1981. I was 16. My brother, a year older, was pressuring me about a girl that liked me and kept hounding me to ask her out. He had been on my case for months. He mentioned that certain people at school were starting to talk behind my back that I may be gay, since I seemed to have no interest in girls and I spent all my time with my best friend Jeremy (who was not the most masculine guy on earth).
My parents chimed in at and mentioned how pretty and great the girl was and how most guys would have killed or died to get that kind of attention from a girl that was that perfect. I put my fork down and just exclaimed, "Look, it's not going to happen. She is beautiful and she is my friend, and in another universe I would be all over her. I am gay. I didn't ask to be gay, but I am. So, please leave me alone about Jennifer."
My mom sat there shocked and could not say anything. My brother said nothing. My father, my hero, simply threw his napkin onto his plate and walked out of the house. I heard his truck drive off. My brother said, "Jeez, I can't believe this." and walked outside. I got up to go to my room and mom stood up and pulled me into her arms and began to weep uncontrollably. She told me how much she loved me and it was okay. She was just so shocked.
My father was gone all evening. At about one in the morning I was laying in bed crying and I heard him drive up and come into the house. In the days that followed, he was civil, but cold to me for weeks and eventually began to warm up to me, but it was never the same. My brother got used to the idea pretty quick and we have always been very close. Nothing will ever change that. I graduated from high school and went off to the big city to college.
I was home visiting for a couple of weeks in the summer of 1987, after I had finished college. My father was outside grilling meat for a bunch of relatives and family friends who were over, and I had a moment alone with my mom in the kitchen.
I mentioned how dad seemed to have changed and was back to his old funny and charming self and didn't seem to be angry or disgusted with me anymore. She held me and said some things to me that still make me teary-eyed to this day.
She said, "Baby, your father was never angry or disgusted with you. That night that you told us about your being gay and he left the house, it wasn't because he was disgusted. He drove for hours crying his eyes out because he wanted a good life for you. He knew how hard life was for gay people and didn't want you to have an unhappy life. That night, when he came home, we cried in each other's arms."
She told me that he didn't fully understand homosexuality. He spent weeks and months going to the library and acquiring books and reading up on the subject. She said that when I graduated from college he was so proud of me that he had tears rolling down his face at the ceremony. She said, "He is happy, so happy for you, because now he knows that you are making a good life for yourself and he sees how happy you are. We are both so proud."
My brother walked in and lightened the mood. We went outside to join our guests for a good old Texas barbeque. After the guests had gone home, we sat outside under the stars and drank beer. Mom turned in early. My brother was next. My dad and I sat and talked into the night. Before I turned in, I embraced him and told him how much I loved him. He hugged me and said the same. He was a great man and I am proud that he was my father.
- Thank you so much for sharing. My daughter came out to me at Christmas. I had always known, but you don't tell your children who they are, they have to tell you.
- Some of these seem really dramatic and scripted, like those old Movies of the Week or Afterschool Specials. Not saying that anything is made up, but some of these sound a little punched up for added drama.
- "I know. Somehow, I've always known."
- R105 Actually, coming out to your family is pretty dramatic. Emotions run rampant with all people involved. I know my coming out was very similar to some of the most dramatic of stories on here. Shock. Rejection. Tears. Fear. Enventual acceptance. Peace. None of these stories sound over-the-top to me. I know how dramatic my coming out as a lesbian was, all those years ago. Gay men do tell a story with dramatic flair, lol, but I, quite frankly, believe them all.
- "mom- "oh my God what are you doing to me? as she grabs her chest.
Dad, "well keep it to yourself because people don't like gay people"
- "oh... I knew when you were little."
- My sister feels bad about telling her then 15 year-old daughter to "wait a while" before she announced she was bi--she said she was familiar with how straight girls these days go around claiming to be bi but are trying to get attention and such. She wanted my niece to be sure and not join that crowd.
When my niece was 16 and still insisted she was bi, my sister realized it was genuine and said something like, "Of course that's fine with me." But she feels bad that she might have given the wrong message initially.
Great kid, though. Great kid and great mom.
- When I was 20 I came out to my parents after moving out of the house. On that day my mother ran into the bedroom, threw herself on the bed and started crying. My father dramatically exclaimed, "You're breaking your mother's heart!"
Forward 5 years and my father is dead. My mother has remarried and now has a "real" family. I was living in Boston on Marlborough Street and she came to Boston to attend a graduation ceremony for her new stepson. She booked a hotel about 2 blocks from my place. When speaking about this later and asking why she didn't call me she said, "I forgot to bring your number."
100% true story.
- My experience was awful. My father was an abusive drunk with a hot temper and my mother was unhappy and scornful. They were very devout in the Baptist church and made us children attend every week. My childhood was not a happy one. I never felt loved at all.
I would NEVER have come out to them on my own. When I was fourteen and fifteen, I was in a secret relationship with my best friend. I never invited him, or any of my few friends, to our house. I was too afraid my dad would come in drunk and start shit in front of them.
One night my friend and I snuck out to meet each other late at night. We climbed over the local park wall and snuck in after hours. We sat in the dark, talking, laughing and finally we began to make love. While we were in the middle of it, a light shined on us. It was a police officer. He made us get dressed, called us 'fags' and made us get into his car. He took my friend home first and told his mother what we were doing. I sat silently in the police car listening to her screaming at her son.
The officer got back in the car and drove me back to the house. My parents were furious and after the officer left, they screamed and yelled at me about what a vile, sick, perverted, evil person I was. I backtalked and my religious father beat the hell out of me. He showed no mercy. Every time he hit me he screamed, "Now, are you a fucking queer?" I begged my weak mother for help and she just shrugged and turned away.
My father dragged me to my room and threw me on the bed. He said that he expected me to either straighten up or to get out of his house and never come back. He slammed the door. I climbed out the bedroom window and never looked back. I walked 8 miles to my Aunt's house. She was a good woman and I knew she would help me. She gladly bought me clothes, fed me, and raised me through high school. I was close to her sons, my cousins, and living with them was the happiest time in my childhood. I was grateful. She and her kids accepted me and loved me.
I lost contact with my parents and my sisters 46 years ago when I left that house of horrors. After I finished school, I moved to L.A. and have lead a mostly happy life. That seems like a million years ago. I think, and hope, that today's gay kids have it better than my generation did.
- My mother told me that she an my father were aftaid that I didn't like boys OR girls and would grow up lonely.
My dad told me that he only wanted me to be happy and to find a nice guy to settle down with.
This coming from Reagan Republicans.
- 1981 - My parents were intelligent, well-educated, religious, conservative, Reagan Republicans too. I loved my parents dearly, but I was terrified that they would find out their 16 year old son was gay. I was sure it would crush them.
At the beginning of my Junior Year of H.S., my best friend, Raymond, came out to his family, friends, and people at school. It was a small town, so it wasn't too long before my parents got wind of it from the local gossips.
One evening, Raymond was at the house. He had dinner with us. We worked on a school project and watched a little TV. After he left, I was watching some show and my dad walked over to the TV and switched it off. My parents sat down and asked me if it was true that Raymond was gay. I said yes, that he was my friend and that it didn't matter to me at all. Both he and my mom said they liked Raymond and that he was welcome in the house any time.
My dad said that there were stories around town that I was gay, too. I sat speechless. I was shaking like a leaf. My mom said, "It's okay if you are. We would still love you as much as we ever did. Nothing would change." My dad said, "Yeah, it's no different than having blue eyes or red hair. It's just a variation of the human condition. We just want to let you know that, if you are, you can feel safe to tell us. It doesn't matter."
I came out to them. They were right. Nothing changed. I had feared them finding out for so long. Then it turned out to be no big deal at all. I felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders.
The best reaction was from my brother, who was 17. We shared a room together and had the same interest in music (mostly hard rock). When I told him, he shrugged and said, "Well, I don't have a problem with that. Just promise me that you're not going to start buying Barbra Streisand or disco records and we'll be okay."
I promised and we're still okay all these years later.
- At 15, I had no friends. I was a little swishy and shy. Picked on at school mercilessly. My brother was two years older and a jock. Very popular and a ladies man. One evening, he had his best friend over. That particular friend sometimes picked on me at school. I thought he was a dick. We were all in the kitchen. My mom (a divorced beautiful woman) was making pizza while we all sat at the bar. At one point, my mom walked out of the room. My brother's friend said, "Hey, I hear you love cock. I'll bet you love taking it up the ass." I said, "Fuck you, asshole!" My brother said, "Why don't you just admit it, Michael, everyone knows anyway. Just admit it." My mom walked in and said, "Admit what?" My brother said, "Just tell Michael to admit that he's gay. We all know." My mom said, "Well, if he's gay, big whoop! Leave him alone. Michael, if you're gay I don't care." I said, "Well, I am." My brother and his jerk friend laughed and made fun of me. My mom sent them out of the room without having pizza. My mom, my sister and I had our pizza and said nothing. At one point, my mom reached over and messed up my hair. She smiled and winked. I knew everything was going to be okay. My brother and I were never close, and after he left home I rarely saw him for the next 28 years. He and his wife moved back to town about five years ago (after their children were raised). He's a much better person now. We are closer than we ever were as children. My sister's kids love me, dearly. Mom remarried and she and I are still the light of each other's lives.
- I was home from college one weekend. I dropped the bomb.
DAD - "This is unacceptable, son. This choice is doing to be your undoing! I can't accept this."
MOM - "How can you do this to us? Why couldn't you just keep this business to yourself? After all we've done for you."
I was upset and left. I went and spent the night in my dorm room, depressed and crying myself to sleep. I woke up to knocking on my door. I opened the door and saw my crying mother standing there. She hugged me and begged for forgiveness for her behavior. She was alone and said my dad just 'wasn't ready' to deal with it yet. The next Thursday, my dad called me and invited me to the house for the weekend. We all talked and they eventually accepted me as I am.
- Very touching story Joey, but why did it take six years for you to learn that? And if he really wanted you to have a happy life why didn't that happy life start in your house? You were only SIXTEEN YEARS OLD.
How many of our teens have we lost because they think no one supports them and how many of those grieving parents now wish they had been supportive?
I'm glad you have your support group but no one should have to wait six years to find out it was there.
- It was 1971 and I was a 17 year old freshman in college. My mother called one day and asked if I would go with her to Rich's Department store. I couldn't figure out why she would want to come pick me up and have me go with her as she'd never asked me to do it since I'd moved into the dorm. As we were on the way downtown she casually mentioned my best friend and said "he's such a sweet young man, I think the world of him". I was like "uh......ok, yeah I think he's a good kid too". Then she dropped the bomb. She says "is he your boyfriend"? For a split second I wanted to jump out of the moving car, but I composed myself and said "why would you ask that"? She said "well sweety it's not like I don't know you like boys, and there's nothing wrong with that because it takes all kinds to make the world go 'round". I just sat there stunned and silent until we got into the parking structure. As she turned the car off I asked her "would you really not be upset if I said I was a homosexual" ("gay" wasn't part of my vocabulary at that point, at least sexuality wise). She said "now, what did I say before?". That was all it took to ease my fears. I told her she was right and that was it, except I did ask her what we were going to do about my father. She just said not to worry and he would be dealt with. What she meant was that I never had to worry about him uttering a single negative word about it to me because he knew exactly what he would get from her, and my grandparents in Savannah (who I told a few days later in a letter). Of course over the years he found other ways to signal his great displeasure with me, not that I cared.
- My mother found out because she read my diary. he called me a disgusting pervert and said my grandparents would have been ashamed. When we argued, her stock insult was calling me 'little gay bastard'.
Forward 25 years and we get on great, she adores my boyfriend and supports gay marriage. We are both more accepting and in happier circumstances than when she was like that and I was a fucked up teen.
- My coming out to my parents was the result of a local scandal in our small town. I was 17 and had fallen for the local pharmacist. He was 30 and absolutely gorgeous. We fell in love and began a torrid affair.
The affair came to light (and was quite the talk of the town) and my parents were furious.
Dad's First Words: I'm going to have that child molesting son of a bitch thrown in fucking jail!
Me: I'm not a child! I'm 17. Our relationship is legal. We're in love.
Dad: You're not in love. You're confused. He molested you.
Me: No, dad. I molested HIM! I am gay and he's my lover. Get over it.
He reached for the phone to call the police. My mom grabbed the phone and hung it up.
Mom's First Words: Are you really gay? When did you start this affair?
Me: Yes, I'm gay. We started seeing each other three months ago. There's nothing illegal about it.
They weren't happy, but my parents accepted my being gay. They were not happy about my relationship either. I moved in with my pharmacist boyfriend when I turned 18. Paul and I were together for 41 years. He died two years ago, after a short battle with pancreatic cancer. My parents eventually accepted my partner and welcomed him into the family. We made it though those difficult times.
- My Mom said, "I also hope you're into drag, I always wanted a daughter."
- Fucking Streisand!
- R117 No, no one should have to wait six years. During my last two years at home, before college, my dad treated me well. He was a little distant, but we did have a relationship.
A big part of that distance between us was because of me. I had made the assumption that my father was disgusted with me. So, I stayed away from him as much as possible. I put up a wall to avoid being hurt. Maybe he could have done more to break it down, but I think he was doing the best he could.
He was in his early 40s and of a different time. I have no doubt that many of his contemporaries would have completely disowned their child. To his credit, he did study and try to understand the situation and eventually came around fully. We were very close for the rest of his life.
- R120 I once dated a guy whose parents had his considerably older lover/sex partner prosecuted and put in jail. Your situation reminds me of him. I dumped him as soon as I heard this story. Even though he and I were 30, I didn't want to be with someone whose mother had such a strong negative influence on him.
- I have a friend whose father said, "so you like the dick, huh?"
- Mom: Okay -- I'm all right with it, but it's killing your father.
Dad: Well, I see no problem, but your Mom's pretty upset.
Sis: Oh, they've been talking about you and...that...since you were in fourth grade.
- I've told my story here before in similar threads. I've known I was gay since before puberty, but I kept it to myself. Fundie parents. I played the good son, and dated girls all through HS and college. Girls love to hang out with guys who aren't trying to get into their pants. My parents footed the whole bill for my college education.
I graduated and got in on the ground floor of the IT revolution. I was making good money and my parents were proud of my success. Once I was on solid financial ground, I came out to my folks. Needless to say, they were beyond shocked. It took them a couple of years to come around, but things are back to normal. Sometimes I think they love my partner more than they love me.
I feel fortunate I had enough sense to work this whole situation to my advantage.
- Dad- " The first time you take it up the ass it hurts." Swear to God.
- My Mother: "Well I always knew. [dramatic pause] But I still don't support gay marriage."
My dad lives in another country and is crazy. We have next to no personal relationship, and I wouldn't even tell him what I had for dinner last night.
Yet strangely he is very liberal even though he is certifiably insane, and has always said that sexuality is not a big deal, that people are far too interested in other people's love lives. Go figure!
The best reaction I got was from my aunt, who I hadn't been in contact with since childhood, after she and my mother had a falling out. I didn't even have to tell her. She saw me after almost 20 years, took me in her arms, and said "I've always known who you were, I've always loved you, and I always will."
She's an old hippie who lived her life on her own terms, made her mistakes, and is at peace with them.
My mother could take a lesson from her.
- My coming out was so easy. I wish everyone's story was like mine. I was 14 in the Summer of 1979. My 15 year old sister was my best friend. We were inseperable. We lived in Los Angeles and we spent our Summer days skating near the beach. One day, early in the Summer, a cute guy from school (obviously gay) skated up to me and we were talking.
After he skated away, my sis said, "I think he likes you." I replied, "I like him too". She said, "No, Mark, I think he "REALLY" likes you." I responded, "Cool. I "REALLY" like him too. My sis cracked me up when she said, "Neat! I have a gay brother. Finally some excitement in my life!"
One evening, toward the end of the Summer, I was playing a board game with my mom, dad, and sister. I was getting up to run to the restroom. My sis was always a chatter-box and loved to talk. She was in the middle of talking about a cute guy and said, "Mark thinks he's gorgeous too. He might try to fight me for him."
I cringed and almost froze in my tracks. I sped up and ducked into the hallway. My sis realized her slip of the tongue and tried to backpeddle on her story, but my mom whisperingly said, "I wondered if he might be gay. No matter. He's such a great kid. Either way, he's going to make someone a great boyfriend."
Dad said, "I had wondered about him too. As long as you kids are not into drugs or illegal activity, it doesn't matter. You're both such great kids."
I stood nervously in the hallway listening and then slipped down to the bathroom to pee. I walked back into the room and my parents just sat there and smiled at me. By the looks they were giving me, I knew they were on my side. I just said, "What are you guys looking at?" Dad replied, "We were just thinking how lucky we are to have such great kids!" I said, "Oh, okay." That was that.
Through the rest of the years I was at home, I brought my friends and boyfriends over. My parents treated them like family. My parents, my sister and my younger brothers (who were born a few years after this indident) are very supportive and loving. I was/am so fortunate.
- Hugs and kisses to R68..
- LOL, My coming out was no surprise to anyone. I came out at 15. It went very well.
I said, "Mom, dad, I'm gay!"
My dad stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Ron, nice to meet you."
My mom did the same, and said, "I'm Christine, nice to finally meet you."
We had a big laugh and I said, "I'm serious, though." My dad said, "We know. We've known since you were very young." We were always a happy family and shared a lot of laughs. My being gay was no problem to anyone in our household.
- These are some amazing stories.
I was adopted, so never felt the need to tell my parents.
- Hugs and kisses to all those who likewise came from a very negative, angry, abusive family. Hope one day that there will be a place for all kids and teen to go to find the love and acceptance that they'll probably never get from home.
- nice thought, r134. Doubt in our lifetime there will ever be universal acceptance. Will always be places one will have to be on guard. esp. with organized religions spewing so much hatred and contempt towards homosexuality.
... Roman Catholic church, step to the front of the line.
- I was 15. My parents sat me down and asked why I was having so many problems at school (bad grades, fighting, etc.). I told them that I was miserable because I was queer, and being picked on constantly. My dad said, "You're too young to know if you're a homosexual. You just haven't met the right girl, yet. When you do, you will realize that you're normal! This homosexuality thing will never be discussed in this house again...EVER!!!"
Later, I was lying in bed, unable to sleep. I got up to go downstairs for a glass of water. I heard my parents in the living room playing the blame game. Dad was telling mom that she turned me into a sissy by hovering over me. Mom blamed dad for not paying enough attention to me as a child.
The gay issue was never mentioned again. When I was older and would visit, I never even considered bringing my partner. Over the years, I would visit them, they would visit me, but we were never as close (once they realized that I truly was gay). Unfortunate, but I have a great circle of friends and am very happy, despite their denial of that aspect of my life. I am close to my sisters, though.
- Mother: "Now I am that much closer to death."
- In 1974, I was 12 years old. My crush was Donny Osmond. I actually was able to convince my mother to by me Tiger Beat. She told me not to tell anyone I was gay or I'd get beat up. My dad was mostly drunk and oblivious. Later I decided he was probably gay and closeted. Never had the chance to ask him since he died unexpectedly 15 years ago. The guy I figured was his boyfriend just died 2 months ago. Didn't get the chance to confirm with him since his wife was still alive.
By 1975, my taste in guys got better and I was crushing on the Z boys. I fell in with the skaters and stoners in my home town. I still got beat up in high school, but my parents were OK letting my boyfriend sleep over in high school.
- I can relate to your post, r136. I do believe when parents use children in arguments of who created the problem, there is usually a lack of emotional intimacy between the wife and husband. They cannot "accept reality" and the truth and want to scapegoat the other parent.
I do not mean physical intimacy, but insight into their partner. That being said, homosexuality used to be called "The Love that cannot speak it's name." Lots of ignorance left in even "civilized" families.
- My coming out was terrible, terrible, terrible. My father had died when I was 7 (stabbed in a whorehouse on the bad side of town). I was always a bit flamboyant and my mother was very critical of my feminine behavior. She was older when she had me and was a very strong Catholic. She was also Mexican and came from a culture that had very negative views on homosexuality.
I went to her when I was 18 and told her I was gay and in love with another man. She began screaming at me at the top of her lungs that my acting feminine when I was younger turned me into a pervert. She picked up her broom and began to beat me. I ran out of the house and she kept chasing me with the broom and hitting me all the way across the porch and down the sidewalk. She screamed to me that I was never welcome in her house again. I tried to talk to her after she had calmed down, but she said I was dead to her.
That was 1976. I remained close to one of my sisters. The rest of my sisters and brothers disowned me. I saw my mother at a family funeral in the mid-80s. She scowled at me and said she hated the way I was and that god was going to give me AIDS and that I deserved it. I never spoke to her again. She died a few years later. I did not attend her funeral.
- God Bless you, R140.
I hope your life is happier now.
Sad to think "adults" can inflict so much hostility, hate and evil on their own children or anyone else's.
As an adult, I now avoid any people including relatives who are not friendly or supportive toward me.
- R141, Thank you. My life has been very happy. For many years I felt a great deal of depression over the rejection from my family. Finally, I realized that they were the ones with issues, not me. I am at peace and I am married to the man of my dreams. I have many close friends and have a great career. Thank you for your kind words.
- Thank you for sharing, R140 ... great to hear!
- Mom: "Sweetie, Helen Keller knows you're gay, and she's blind, deaf and dead. I really hope you don't think I'm that stupid, I've known since you were 2, you silly queen. Now hug me and bring me the fucking coffee I asked for ten minutes ago."
Dad: "I'm gonna say 2 things about this, then we're all gonna go get dinner: Don't get AIDS, and for fuck's sake, don't use your teeth. *side-eye at my mother*"
Sister: "Duh, asshole."
Brother: "Do you think we're fucking retarded?"
I love my family.
- I grew up in the '70s and never actually came out. I came from a large family. My parents had nine children. I know they knew I was gay from early childhood. I never had to make an announcement. I was just me. My brothers had girlfriends and brought them to the house. My sisters had boyfriends and brought them to the house. I had boyfriends and brought them to the house. I was never treated any differently by my parents or brothers and sisters. My parents welcomed my friends and lovers with open arms. We were a very happy and unique type of family. My parents were born in the late-1920's, but were wise beyond their years. I never grew up feeling inferior for my same-sex feelings. I am grateful for having the opportunity to grow up with them as my family. I miss you mom and pop!
- Dad raised me by himself. He and the woman who gave birth to me were never married. She got pregnant out of wedlock and didn't want to be tied down with a child. I met her once, when I was eight, but there was no real connection between us. No biggie. I had Dad and that was enough.
When I was a kid, we always used to go to the park near where we lived on the weekends. Dad called it "girl watching". We would pack a lunch, go boating, fishing, etc. We always had so much fun. He was my best friend. We would sit on the grass and eat our lunch and Dad would point out the "hotties" walking by. He'd say, "Hey, Junior! Check out the blonde in the yellow bikini." It was a fun little game, but I think that by the time I was 13, he figured out that I wasn't all that interested.
One afternoon, I saw a boy from school playing with his dog on the grass. I was so attracted to him and couldn't take my eyes off of him. Dad nudged me and said, "Hey, Junior! If you think he's cute, go talk to him." I defensively said, "Oh, my God, Dad! You think I'm... ? I was just watching him play with his dog"
Dad looked at me and smiled. He said, "Junior, life's too short. I love you more than anything on this Earth. Who you're attracted to won't make me love you any less. Now, go talk to him, if you want to."
I did go talk to him. He became my first serious boyfriend. My dad was always cool about my sexuality. In high school, he and I would double date. I would take Jimmy and he would take his lady flavor of the month.
- R146, I love that story. He sounds like Kurt's dad from Glee.
- R147 Thank you. Dad is still my best friend. He's getting older now, but we still hang out all the time. I live nearby and we still double date, he and his wife and me and my partner. I grew up a small family, just him and me, but there was more love in our household than in many homes with large families. I thank God every day for being his son and I could not imagine what my life would have been without him.
- 1987. Midwest.
Mom: Of course you know we love you very much.
Mom: Bob, don't you want to say something?
Dad: Well, it's not like your mother and I haven't discussed the possibility.
Then we got drunk.
They were very accepting and I'm always grateful that I have such wonderful parents.
- In 1982, when I was 15, my best friend spent the night. The next morning my father opened my bedroom door to ask me to help him fix the lawn mower. He got more than an eye-full. My friend and I were cuddling in bed, fully nude, with the covers off. He closed the door and walked out without saying a word.
My friend was embarrassed and snuck out the backdoor. I stayed in my room for a bit, to get the nerve to go to the kitchen for breakfast. I walked in and my mom was making breakfast. I heard my dad mowing outside. She asked me if I wanted bacon and eggs. I said yes, please.
My mom called my dad, and the family sat down for breakfast. No one uttered a sound. My brother and sister made small talk, but they had no idea what had just happened. I finished my plate and took it to the dishwasher. I started to leave the room and my dad pointed to my chair (indicating that I needed to sit back down). My brother and sister finished eating and went outside.
Dad said, "I told your mother what you and Gregory were doing in there. David, are you a homosexual?" I told him my sex life was private. He said, "Not in this house, it's not. You're 15 years old. You're too young to be having a sex life." Mom said, "You really are too young, we can't condone that."
Dad continued, "You will not have that boy over here again. This topic is closed and will never be discussed in this house again. That is a sick and demented lifestyle and you will not be a part of it". He got up and went to finish mowing.
Mom sat there another moment and said, "I love you, dear. Just please don't have sex in this house again. You can be gay, but we don't want to hear about your lifestyle. It's immoral." She walked out and left me alone in the kitchen. My father and I never had any kind of relationship after that. I continued to live there, he paid for my food and clothing,etc., but was never there emotionally.
When I moved to a neighboring town for college, mom would visit me on campus. I would visit my family on holidays. My father and I were cordial, but he was clearly aggitated by my, as he called them, "life choices."
My sexuality was never discussed again in their presence. They never visited my home after I moved in with a partner. If I wanted to see them, I had to visit them, alone. I was very disappointed in my parents. I loved them, but I was hurt by their blocking out that part of my life. They are both gone now. I really wish they had been able to get over their stubbornness and old-fashioned ways. We could have had some wonderful shared memories over the years.
- When I was eight years old, my family was driving back from visiting my Uncle Pete and my Uncle Sal. After years of visiting them, I finally became inquisitive.
I asked my dad, "Uncle Pete is your brother, right?"
Dad: Yes, he's my brother.
Me: Then, Uncle Sal is your brother too?
Dad: No. Uncle Pete is my brother.
Me: Then, mom? Is Uncle Sal your brother?
Mom: No, Sweetie!
Me: Then, how is Uncle Sal my Uncle?
Dad: Sally, do you want to handle this one?
Mom: Sure, George. Okay, Honey, Uncle Pete and Uncle Sal are kind of like your daddy and me. They are life-partners.
Me: Like married?
Mom: Yes, Sweetie. Sometimes men are attracted to other men and they live together.
Me: When I get big, I want to marry a man too.
Dad: Why not marry a woman, Son?
Me: Because women are too squishy!
My parents still tease me about that day. When I actually did come out a few years later, they were not shocked at all. They're great!
- 1985: I was fifteen. My parents took my brother and me to see the movie "Back To The Future." On the way into the theater, a group of boys from school (who always picked on me) walked past us and one boy said, "Oh, there's that queer Blake from school." The other guys called me a "fag", "faggot", etc. My dad yelled at them and then asked me why they were talking about me like that. I said that they do that at school too. They're just jerks. My brother spoke up and said, "Everybody at school thinks Blake is gay. I always take up for him, though". Mom said, "Blake, just don't worry about them. They're idiots. Besides, it's not true." I paused and said, "Yes, it is. I am gay." My parents both responded with, "Uh, okay." We went in and watched the movie. We went on about life as usual for a day or two and finally we discussed it. They were okay with it and had actually suspected. No problems at all.
- Talk about "feel good" stories, R146 & R151 !!
I loved hearing about your wonderful parents.
- If this thread was a book I would buy it and consider it money well spent.
Parents and sex ed teachers who aren't in the dark ages should make it standard practice to say at that time, If you happen to be gay, that's ok. Whether they think you are straight or gay. It would save so many years of fear for so many and as a bonus straight kids would hear it's ok too.
- R154, I agree. I'm just thrilled to hear about so many wonderful, loving, positive parents.
My college beau's father used to constantly tell him, in front of me, "now just don't turn gay on me when you're in Los Angeles. There's a lot of gays down there." It really gave my boyfriend an insecurity complex. He was even afraid to masturbate because he thought he'd then turn gay. I could never reassure him of the truth.
- Me: I have a girlfriend.
Mum: what do you mean by girlfriend?
Me: what do you think I mean?
Mum (later that night): I love you and I'm glad that you're happy.
Sister: how embarassing, and I stuck up for you all this time! Don't think that I'm going to meet her! (she later apologised).
Other sister: that's awesome, I'm so proud of you!
- My cousin (and best buddy) Johnny and I were both 14 and gay and knew it at an early age. He and I decided to come out at the same time. We were at our grandma's house and we walked into the dining room and declared to our parents and our grandma that we were both gay. We both had a flair for the dramatic.
My dad was the first to speak,"Uh, Son. Uh, okay."
Our parents were really great about it. They had wondered about us anyway. How could they not? Johnny and I were both dramatic and more than a little queeny. My grandma hugged us and thought it was great. We were such cut-ups and characters that they had to accept us. Johnny and I remained close until he succumbed to AIDS in 1997. I think about him every day and smile. He's still with me. He always will be.
- When I was 13 my brother said to me, "Everyone's talking about the biggest faggot in the neighborhood. And that's my brother."
I was young for my age and had no idea what they were talking about. I was just being myself. My brothers, friends, father and relatives were all saying the same thing about me and mocking me and yet I truly didn't understand what they were talking about.
- I have a gay friend who told me his father made an appointment with the family doctor after he told his parents he was gay. His father was sure it is a medical condition that can be cured or fixed. Very sad. He is a very sweet gorgeous openly gay living young man now, like him a lot!
- I agree @R154. I start to laugh, then get sad reading R140.
- Dad found gay porn links in the history of my computer. I was 16. He confronted me with my mom present and told me what he found. I didn't deny it, although the urge to was very strong (he did have proof after all)...
I told them I thought I was attracted to guys more than girls. He said, "I already made an appointment for you to see the pastor. You are not...gay. You are my son, and my son is normal!"
My mom agreed with the assessment but also added in that I would be getting a mental evaluation as well.
I cried for awhile as they left me alone in my room.
I met with the pastor and went along with everything. I met with a shrink and went along with the antidepressant treatments.
I have since then continued to deny my sexuality. I came out to two friends when I was 19 and everything changed between us. They pulled away and I am no longer friends with them.
I'm 25 now and still heavily in the closet. I apologize if by admitting this I upset most of you. I do enjoy posting here though and reading all your thoughts, but for now this works for me.
- I was 18 and attending college when I came out. I was still living at home. I made my declaration and my father went through the roof. The following day, he made me apply to move into the dorms. He wanted me away from my three little brothers. He thought I would be a bad influence. My mother hissed about how this was a Christian family and this kind of thing doesn't happen. I spent most of my freshman year of college in a deep, black depression and did not call my parents. I refused to take their phone calls. They tried to visit me on campus a few times, but I wouldn't see them. I made some good friends and joined some gay clubs on campus. Near the end of the year, my parents finally ambushed me on campus and hugged me and told me they loved me. They wanted me in their lives. I was, like a few others on this thread, told that I was welcome in their home, but I was never to discuss my orientation or bring "homosexual lovers" into their home. I have never really been close to them again. I got a job in a far away city and have lived here for many years. We visit, but there's no real closeness. My brothers are good guys and we visit often and are close. I think my youngest brother is gay also (very closeted). He pings off the radar. I know he would never come out, even to me, based on the way my parents treated me. Parents, whether homosexuality fits into the realm of the acceptable or not for them, should never do or say anything to make their children feel rejected or inferior. It's poison to the soul. Not just to their child's soul, but to theirs, as well.
- R161 You are still young. Do what works best for you. I hope you find a close circle of gay friends for support. Best wishes to you.
- I came out in college as well. My parents flew off the handle and I left their house crying after they said horrible, cruel and terrible things. I drove back to my dorm room in the pouring rain weeping like a baby. I was in a black depression for months, but unlike R162, my parents never tried to reach me. When they finally did call me, at the end of the school year, it was to tell me that unless I had changed my mind about the "morality issue" that they would not be paying for my second year of college.
I ended up getting a loan for my 2nd year of college. I earned my Associates Degree, left Michigan and moved far away to Texas. I have never had contact with them since. One of my sisters tried to friend me several times on Facebook a couple of years ago, but I ignored her. She had been horrible to me after I came out. I am happy and I have a good life now. My new family far exceeds the old one. Sometimes your true family members aren't the people you are related to by blood, but the people who are brought into your life by random chance.
Seth in Austin, TX
- I came out at 22. Two days before my wedding. I was engaged to a girl from college. I was pressured into it by my parents and the girl. I almost had a nervous breakdown in the weeks leading up to the wedding and I had a mild meltdown. I blurted it out right after the rehearsal. I couldn't live a lie anymore.
My brother stood by me (we had always been close), but the rest of the family turned their backs on me. The hurt was unbearable. I considered suicide, but my brother helped me through the dark days and nights. His support was what saved me. His unconditional love.
In time, my family reconnected with me and slowly began to accept me. After 10 years, I still harbor a great deal of resentment for them. I try to forgive them, but it still hurts so much that they could turn their back on someone so close. That hurt never fully goes away.
- "Move over son, you're in the way. I'm trying to watch Golden Girls".
- My mother: "Don't tell your father. And promise me you'll never do anything with a woman." Of course, being a woman, I really couldn't agree to that.
- R161- I am sorry that you have had bad experiences in coming out. I assure you that once you find someone who stills loves and supports you after coming out, an amazing feeling of freedom will overcome you. I didn't come out until I was 27 and have never felt so 'normal' in my whole life. I have had some negative experiences but I always remind myself that it is their issue, not mine. I let it be my issue for 27 years and I won't take anyone's prejudice as an indication of how I should live my life.
- 161, 162,164 and 165 should cut off their parents forever and have nothing to do with them. If they try to get in touch, get a restraining order on them, that's the only way to handle jerk off christian types like that, it's the only thing they understand. If they have money and when they're both dead they damn well better have left you your fair share and good riddance to bad rubbish. Just because I am related to someone doesn't make it some obligation that I should be buddies with them. I have a brother I haven't spoken to since I was 12 and I am now nearly 59 so I'm good at it if I have to be.
- "You'll go to hell."
- Mine was odd and needs to be told in two parts. I told my liberal older sister (I was 20ish, this was 1997?) during a night of cocaine and drinking in a seedy LA hotel she and her horrible boyfriend were staying at. She couldn't have been happier and switched the TV to gay porn to celebrate. So we watched hot men fucking as we did lines and laughed about life. You sort of had to be there, but it was a hysterical, perfect night.
My other sister and mother are both fiercely conservative and because I could pass as straight, played sports, etc., they never suspected even though I brought "friends" home all through my early 20s and they were never women, and I never thought to tell them. Even in high school, I never really tried to be straight. For some reason, I just flew under the "he's gay" radar. Never was teased, or hinted at being gay, etc.
Anyway, finally, when I was 27 and out to literally else everyone in my life, my older sister told me it was time. She was sick of almost bursting into laughter when she, my middle sister, and my mom would chat about why "I hadn't found the right girl" yet convos. (And even today, I don't know why I was so nervous. My sister/mom were conservative, but not insane conservative.)
So I agreed. During a family camping outing, in a crowded RV camping site in Northern California during peak the summer season, I finally did it. But only after the four of us got shit faced drunk.
My middle sister was pissed:
Her: How the hell could you have waited until you were 27 to tell me! I can't even fucking believe it! And all this time you could have fucking shopping with me? Helping me fucking decorate my house?
Me: I'm not that sort of gay. I really do watch sports.
Her: What? What a minute. So you're gay, but you're still the same smelly, annoying little brother who wears cargo shorts and drinks beer?
Me: Yeah, that wasn't part of the rouse. There's actually a lot gays like me.
Her: Well fuck you and fuck the gays like you. I want a new gay brother. I already have a damn, lousy husband.
Mom: Oh and don't think just because you didn't tell me, I didn't know. Mothers always know.
All 3 kids: Mom, you had no idea. You NEVER have any idea.
This went on for hours. It was hysterical. The funniest part was that we hadn't realized that as we got drunker, we also got louder and the entire campground was listening to our conversation. Ah, good times.
- When my mother angrily confronted me about my relationship with a 'friend' in my mid twenties - i finally snapped - and admitted all.
Think she knew instinctively what the truth was - but was afraid as well - and really got angry. Stormed into the house and blurted it all out to my father - who went quite for a little bit then shrugged his shoulders and sighed and said "I've always had bad luck..."
Way to go dad! LOL!
I think it's really very funny now - dad's Ukranian and has a slightly weird European take on things -
Even he realised how bad it sounded after he said it - and did his best to clarify: he escaped the former Soviet Union to work hard and start a new family on the other side of the world, wanted to build a better life for his kid - and then his grand-kids - only now there wouldn't be any grandkids - so he was a little unsure what it had all been for...
Jewish Mothers and Catholic Guilt have nothing on Ukranians.
I used to be really close to my mother and coming out damaged the relationship profoundly. It just wasn't the same or very comfortable afterwards. I moved to another city to study and work - and didn't see much of them for a long time anyway. A few years after she died - liver cancer - and I went home towards the end to help dad care for her at home. It was fine - she was mostly bombed out on morphine - and the whole gay thing wasn't mentioned. Just wan't important.
My dad is still alive. Ninety next birthday and I fully expect him to outlive me! I'm 51 now - still with the same partner from my mid twenties - and dad fully accepts him as family and treats him as his son. Which is a double-edged sword - cos I think it'd be much nicer if he treated my partner as a visitor and stayed on best-behaviour! We see him pretty much for dinner or lunch every week. He's an irascible, crazy old coot - and his European quirkiness which used to drive me nuts! - is now pretty endearing...
- Dad: How do you know? Have you ever had sex w/a woman? Let me try to explain it....you are too young and stupid to know what you want.
Eventually he came around.
Mother: silence for over a week, she eventually came around and pretended afterwards she was just busy when I tried calling her over and over that week and wouldn't answer the phone.
Eventually came around as well, but my sexuality is a a topic that is not brought up or mentioned at all. Gotta lover growing up southern bapitst in a small town in Oklahoma.
- Dad: "Is it true you guys give better blow jobs than women?"
Mom: "What do you think of these shoes?"
Oddly, it was over dinner.
- Oh, and R162, you're an adult. By definition, the closet does not work for you.
Grow the fuck up. Until you do, you are a scared little boy. Is that good news?
- R175 I am not in the closet. My coming out of the closet is what kick-started all of turmoil in my life. I am defiantly out of the closet. I think you must have meant to reply to a different poster. Thank you.
- I had known I was gay from a young age, but growing up in a conservative family and a conservative little town, I hid my sexuality. I had gay experiences with a few buddies, but pretended to be straight with most of my friends. I came out to my parents in 1988, when I was 23. My parents were shocked.
Dad: You can't be. You've always dated girls. You've had girlfriends. What happened to you at college? Did all those liberal professors warp your mind up there?
Mom: This is crazy. You dated all those girls. Did you always know or suspect? I mean, I love you more than anything, but this is just shocking beyond words.
After they got over their initial shock, they were okay. My brother and sister were open-minded and cool with it. The funny thing was that I couldn't understand everyone's shock at my being gay. Even though I dated girls in high school, I was never the most masculine guy on the block. I was actually kind of "femmy". LOL.
Another story: My best friend growing up, Kenny, and I were inseperable. He was from a conservative family and he was totally straight. He was my friend for the entire time we were kids. He and I caroused and banged girls together back in high school. We hung out for a couple of years after H.S. - we attended the same local junior college - and partied.
In early 1986, Ken left to attend a college out of state and we eventually lost contact. I never tried to re-establish contact with him, because I assumed he would be disappointed with me for "lying" to him all thosed years. Then came the era of Facebook. I had been on for less than a month in 2009 when his friend request popped up.
My heart started beating and I considered not emailing him back. I wanted him to remember me fondly. I emailed him back a few lines. He excitedly emailed me back. He was married with kids and lived an hour away from me. He asked all the questions: What I did for a living, Where I was living, and the dreaded, "So, are you married? How many kids?, etc.
I waited a few days and emailed him back. I was going to be honest. Would he hate me? Would he be pissed at me? I went for it. I came out in the email. I nervously waited for a response I assumed would never come. Early the next morning, I opened my email and there it was. He said, "Hey, that's cool, dude? Why don't you come to see us this weekend? here are the directions to the house. I can't wait to see you."
I was so happy I cried. He was my friend unconditionally. He did not judge me and my coming out was not even an issue. Our reunion was awesome. He and his wife made me feel so welcome in their home and we had the best weekend. We are, once again, best buddies.
- Thank you, R171. That is the funniest coming out story that I've heard in awhile!
My oldest brother came out before me. I was 22, and he was 28. I knew I was gay, and I didn't date women. My parents tolerated more than accepted his sexuality at first, but it was more DADT and they wouldn't meet his partner for a bit. Then, it just changed. They accepted him and his partner.
I was afraid to come out, because I didn't want to be the other gay brother. Grew tired of it, so I just came out to them, as I was out to friends and at work. Unfortunately, my Dad had died by then. My older brother has told me that he knew and accepted it.
I'm saddened that I still see gay kids thrown out by their families once they come out. I'm also heartened to see families accept their out brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. I regret hiding who I am when I was in my twenties. Such a waste! Nothing is more important to me now than being out. Could care less if a celebrity is gay. I'm a teacher. It's more important for a kid struggling with his/her sexuality to see a neighbor, doctor, teacher, or any other adult in his/her life who is comfortable and happy with themselves.
- I can't remember specifics. I told my mom separately and asked her not to tell my dad yet. When I sat down to talk to her, the radio was playing "To All The Girls I've Loved Before" by Willie Nelson and Julio Iglesias, and I remember getting up to turn it off because I couldn't tell my mom she had a gay son with that playing in the background.
Anyway, she was shocked. S-H-O-C-K-E-D. She actually thought, upon hearing the opening words I had practiced ("something's been going on that I wasn't ready to tell you about until now...") that I was telling her I got a girl pregnant. When I said the words "I'm gay", her jaw dropped and she was speechless. Then she asked if I had ever had sex with a woman (I had) and if I had ever had sex with a man (at that point I had not). She was utterly confused how I could know I was gay without "trying it first". I asked her if she knew she was straight before marrying my father (the assumption on my part that she was a virgin on her wedding night). She shut up then.
I've told this before on DL and some nasty queen berated me for the rest of the thread, calling me a liar and saying "mothers always know" "your mom knew and was in denial" and even "you must have had a shitty mom for her to not know you were gay"...just ridiculous shit stirring. The reality is that I'm fairly straight-appearing (even to this day) and had dated girls before. I was closeted until I went away to college. I had a close female friend that I talked about that my mom assumed I was dating or at least interested in. My mom really hadn't any overt reason to suspect.
Anyway I asked her not to tell my dad yet but she said she couldn't "deal with this" alone and that keeping a secret like this from him would be akin to lying to him. So she told him privately. He came to see me and was so angry he was shaking. Told me I was a disappointment, selfish, that I disgusted him and that he hated me for "what you're putting your mother through". Then he stormed off and didn't speak to me for a week. Then he quickly did a 180, apologized for his initial reaction, told me he loved me and that he was proud of me for my courage. He's been fine ever since, except for minor things like calling my partner my "friend". I had to explain to him that I have many friends but only one partner, and that he would never refer to my siblings' spouses as their "friend". After that he always called him my partner.
My mom, on the other hand, is still a bit uncomfortable with the fact 20+ years later, although she accepts me and loves my partner the same as her other child-in-laws (maybe more). Still, an awkward coming out.
- JJ (RIP JJ) used to say, "Parents have to come out, too") so reading these stories reminds me that they are like us -- they do it well, or badly.
- I didn't come out to my "parents". I was outed. I was 14 in 1972 and my life was a complete mess. I had messed around with a couple of neighbor boys by that time. That summer, I met a new boy my age who moved in down the street. We became fast friends. One afternoon he seduced me in his bedroom. We messed around for a few weeks. His brother caught us one day and told his parents.
They banned me from their house and called my "parents". My worst nightmare. Both of my "parents" were raging drunks and awful people. They were okay when they were sober, which was rare, but were unholy terrors when intoxicated.
I walked in the door and my "mother" slapped me across the face. My "father" grabbed me by the collar and started hitting me. They weren't very religious, but still spouted the bible thing about men laying with men. I was thrown out of the house and told to never return. I did not.
I spent the first night under a railroad bridge. I eventually made my way to my grandmother's house. I stayed with her until my "parents" informed her of what I had done. She picked up her wallet, handed me $50.00 and told me I had to leave immediately.
The next year was difficult. I travelled the country hitchhiking. I worked odd jobs to eat and was regularly victimized by people I met on the road. Fortunately, I came across a farm and asked the owner for work. He and his wife took me in, gave me a job and gave me stability. They put me in school and I graduated. I will be grateful to them for the rest of my life. If not for them, I would have probably died on the highway somewhere. They are long-gone now, but that farm couple were my saviors. I even legally took their last name. They always had my gratitude.
I went to college, ended up with a great career and I have a wonderful life partner. I have no idea what ever happened to those vile "parents". Probably drank themselves to death. The world is a better place if they are gone. I had a brother and two sisters--I have no idea whatever happened to them. I hope they made it out okay.
- I hope R181 is not a scenario troll. That's a fascinating story.
- R182 I only wish I was just a scenario troll. LOL. I had a rough early life, but I know I can survive anything. I am fiercly strong and no one will ever keep me down. I am quite happy now. When I do (very rarely) think about my childhood, I still get depressed. Then I think of the kindness I was shown by complete strangers and I smile... knowing there is good in the world.
- R181 Great story. Very inspirational. I am sure looking back at the early years makes you depressed it fades quickly when you remember that great act of kindness.
- I want you out of our house. I have not been back since.
- I came out at 16. My brother (17) and I were dating these two girls from school. My girl and I tried to have sex several times, but it was unsuccessful. I could get it up when I closed my eyes and she gave me oral, but I went limp if we tried anything else. One night, after she gave me oral, she expected me to reciprocate. I started to go down on her and I literally threw up on her crotch (she was clean, but the smell of her vagina made me ill). The smell had bothered me before, but I had never been up so close. I was humiliated. She started screaming and called me a fag.
My brother came running over, snapping his jeans. He asked what happened. She angrily relayed the story. My brother took me aside and asked me what happened. I told him I was likely gay. I was sure of it. He had no problem with it. A few weeks later, I sat my parents down. My brother sat next to me and gave me support. They handled it better than I thought they would.
DAD-"Son, are you sure? You're very young. You don't look or act like a gay guy. You're not swishy at all. I don't think you are."
ME-"Dad, I have been with a couple of girls. I've tried, but they do nothing for me. I've been with one guy and rockets went off like the 4th of July!"
BROTHER-"Dad, he threw up on a girl because he didn't like the smell of her privates."
(Mom cringed, Dad held back laughing, I said, "Gee, thanks, Bro. You didn't have to share that part with Mom and Dad.")
MOM-"If that's who you are, that's who you are. We love you and we are fine with it. Would you like for us to schedule an appointment with a counselor to make sure?"
ME-"No, thanks, Mom. I can manage."
They were fine with it. I never had any problems. So much for '80s religious, conservative families all being unaccepting, cold, and bigoted.
- Literally nothing.
They didn't speak to me for six months, during which they got over it. After that, they were very supportive.
- r186 Hilarious story!
- I came home for Thanksgiving break in my second year of college, many years ago. I blurted it out over dessert. Silence... Followed by my father's nuclear explosion.
He screamed, "Why in the fucking hell do you feel the need to share this shit with us? Your mother, your little brother and your little sister do not need to hear this disgusting shit! Why are you shoving this in our faces? Gay people always have to shove this crap in everyone's face. I don't want to fucking hear it! If you're gay, keep it to yourself! I don't tell you about my sex life. I expect the same from you. I love you, but don't rub this shit in my face!" He stormed upstairs.
Tears flowed down my face. Mom hugged me but had no words, just "Oh, baby.". My younger brother (16) and sister (11) were speechless. I left devastated, and spent the night crying, parked in a secluded area. Over time, my parents came to accept my sexuality and became more comfortable with it. We are now a huge part of each other's lives. It took a couple of years, though.
On the one hand, I understood their position. I had all my life (20 years) to sort out who I was. I expected them to just take it all in and deal with it on the spot that Thanksgiving night. I still know they were wrong, but I have forgiven them.
- When I came out, I expected the worst from my church-going parents. They were good, kind and gentle people, and I had never heard a bad or bigoted word out of their mouths about anyone, but I was still terrified.
It was the Fall of 1982, I was 18 and a couple of months into college. I was in love with a great guy and wanted the world to know. I nervously drove up to my parents home one Saturday Morning and sat down at the breakfast table. Mom served up her great cooking and we sat.
We made small talk, mostly about school. My Pop asked me what was wrong. I was shaking.
Me - "I don't want to disappoint either of you, but I have something important to tell you, and I hope you won't hate me."
Pop smiled at mom (which I thought was odd) and said - "What is it, Mikey? Are you doing okay in school... or is it something else?"
Me - "Well, something else. This may shock you, but I am gay."
Mom - "Oh, okay, babe."
Pop - "We kind of thought that's what you were going to tell us."
I had to ask, "Did you already know? I didn't think I was that obvious."
Pop - (He smiled widely) "Well, Mikey. Several years ago, I walked out to the pond looking for you. I came around the corner and I saw you and the Johnson boy playing touchy, feely, kissy. I never said anything to you, but I did mention it to your mother."
Mom - "We have had a while to process this. We are completely supportive. You are our baby. You always will be."
They both hugged me. I knew I had great parents before, but I was never so sure as I was at that moment.
My whole family has been terrific. I have had bad experiences with people, but never my immediate family or relatives.
- I grew up in a small town and moved to the nearby metropolis after high school. After two years of college, I got a job and moved into an apartment with a guy I was seeing. I went back to visit my parents often. They visited me, but it seemed like they had never put two-and-two together about my living situation. For some reason, it seemed as if it never occurred to them that we were two guys living in a one-bedroom apartment. They never said anything or acted differently.
One night, before going clubbing, my "room-mate" and I went out for dinner at a nice, upscale restaurant. It was a beautiful candle-lit dinner. Before dessert we were holding hands across the table and gazing into each others eyes. We were oblivious to the world. A voice interrupted our serene moment. My mother's voice...
I looked to my left and there were my parents and my brother and sister-in-law standing next to our table!!! I was speechless. My roomy and I jerked our hands apart and I was mortified.
Mom cheerfully said, "Oh, sugar-plum, don't be shy around us! Our table was right over there. We saw you guys come in and we were going to come over and say 'hi', but you looked so sweet and happy. We thought we'd wait until we were on our way out." They all hugged my roomy and me and left smiling. Mom signaled for me to "call her."
My Partner, "Oh, shit! Did they already know?"
Me, "I didn't think so".
I called my mom the next morning. I asked her how she knew. She said something to the effect of, "Now, dear. You're sweet, gorgeous and artistic. As far as I know, you've never dated a girl. You live in a one-bedroom apartment with another young, artistic, attractive man. You don't think your daddy and I are blind, do you? The whole family knows. We figured it out a long time ago. We knew you would tell us when you were ready."
I felt like a fool for not telling them sooner. It was so liberating.
Aside - My Dad's first words about my sexuality went something like this: "So, in a relationship with another man, do they nag you as much as a woman does?" I said, "Not really." Dad said, "I may have consider gettin' me a boyfriend." Mom rolled her eyes and we laughed.
- I wish I'd had the parents mentioned by so many of you on this site. I had no idea so many of them were so supportive. Wow.
- My parents loved me, but were not supportive about my sexuality.
MY FATHER: We're going to forget that this conversation ever took place. We will not speak of this again. This is a sickness! This is an abomination. This is unacceptable!
MY MOTHER: What happened to you? Were you molested as a child? How can you embarrass the family like this? No one else knows, do they? You need to see a psychiatrist. This is sick and disgusting.
This happened 40 years ago. I was a confused, scared 18 year old. I moved out of their home that day (my choice, not theirs) and did not return. I did not speak with them for almost a year. I called my mother for her birthday and she broke down crying. She said they had missed me and wanted me back in their lives.
From that time, until their deaths, we visited one another. We had good times and meade some good memories. There was one catch: On my visits, I was not to speak of my "lifestyle" or bring any "romantic interests" into their homes or to family events. They loved me, but I know that they considered my sexuality to be a "mental illness." I always resented that, but I did love my parents, warts and all. They were good to me, but couldn't accept the sexuality issue. It was beyond their comprehension.
- Dear Parents of gays,
You don't need to tolerate this negativity. Call my lawyer, Allison Hart. The law firm is Lavely and Singer. She will send threatening letters to the webmaster and this harrassement will be deleted immediately.No one needs to be so abused like this.
- R162, my profound apology. I was yelling at R161 before my cafeine kicked in. Glad you're out.
- Hey, Tig. Maybe you can call your lawyer, Allison Hart at the law firm Lavely and Singer, and have her arrange to send threatening letters to the Golden State Killer? That will surely piss him off and smoke him out!
- I want to thank everyone for sharing their stories, good and bad. I've been moved beyond belief.
- My parents were divorced. I told them at separate times.
DAD - "Well, I guess it's my fault. I should have asked for custody of you in the divorce. I had a bad feeling that you living with your mother and a house full of girls was a sure-fire recipe for you turning out this way."
MOM - "Baby, I have suspected ever since you were a little boy. By the time you were 13, I knew for sure. You're always gonna be my sweetheart."
My Dad can be a bit of a grouch, but he actually turned out to be okay with it in the long-run. It took a period of adjustment. He was uncomfortable with my partner being around for a while, but he got over it. He would rather I was straight, but he loves me.
- R194 I haven't seen any parent named by name. No one has been slandered. This is anonymous and the parents' names have not been used. You apparently flunked out of law school. I am an Attorney, and you do not have a leg to stand on, quite frankly.
- I came out at 18, two months after high school graduation. I had a summer job, but was still living with my mom and dad.
My father screamed and yelled and said very hurtful things. The worst thing he said was that he needed me out of the house immediately. He thought I would be a bad influence on my younger brothers. He said he wouldn't have them turning into 'fudgepackers' too.
My mother was just as bad. She demanded that I get mental help. I was sick, an embarrassment, and "perverse". I left their house with tears streaming down my face. I considered jumping off a highway overpass, but I didn't want those fuckers to get the best of me. I moved in with my friend Charlie and worked the rest of the summer. I tried to contact them again after a couple of months, but I was told to go away. Go away I did. Fuck them! I went into the Navy and saw the world.
That was decades ago, I never contacted my family again. I made an awesome life for myself after the military. Great friends and a fun-filled & happy life.
- Some interesting stories about coming out in the 70's and 80's. Datalounge does skew old doesn't it.
- I don't want this thread to end.
- This is a Debbie Downer thread. I wish it would go away.
- I came out about 15 years ago. My family was horrible to me. They acted like I was proclaiming to be gay out of rebellion. I was 14 and went to live with my grandma for a few weeks. My parents took me back in but made me go to a church counselor and a psychiatrist. Those church counselors fucked me up. I ended up drinking alot and using drugs. I quit school and my life was really fucked up. I met a great guy who liked me, but told me I had to straighten up or he would dump my ass. I loved him so I got clean. I moved in with him and got my G.E.D. then I went to a couple of years of college. My life was alot better after I got away from my parents. I see them at weddings and funerals but other than that, they can fuck the fuck off.
- Oy gey
- R201 If you're young, I would love to hear your story. I'm young (29), but I am fascinated by this thread. I think it's the best one ever. I love hearing about people's experiences, no matter if they are 18 or 88. Keep the stories coming, people. Thank you for sharing.
- MY PARENTS WERE DIVORCED, SO I GOT TO GO THROUGH IT TWICE A FEW YEARS AGO.
MOM - "I'm so happy that you've finally said something! This is going to kill your father. I can't wait! (laughed wickedly)"
(Mom is hilarious. She and my dad had been through a rough divorce, he had cheated on her for years with countless sluts.)
DAD - "Well, boy, I don't know what to say. Your mother babied you so much, I'm not surprised. I guess I can't blame you too much."
(Dad and I have never been close at all. I told him, but I didn't really care what his reaction was. He's not happy about me, but who cares? Let him bitch about it to one of his whores.)
I grew up in the midwest. My parents were those stereotypical parents that lived for high school football and church. My older brother was the star quarterback. He was a superstar in every sport. I was not. I couldn't catch a football if my life depended on it. My parents forced me into football and baseball. My father was my coach. He screamed at me constantly because I 'wasn't trying'. It was a nightmare.
In 8th grade, I walked off the football field for good in mid-game, after I was ridiculed my my father for a mistake. I was much less tough and masculine than my brother which was also a problem. From an early age my parents called me a sissy -- I was already an embarrassment and disappointment to them long before I ever came out.
I was 15 in June of 1998 and got caught in the back of my parents car getting my dick sucked by another boy from church during a church potluck dinner. My parents drove me home and my dad beat the hell out of me with his belt. I admitted I was gay and they both told me how vile I was and forced me to go to a church camp for 'troubled teens' for five weeks. After that they had me see a church youth minister for counseling. My parents were horrible and judgmental the whole time.
I played the church youth minister like a violin. I told him what he wanted to hear. That I was seduced by that boy in the car and that I really liked girls. My parents still treated me like shit but they were off the gay-bashing. I graduated in 2001 and had signed up to go to the Army. In their kitchen the night before leaving I decided to get even with them for all of the torment about my lack of sports ability and their homophobia. I made the point of saying how I couldn't wait to meet all the hot studs in the Army.
They flew into a rage. Mom screamed, "I guess all that church camp and youth minister counseling was just a damn waste of time! You got nothing out of it!" I said, "No, mother. I got a lot out of it. I met some great guys at church camp, as a matter of fact, that's where I lost my butt-cherry!" My parents were livid. I continued, "Youth Minister? That WAS a waste of time. But you remember Youth Minister's son, Freddie, that used to come over and play guitars with me in my room? The only tune we were playing in my room was "Duelling Bedsprings"!!! They threw me out. I went to basic training the next day. I vowed to myself to never contact them again.
One night overseas I got drunk with this really hot guy I was seeing. We had our picture taken deep kissing, his hand was down the front of my shirt. I mailed my parents a copy of the photo. On the back, I wrote: "Dear Mom and Dad. Thank you for your love and support. Thank you for the "WONDERFUL" childhood. Love always, Kevin.
It has been almost 12 years. I live in another state and I have never contacted them since.
- LOL, Love your story, R208. My father was like yours. Fortunately, I had a great mom. I still talk to my mom, my dad can go fuck himself. Glad you made it. You sound like a good guy. Best wishes!
- There was this hot guy, Sam, and his wife who lived in the commune my Dad started in our house back in 1972. Sam was about 26, looked like a model, and knew it. He and I worked building redwood decks on suburban houses. He worked shirtless. That's how he got jobs. The housewives loved him. I was close to his wife. We'd go to gay bars in New York. I was 20. One night, I took my sister to a gay bar out in the Hamptons and that was how I came out at the communal breakfast table the next morning.
"Are you gay, son?"
"I guess so."
"Far Out," he said.
"Far Out," said my sister.
"Far Out," said Sam's wife.
"I knew it about you the first time I saw you."
It was Sam! I was pissed! He was supposed to be an enlightened, spiritual, new age hippie!
After that, I'd torture Sam every chance I got.
"I had a dream about you last night Sam," I'd say when it was just the two of us in the car. I'd see his grip tighten on the wheel. "You wanna know what happened?"
He'd get pissed and yell at me. "Look, I don't care what you are or what you do, I just don't want to know about it, okay!"
I still think he was a big closet case.
I looked them up last year. They're still together and have found Jesus...conservative churchgoing people. I wrote to her, the woman who used to go dancing with me at Tambourine, and she suggested I stop in at the NY branch of her congregation to learn about the love of God.
- r196, WHATEVER
The tigster just trying to be helpful
- I was 18 when I came out. I was so scared because I had fallen in love with a guy in my senior class and while he wasn't receptive to my feelings he was kind enough to keep me as a friend.
It was a good first step out of the closet and while it took a while I was able to find my way and start to live my life. So when I decided to tell my parents I figured the best way was to just say it. They've been good parents and we're not close but we have a ok relationship but I still really wasn't sure how they'd react.
I didn't really know when I was going to tell them and it turned out I just blurted it out when I was over having dinner. I was as surprised to say it as they were to hear it.
So I think I just asked how they felt about it, I don't really remember. What I do remember very clearly is my mom grabbed my dad's hand and I could tell she was digging her nails into his skin. I actually thought she was going to break the skin.
They looked at each other for god I don't know how long, it seemed like forever. Then they looked at me for a second or two and man that kitchen was quiet.
Finally my mom cleared her throat and sipped some water and you know what she said?
"Is that all? Thank God, we thought you were going to say you were Tig Notaro!"
- I was much more upset with my parents were, that I would never have the life I envisioned. My father recommended that I watch Annie Hall
- R175 / R195 You give the gay community a bad name. Also, please learn how to spell. It's *caffeine* with two f's you piece of shit!
- IMO, everyone's experience / timeline with coming "out" is different. I'd imagine some people never leave the closet as well @ R175. Getting mad at each other here doesn't accomplish anything though @ R214
- I came out when I was 22. It was a disaster for many reasons. First, and foremost, I was married. A girl I dated in high school got pregnant. We used condoms, but apparently not correctly or we just a had bad one.
I never loved my wife. She never loved me. We tried to make it work after the baby, but we were miserable. I had always suspected I was gay. I never acted on it -because of Catholic guilt- until a male co-worker seduced me after a party, three years into my marriage. We started an affair. My wife found out about it and left me and filed for divorce.
The next day, a weekend, my mother called me. My wife had called her with a "crazy story". I drove over and didn't know what I was going to tell them. I sat on their sofa and we were talking about the problems in my marriage and my devoted Catholic father said: "Your wife told your mom that she left you because you're a fucking queer! That's just her being crazy again, right?" Mom said, "If it's any consolation, we don't believe it. We know you're not one of those sickos."
I blew up, I yelled, "I'm not a fucking sicko, I think am gay, not a fucking queer! I'm trying to figure out what I am!" My parents were quiet for a moment and then my father said, "You are sick. Homosexuality is a mental disease. They are dirty people. They rape children. They are diseased. You need to get help." My mother said something like, "You used to be such a good boy. What happened to you? You are a monster! We won't accept this. Ever. Just go!"
I left. I tried to call them over the years to see if they changed their tune, but they would hang up on me. In the course of a few days, I lost my wife, my child, my parents, my siblings. It was a terrible time. I was so depressed. After the divorce, I moved to another state and started over. I was in years of therapy to rid myself of a lifetime of Catholic guilt and the rejection of my family.
14 years later I am happy. I married my partner -of 8 years- two years ago. We have two beautiful children.
Juan R., Happy at Last
- 2005 I was 19
Mother: "Oh, is that all? I knew that already. People talk in a small town, you know. I thought you were going to tell me you were a drug addict or that you were in trouble with the law. Whew!"
Father: Took it lying down. He died before I was born.
- r216 What a nightmare. I'm so sorry. The happy ending is very nice to hear though.
I'm curious what year this happened and if it was during a time when gay men couldn't get a fair shot in visitation. Have you seen of heard from your first child or and of your siblings?
- Do you know Ellen?
Mom turned her back and walked away.
- R218 Thank you. This all happened in late 1998. It wasn't that long ago, but I still got screwed in the divorce, because of my infidelity (and my lifestyle had something to do with it, I'm sure). My ex-wife did everything in her power to exclude me from seeing my son. Less than four months after our divorce was final, she married a guy in the military (I suspected she was seeing him before we split up. I could never prove it.)and they soon were stationed in Germany. My heart cries for my child. I pray that someday I can build a relationship with him. Thank you, once again.
- Long story. I'll try to keep it as short as I can.
I did not come out to my parents. In October of 1983, I was outed. I was 18, attending college and living in an apartment with some friends across town from my parents. I was quiet about my lifestyle. I had grown up in an ultra-conservative household (to put it lightly), where gays were not tolerated.
When I was growing up, my parents would watch the evening news and go ballistic when a story about gays came on. If a Gay Pride Parade was shown (and the news always showed the most 'extreme' people), my parents, in disgust, would exclaim, "Good Lord! Look at that queer son of a bitch. He's dressed as a nun!", "Look at that one! He's wearing a damn tutu", "They shot that Harvey Milk. Good, I'm glad somebody did. He was destroying our country!", "Anita Bryant is a good woman, the liberal media is vilifying her!", "Those perverts had AIDS coming to them! Sick bastards!" I was not allowed to watch "Soap", "Three's Company" or any show they deemed to be "liberal brainwashing queer shows." I watched those shows anyway, in my bedroom with the volume down.
On the one hand, my parents were very kind and caring to people, especially those outside the family. On the other, they thought being gay was worse than being a rapist or murderer. They equated it with child molestation, and assumed that all gays were pedophiles. That's what I grew up hearing. Needless to say, by my teens I had a lot of self-doubt, low self-esteem, and was deeply hurting in secrecy with no one to turn to.
Fast forward to 1983 and the events that corresponded with my outing. One evening, My roommates and I went to a local gay club, like usual. We were having a great evening. I stepped outside with my boyfriend, so he could smoke a cigarette. We kissed a few times outside the club and thought nothing of it. We went back in and had a great night.
A couple of days later, I attended my sweet cousin Jill's wedding (I'm still very close to her). My mother, father and sisters were icy-cold to me. I had no idea why. Only my older brother was speaking to me. I asked him what was up. He said, "we'll talk about it later." After the wedding, my brother took me for a drive. He told me that my coked-out sister, Elaine, was out partying with friends and saw me outside the bar kissing Nathaniel. I was sick to my stomach. My brother dropped me off at my car.
I drove from the church to my parent's house and faced up to them. They, and my sisters, were venomous toward me. My father refused to look at me or speak to me. Mother told me to either get my shit together and re-evalute my life choices or I was not welcome in the family. My sister yelled and said, "I don't want your disgusting lifestyle flaunted in front of my children, either. Stay the fuck away from them!" I said, "God forbid they have a gay uncle. I guess it's bad enough they have a coked-out slut of a mother that can't keep her legs closed, and they'll never know who their fathers are! I guess life is hard enough for them without having me around." The last words I said to them were the words, "Fuck every one of you in the fucking heart! If you fucking have one!"
I drove away from their house and never returned. I have never spoken with them since. My brother was similarly ostracized because he married a Hispanic girl in the mid-80s (my parents were horrible racists too). My brother is long-divorced, but he still avoids the family like the plague. He and I are very similar (except for our sexual orientations) and are very close. Like several on this thread, I sought psychiatric help to deal with the depression, rejection and pain. My close circle of friends are my family now. Along with my dear, loving brother, Shawn, they are all the family I need.
- Mom: "I suppose this means that we're going to have to redecorate."
- "Well, don't scare the horses!" - Mom's way of saying OK, but keep it to yourself...
- R222 I am fighting back tears after reading your story. It parallels mine in so many ways. I was outed to my parents by a family friend who saw me holding hands with a guy downtown one night in 2002. I was lucky that it was only my father and sister who were the conservative bigots. Mom is, and always has been, a staunch liberal. My dad reacted to TV news about gays exactly as yours did.
I was confronted before a Sunday dinner at my parents house - luckily, I was already living on my own, or I would have been homeless after that. Amazing, all the bigotry and hatred that can come from people who had just come from Sunday church services.
My father slapped me and pushed me against the wall. He called me horrible names. He yelled that I had been a 'sissified pussy-boy' all my life and now I was even more of an embarrassment. Mom tried to pull him off me. My sister spouted bible verses at me. He kept slamming me against the wall until my brother ran downstairs and pulled him off me. My father yelled for me to get out of his house and never come back.
I left with a bloody mouth and tears flowing. I went back to my dorm and cried. My dorm-mate consoled me. In the evening, my mother and brother came to see me. They told me they would always have my back. They have. Two years later, in 2004, my father died of a massive stroke, at the age of 46. I never liked, much less loved, him. I attended the funeral only to support my mom. My brother had no use for the man, either.
I am still estranged from my sister. I see her at holidays at my mother's house, but we do not speak at all...not one word. I love watching her scowl and wrinkle her snooty nose up while my partner and I cuddle and kiss on mom's couch, with the full approval of my mother and brother.
- Anything can happen when people spell the name "Sean" S-H-A-W-N, R222.
- [quote]I was lucky that it was only my father and sister who were the conservative bigots. Mom is, and always has been, a staunch liberal. My dad reacted to TV news about gays exactly as yours did.
How did your parents manage to stay married?
- I took my mother to a gay bar and restaurant that attracts a sizable straight clientele, and she saw gay people and straight people interacting naturally and felt comfortable with it. I said, "Mom, you've always said you want to know the truth rather than live in a fool's paradise. Do you really mean that?"
She said, "If you have something to tell me, if have something that's a heavy burden and you really need to share it, that's OK, I can handle it. But," she said with a little smile, "if it's all the same to you, dear, I'd rather not know."
This told me she knew exactly what I was about to say, and it was OK, but it gave her plausible deniability with our ultra-religious relatives. I would rather have had her be part of my whole life, and I never shied away from talking about gay rights issues or telling her I went to the gay rights march on Washington, but as I wasn't in a relationship with anyone, I had nothing that demanded a further conversation. I let her have what she needed, knowing that she knew the truth deep down.
- R227 I have never discussed that with her. I know she did love him and there must have been something that kept her with him. He could be quite charming to her when he wasn't spouting racial and anti-gay hatespeech. He treated her well most of the time (at times he could be a demeaning ass to her). He wasn't always that conservative. He was never a liberal, but he was one of the millions that were brainwashed by Fox-News in the 1990's. He watched that channel sometimes 5 hours a day (10 or 12 hours on the weekends).
Another thing I have never discussed with my mother, and never will, is how how happy and radiant she seems in the eight and a half years since my father passed. She carries herself in such a different way. So peaceful and happy. I doubt she will ever remarry. I take great joy in seeing her so tranquil.
- this thread.
- [quote] this thread.
Just click the star beside the thread title.
- R140 I grew up in the same Catholic/Mexican-American culture as you. My mother was the same as yours. An ignorant, superstitious old woman. She was mean, loud and could be vicious like a cobra. My father was a gentle, quiet man who worked hard for us kids, but spent a lot of time away from home at the neighborhood cafe playing dominoes with his friends.
As a little boy I was a bit of a queen (still am I guess) and my mother always slapped my hand and pushed my hands to my side when I was talking with my hands. She would hold them at my sides and tell me not to act like a "maricon".
When I was in my early twenties someone told her I was living with another man and doing drag shows. I was living with a man, but I never did drag shows. She beat me on my face and neck and ran me out of the house. She threw Bible verses and church teachings at me and called me possessed by the devil. She told me to stay away and never go back. My father was outside working on this truck, as usual. He asked me what was wrong with Mama this time. I just drove away crying.
A bit later, I was on the sofa depressed and watching TV. There was a knock at the door. It was my father. He had a six-pack of beer in his hand. He hugged me and we sat down and watched the baseball game, at first in silence. He made a few excuses for Mama. Saying she was not a very smart woman and could be very mean. I asked Papa why he stayed with Mama because she was so mean? He said, "She cooks my meals. She washes my clothes. The bible says divorce is wrong, so what can I do?"
We drank another beer. I said, "Papa, Mama says the Bible says you must cast me away too, so why are you here with me?" In Spanish, he said, "Because my Son, I love my children. No book on this Earth, even the Holy Book, can make me turn away from you. If I go to hell for that, let it be."
My father came to my home every Thursday night for the next ten years to play dominoes with my partner and me. He succumbed to cancer in 1984.
- Wow R222, touching story.
[quote]In Spanish, he said, "Because my Son, I love my children. No book on this Earth, even the Holy Book, can make me turn away from you. If I go to hell for that, let it be."
I think this explains why gay rights is overcoming such vitriolic hatred from organized religion. You can't make someone hate their own child.
- At the beginning of 10th Grade, in 1982, a new guy checked into school. His name was Troy. He sat next to me in two of my classes and I was completely enamored with him. We got along great and became friends quickly. My heart pumped so fast and I could hardly breathe every time we talked. To my surprise, he lived on the next block over.
One evening, I went to a Judas Priest concert with my cousins. Walking through the arena, someone called my name. It was Troy. We hung out together at the show and had the best time I had ever had. He asked me to spend the night at his house that night. I called my parents and they said okay. They were glad I was making friends. I had so few.
We watched part of a movie on HBO in his room. We sat very close. I don't know how it happened, but we ended up wrestling, and then kissing passionately. We were both virgins before that night. After that night, we could never say that again. We began a passionate affair.
One night my parents took my Sister, Troy and me out for pizza. Troy and I could not keep our eyes off each other. Troy excused himself from the table to go to the bathroom. I watched him walk across the restaurant. Through the corner of my eye, I saw my mom watching me. Mom leaned over, patted my knee and whispered, "Sweetheart, I'm so glad you found someone. Your father and I are so happy to see you glowing. You've seemed so happy since you and Troy got together".
I defensively said, "Mom, you make it sound like we're dating or something." She just smiled and said, "It's alright, baby. It doesn't matter to us. We're glad to see you happy. We have been worried about your being depressed so much." The look on her face said she approved. My dad smiled at me. Try re-joined us and we had another one of the greatest evenings of my life.
Years after this, my dad admitted to me that when he and my mom realized Troy and I were more than friends that it upset him at first. He and mom had known I was probably gay, years before Troy came along, but my relationship with Troy slammed the reality home. Mom convinced him that Troy was good for me. They had been so concerned about my secluding myself from having friends and my sadness. In the many years since, my parents and sister have always been there for me. I love them more than words can say.
- r234 that is a beautiful story but what ever happened to Troy????
- [quote] what ever happened to Troy?
He sleeps with the fishes
- R234 Oh, my God, dude. I'm dying here from suspense (I know, MARY!). What happened to Troy? It's the soap opera queen in me, I have to know!
- R235, 236, 237 - I'm sorry. Didn't mean to leave you hanging. I didn't realize I forgot to include that part.
Troy and I remained "siamese twins" for the next two years. During that time, my confidence grew and we developed a close-knit circle of friends (Other gays and lesbians, mostly. A few straight girls). Six weeks before graduation in 1985, Troy's family moved back to Texas, where they were from. I was heart-broken, but I had my friends for support.
After Troy had moved back to Texas, we wrote each other all the time. As time marched on the letters became less frequent. Eventually, they stopped. I thought about him often.
I attended a local college right out of high school and got a job. I met another guy in 1987 and we were together for 15 great years, plus two terrible ones.
In 2004 or 2005, I was curious about Troy. I googled his name and found a MySpace page for him. His photo showed him to be sexier than ever. I read his entertaining posts and stalked his page for a over a year. I saw he was in a relationship and seemed to be very happy. I wanted to contact him, but I was afraid that it would be too tough to hear him talk about his partner. I didn't know about him, but I was still in love with the guy. Eventually, I stopped stalking his page. I was in another relationship that lasted another year.
My Sister called me excitedly in 2008. She exclaimed, "Guess who just friend requested me on Facebook?" I had no idea. She exclaimed, "Your old friend Troy. I just accepted his request and he's dying to talk to you. I gave him your phone number." I almost fell over. I doubted he would ever call. I was beyond nervous. 20 minutes later, I was taking some clothes out of the dryer. The phone rang. I melted when I heard his voice.
Troy was single after a bad breakup. He missed me so much over the years. Two months later, he moved back to St. Louis. We have a house together and I have no doubt that we will be together for the rest of our lives.
My parents are still doing well. Mom is 68, Dad is 69. They are very happy for us.
- oh come on!!!
that's too good to be true!!!
(but somehow i believe you r234.)
- Lordy, this thread is an emotional rollercoaster.
- Mom: "How can you be sure?"
Dad: "What if my business colleagues find out?"
- I think some of the reason my parents took my being gay as well as they did was because I wasn't in a relationship or dating anyone when I still lived with them.
My first real long term relationship (longer than a few weeks or months) didn't happen until a few years ago in my early 30s, so they had time to see that the news wasn't going to change me.
Sadly my mom and sister are gone, but the remaining members of my family love my partner. My mother would have adored him. I have to say, I got the best man out of all of us in my family - sweet, smart, a loving soul, and handsome as hell. I truly lucked out.
- R233, I wish what you stated was true, that parents can't hate their own children. You're lucky you didn't get very emotionally abusive parents. I've known parents that disowned their children just for changing their majors in college, or for dating out of their religion, race, economic status etc. Even those who "accept" their offsprings' choices, may dis them constantly in front of others. Better to get a "divorce" and find "new parents."
- "you can't be queer, you played football.."
- Dad - "Get it out of my house now! Leave"
Mom - 'I'm sorry but your dad has asked that you leave"
- 'I read your letter. It's okay. You're still my son. I love you. Nothing will change that.'
- Wow, 234. I laughed and cried at your story. Thank you for sharing. Congrats. Weird-o-rama, dude. I went to that same Judas Priest concert at the Checkerdome. I went with my older brothers. I wasn't much of a head-banger, but one of the few metal bands I liked was Priest. That was a great show. Iron Maiden and Axe opened, if I remember correctly. Great memory. Hell, I might have stood right next to you and Troy at the concert. LOL. I pulled out my photo album and found the ticket stub for that concert. It was Tuesday, September 14, 1982. Damn, seems like yesterday. Later that night while you and Troy were poppin' each other's cherries, I was no doubt jerkin' off to the pictures with naked dudes in my brother's Hustler magazine with a finger up my butt. LOL.
- Um, where did R234 say he saw Judas Priest at the checkerdome?
- I didn't have to tell my parents -- I got caught when I was 15. I had been having sex with a guy in my class for most of the fall semester and we spent a lot of time together. He was the first relationship. He came to "stay over" on a Friday night when my parents went to the theater. Well you can probably guess. They hated the play, left at intermission, and walked into the house to find the two of us stark naked 69ing on the family room floor. We had been having a romp around the house so we couldn't even cover up fast, our clothes were upstairs. They talked to us later, saying they kinda knew anyway. That night was never discussed after and they have been wonderful ever since.
- [quote]Dad - "Get it out of my house now! Leave"
[quote]Mom - 'I'm sorry but your dad has asked that you leave"
Jeesh. Then what happened?
- I want this thread to go on forever. My coming out was the worst moment of my life. My parents were always nagging, complaining and pushing me. It was a miserable childhood. Nothing I did was ever good enough for them. I was a faker in high school. I could pass for straight, so I played that card. I played sports - not very well - and messed around with my girlfriend - not very well, either. My friends were all homophobic jocks/jerks. I was so stressed out and depressed being closeted.
One day near the end of my senior year, the jock friends were beating up this fem guy and I pulled them off him and told them to leave him alone. He was a sweet kid. I liked him. One friend asked if I was a 'queer' too. I angrily said, "I am queer. So, what! Fuck you. It's none of your business!" My girlfriend was in shock. My "friend" pushed me and the jocks stormed off, calling me names.
My girlfriend asked me why I said that. I yelled at her and said, "Because I am, goddammit!" I walked away. My mother was a teacher and that afternoon word got back to her about the confrontation. She pulled me aside after one of my classes and told me she was embarrassed that I would say such a thing. I told her we'd talk about it at home.
I got home and had a major melt-down. I was tired of lying. I told them what I had dreaded.
My Mother's First Words (to the effect of) - "We raised you better than that. Didn't you pay attention at church? You're going to Hell if you don't straighten up and fly right. Don't you see how they treat the little fag boys at school? Do you want that? Think with your head and not your private parts, for God's sake!"
My Father's First Words (to the effect of) -"You're a fucking tinkerbell? That's the lowest thing a man can be. I'm glad you're almost out of school. You will leave this house right after this year is over. I won't have you corrupting your brother. I need you out of that bedroom (that I shared with my brother). Until you graduate you will sleep in the guest-room."
I was so stressed. I didn't wait till graduation. I moved in with my cousin two days after coming out. My cousin was a great guy (a single, swinging bachelor and ladies man). My parents attended my graduation and put on such an act. They hugged me and gushed over me and said loudly how proud they were of me. It was so fucking fake. Just an act for the other teachers and parents. She whispered in my ear that I had things still at the house and needed to either pick them up or she would throw them away.
I had planned to attend college locally. I changed my mind and went into the Air Force. I was stationed at Kadena Air Base in Okinawa for two years. After my service, I moved back to the States and I have lived a fulfilling and wonderful life since. I am married to a great man and I have no desire to ever return to my hometown or contact my former family members.
Joe in Florida
- R248 He said he saw them in 1982. In the follow-up he mentioned that his friend Troy had moved BACK to St. Louis from Texas and they were living together. That told me that he saw the concert in St. Louis. In September 1982, Priest played at the Checkerdome (which was a huge arena here back in the day) in St. Louis. So, there! You've been educated (lol).
- R252 Your detective skills are amazing, Grasshopper! You nailed it right on the head. That is where we saw the concert. Very good. You get a smiley face for the day.
- R234 and R252. Was that when Priest was touring for "Screaming for Vengeance"? I think that was their album in '82.
- R254 Stevo, yes it was "Screaming for Vengeance"
- I think its damn disgusting that the relgious bible bashers are the most disgusting of the responses, when didn't Jesus himself was a supposed advocate of love. Religion is an evil in disguise.
I commend you all for your strength, no matter if the out come was positive or negative, its strength none the less to come out. And I'm glad I was not brought up religious, but was brought up to treat everyone the way I would want people to treat me.
This thread really is very special.
- Like several of the others on here, I didn't have to come out. I got busted. When I was 15, my parents and brother went to see my little sister compete in some junior high cheerleading thing. They were already concerned about me hanging out with my friend, Danny, because they were pretty sure he was gay. Danny was a terrific guy, but a little flamboyant. I could fly under the radar.
Danny and I had been friends since we were 5 and sexually experimenting since we were 11 or 12. We had moved up to the big leagues and started fucking when we were 15. We were going at it hard and heavy on the bed when my little 9 year old brother, who shared the room, came running in. He saw everything. He screamed and ran for my parents.
We shuffled to get dressed but my parents walked in. They made Danny leave and gave me a good talking to. They thought I was straight, but that I was seduced by gay Danny. I could have let them think that, but I liked Danny too much to let him take the fall. I told them it was mutual and I liked guys. I figured they would be more pissed, but they just asked me to not screw in the house again.
They were a little cold for a few weeks but eventually things were okay. Luckily, my dad had a gay brother and my mom's sister was a lez, so they understood, somewhat. I continued to mess around with Danny. Mostly at his house. His mom was a single mother who worked two jobs and was never home. After our school years, Danny and I went our separate ways and saw other people. We met at five years old in 1971, and we're still good friends today.
- No lesbian coming out stories?
- I have a lesbian friend who told me her mother still won't acknowledge her being gay.
She mentioned a conversation she once had with her mother, and alluding to her being a lesbian her mom stated .."whatever it is you call yourself, whatever it is you say you are.." she said her mom wouldn't even say the word GAY or LESBIAN
- I got busted too. My family went on a camping trip with my parents' best friends, who lived in a neighboring town 40 miles away. They had a son my age (14) and we were totally raging hot for each other. We messed around every time our families visited each other. On this camping trip, we snuck off to a secluded spot and we were jacking each other off and sucking each other's dicks. Our dads caught us. They were furious. We were both whipped with the belt until we almost couldn't walk. We were separated for the rest of the trip. I was grounded and had to stay in the R.V. for the rest of the trip. I officially came out to them when we got home. They were angry and displeased, but they got over it in time. I was their child and they loved me unconditionally. I was never allowed to go with them when they visited the friends, and vice versa. Two years later, I had a car. Guess who I started hooking up with three or four evenings a week, with both sets of parents unaware? LOL. That was 20 years ago, but I still remember it fondly. My parents turned out to be pretty cool.
- There are a couple or so here in this thread I remember reading.
- I love this thread too much. I'd buy the book.
- Busted here, as well. I got busted butt-fucking my cousin, the same age, in the back room in my Grandmother's house on Easter Sunday 1980 when I was 15. One of my Aunts caught us. It was crazy. My Mom was informed and took me to the car, angrily drove me home, and then she returned to the family gathering.
After my parents got home, I was screamed and yelled at in my room. Lord only knows what my younger sisters down the hall were thinking. They thought it was teens experimenting, I told them I had been with other guys and that that's what I liked. (I was just glad they didn't walk in on me getting fucked up the wazoo - lol). I was grounded for a while and not allowed to go anywhere but school.
My parents were unhappy and disappointed but they eventually realized they had to accept who I was, or lose me. I'm glad they chose the former.
- R263 Your cousin? Ewwww, hella nasty. Did you ever date outside the family? Just kidding. LOL.
- Because it's your problem.
- This thread is "Dialing the phone with a pencil" good.
I grew up in a very rural part of Alabama. Luckily my fundie parents sent me to a really good private school. I excelled, and ended up getting a full scholarship to college. My parents were so proud of me.
I got my education from Brown University. I hadn't been there 3 days until I met a guy and we hooked up. I had been having these feelings, but no way to explore them back home. I knew there was no way to bring this up to my parents and extended family back in AL. I visited "Redeckistan" many times to see my folks over the years. Finally they visited me in NYC. My husband was there. I said, In case you don't know (kisses husband) this is my husband, my wife, my everything.
Dad said, We thought you might be a homo years ago, but you didn't have boys over. Mom said, you left Redneckstan so I hoped the speculation about you would die.
I love my mom. For Christmas I gave her this nice Coach bag. The note said, Mom this bag is for if you ever get a clue, you will have something to put it in. It totally went over her head.
- I came out to my parents the summer after I was graduated from secondary school. I had my gay uncle with me for emotional support, along with my sister, whom I had already told. I was sure my mam would be upset because, for years, she was constantly talking about how I was lucky that the girls all loved me and how I would make one of them a good husband one day.
My da said that he had suspected that I was gay and it made not a whit of difference to him. He said I should be careful and that he knew I was a good person and would always do the right thing. My mam gave me a hug and said she knew for years and she loved me, no matter what.
I had always been sure my mam would be upset, even though her favourite brother is gay, because of all the things she had said about how I would settle down with a nice girl one day. A couple of years later, I asked her why, if she knew I was gay, did she keep talking to me about girls. She said that, because I already had a some major problems (learning difficulties, and other things) she didn't want me to have to deal with bullies and bigots on top of them. Her brother had been bullied and beaten by kids from his school - including by his own older brothers.
Mom: "How can you know? You're only 21? We'll see a therapist. You can get on hormone treatments. If I had known this, I would have never had you."
And then she didn't talk to me for months - and we've never been the same since. When I brought my ex to Thanksgiving, she acted like he didn't exist.
Literally talked around his space and never gave him eye contact. Oh, except for when she answered the door - "Don't you have your own family to go to?"
And she wonders why we're not close.
- This thread has been so great to read. If I were still in publishing, I'd want to collect all these stories in an anthology. It would sell.
- Mom: When I came home early and caught you making creme brulee.
- I don't want to derail the thread with my story because it engenders a lot of criticism, but I did finally come out in my late forties. My parents were gone but I finally did to my sister who was like a second mother, and everyone else.
My sister was disappointed because of my divorce but was supportive. My partner and I went to visit her and her husband (huge homophobe) and it went extremely well.
- Dad: Am I supposed to call you "Miss Thing" now?
- I wonder if those of you who were fucking dudes in your parents' house were subconciously trying to get outed. That's just a ballsy move.
- R273 I don't know. When you're a teenager or a young man you just aren't thinking about all the possibilities.
It's all: Hmm. Dick? Yes!
I did things when I was in high school and college that astonish me now. I had a bedroom in the basement of my parents' house, and once I brought a guy I'd met in town back there.
I mean....today I think about that and am thankful we didn't get killed, etc. That was just a dumb move by a dumb, horny young man. But I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking this hot guy reminded me of Ewen McGregor and I wanted to see him naked.
- ANd you did?
- r234, are you a member of the Datalounge facebook group?
- R276 Yes, I did. Turned out he was the member of the VFD a few towns over. He had a nice cock, and great body....but a total two pump chump.
- MOM: The year you told me you wanted an EZ Bake oven and a tanning bed.
- Posted earlier that my Mom's first words we're "Good! No more grandkids...". That was 1986. But now I remember that her first statement was actually "I didn't know," which she said rather apologetically.
I had "sleep-overs" through my senior year in high school, and a lock on my door. Girls were not allowed in my room -- not that I ever needed to test that rule. I got excellent grades and stayed out of trouble, so they were happy with me.
Did not come out to her until I was 24, had settled down with a boyfriend, and tested HIV negative in the mid-80's. I don't remember what my Dad said, but he wasted no time in making anal sex jokes at the Thanksgiving dinner table.
My parents were ultra-liberal. I miss them. My parents, especially my father, would be violently pissed off and horrified at some of the parents described on this thread.
- "Fix mother a martini, straight up with a twist."
- From the age of six, my best friend had been Traci, a girl who lived three doors down. We played together for years. She was my entire social life. I knew I was different. Boys at school picked on me and avoided me like the plague. One night, when I was 15, my entire life changed forever, in a matter of minutes.
I was alone in my bedroom with the door closed at around 8pm. I was listening to music and reading a book (science fiction, I’m sure). I heard voices coming from the living room. It sounded like we had company. I kept reading. After a time, there was a knock on my bedroom door. My father, who was usually quite even-tempered, opened the door angrily said, “You get in the living room, right now!” I was puzzled. I was a well-behaved kid. What could I have done?
As I entered the living room, I saw my friend Traci’s parents glaring at me from the love seat. I said hello and they just stared me down. My dad grabbed my arm and said, “What exactly have you and Traci been doing after school?” I answered, “Uh, we study, we listen to music. Sometimes we go see a movie. We go to the game room…”. “What else?,” my father asked. “Nothing too exciting”, I replied. My dad was growing more impatient and said, “Traci’s pregnant! How do you explain that?”
I was beyond shocked! Traci and I told each other everything. She never told me she was seeing anyone. Who had gotten her pregnant? It sure as hell wasn’t me. I denied ever being intimate with Traci. At one point, I had my father, my mother, and Traci’s parents all screaming at me and accusing at the same time. It had to be me. I was the only boy she hung out with. My frustration was at a breaking point and I screamed, “I never touched her like that. I don’t even like girls! I AM GAY!!! I AM FUCKING GAY!!!! I ran out of the living room, through the kitchen and out the back door. I ran and just kept running.
I wanted to be alone so I hid in a culvert behind the youth center a few blocks away. I sat there for probably two hours crying. I wanted to die. I saw flood lights shining on the street from passing police cars. I assumed they were looking for me, so I stayed low and kept hiding. I was lying there for a while and I heard a small voice calling my name loudly. I recognized the crying voice. It was my little six year old sister. What was she doing out at this hour? I raised my head up and saw a flashlight in the distance, then I heard my dad’s voice calling me. I noticed my little sister walking along side him holding his hand. Under the youth center lights, I saw the worry on her face and saw her crying. She kept calling my name and it broke my heart. She was so sweet. I couldn’t bear to see her upset. I stood up and came out of hiding.
My father shook his head and sighed. My sister jumped into my arms and I carried her home. My dad and I said not a word. When we got home, my mom took my sister to her room, and they sat me down to talk. I figured they were going to disown me. I was so used to rejection from people. They apologized for accusing me of getting Traci pregnant. They believed me. My mom said, “Baby, if you are gay, it’s okay. You’re our child, and you and your little sister are everything in the world to us. You’re such a good boy, I’m sorry we made you so upset. We love you so much.” My father, a man of few words, just hugged me and whispered in my ear, “I love you, son.” I cried.
It turned out that Traci had been sneaking around with a boy in the neighborhood and had never told me about it. She ended up having her baby and dropping out of school. She and I drifted apart after her baby came. After coming out, I made a couple of gay friends at school. I had known these boys for years, and knew they were probably gay, but I had avoided them because I was so closeted, and they were rather obviously gay. I had some great times in the following years. So much fun.
- Touching story, R282. At first glance, I thought "that's wordy", I don't know if I'm up for reading it. I'm glad I did. Thanx for sharing.
- Father: I don't need to know this.
Mother: I'm going to be sick. AND I love you regardless of anything. AND Your father doesn't need to know this.
- My apologies to the person who was complaining earlier in the thread about all the '70s and '80s stories on here. Mine was an '80s story. 1985, to be exact. I knew I was gay from an early age, but I didn't come out to my parents until I was 18 and out of the house, just in case they took it badly.
I dated a girl from 8th grade through my freshman year of high school. It was serious, but the first couple of years were innocent, just kissing and petting. In 9th grade, we had sex four times. That's when I knew that girls were not for me. I achieved an erection and was able to penetrate, but I felt no attraction toward her body. The fourth time we did it, I inserted and I pumped and pumped for it seemed like ages. I never got close to orgasm. I finally faked it and pulled the rubber off and threw it in the bushes.
I broke up with her the next day. She thought it was because I didn't respect her anymore, that was far from the case. I didn't want to lead her on any further. I cared for her deeply, I just had no physical attraction toward her (and she was very pretty). I told her the truth about my preferences. I knew I was attracted to other guys. I had to fight getting an erection in the locker room. I'd had only one same-sex encounter and I fucking saw the face of God, it was so intense. I knew I was gay. No doubt in my mind.
My first semester of college, I drove to my parents house one evening to have dinner and watch a movie they had rented. After the movie, I just said it, "I am gay." My parents blew up. My father shouted, "Why are you telling us this? Why do you feel the need to share this with us? Why couldn't you just keep that shit to yourself? I never want to discuss this again. I'm going to bed!" He stormed out of the room.
My mother pretty much shared the same sentiments. Though she didn't leave the room. We sat on the sofa for a while. She silently wept and I stared at the hard wood floor. I said, "Maybe I should go. I have class in the morning." We hugged, but I could feel her disappointment.
I didn't contact them for a few days. I wanted to give them time. On Saturday morning, my mom called and invited me over for lunch. My dad sat at the table, speaking very little. When he did, it was about the weather or current events. Mom was more cordial. There was something lingering behind her eyes, but she was making an effort.
As the weeks and months went by, they came to terms with my being gay. They weren't happy about it, but it was either accept me or push me away. Fast forward to 1989, I began seeing my partner. My parents were nice to him, but I knew it was uncomfortable for them. After a year or so, they grew to love my partner. He and my dad had many common interests and could talk for hours about astronomy or deep sea diving.
My parents treated him exactly as they did my sister's husbands and my brother's wife. He was a part of the family. My parents are gone now. Mom died in 2006 and Dad two years later (I know he died of a broken heart). My partner and I are still together. In February, we celebrated our 24th Anniversary.
- In 1988, I was 23 and living in the big city, 150 miles from the small town where I had grown up, and where my parents still lived. I had a job and was living it up as a young gay man. When I was growing up, there had been whispers around school and the conservative little town that I was gay. I knew that my parents had heard the rumors. I was not extremely queeny, but I had just enough "gay mannerisms" to fed the rumor mill. I dated a few girls, but it was just me trying to figure out who I was.
One weekend when I was visiting my parents, they asked the usual question, "So, do you have a girlfriend yet?" I had never really lied about the question. I usually just answered with, "No, I'm just playing the field and having a good time." I was never gender-specific. This time, I had to tell them. They were visibly disappointed, but did not say anything nasty or hurtful. They asked how long I had known, I said, "Always." They admitted that they had wondered if I was at times.
Over my next few visits, my dad seemed to be off running errands a lot. Mom was kind, but distant. Over the years they were back to their old selves around me. I knew they were still disappointed in my being gay, but they were always good to me and, even though I was older, I was still their little boy.
- My coming out was an emotional hellride. In 1990, I was 27. I had been seeing a particular guy for a while. We broke up. A few months later, he came to my apartment and told me he had just tested positive for HIV. We had always practiced safer sex, but one night, our second time, the condom had broken. He pulled out immediately, but, after his disclosure, I was terrified that I could have been infected.
I worried, knowing that I needed to get tested. I was a basket case. I was sure I was going to die a horrible death. To say I was terrified was a massive understatement. Everytime I started to go get a test, I freaked out, and didn't go. I wanted to know... but I didn't. I finally got tested 7 months later. I tested positive. I fell apart.
I went to my parents, supported by my life-long best friend, Jimmy. I had to come out AND tell them I was dying. It was a horribly emotional evening. They took the coming out part okay. Very disappointed in me, but that wave of emotion subsided when I told them I was likely dying from AIDS. There was a lot of crying and hugging. My mother was a wreck. My father suggested that I get a second test, just to make sure it wasn't a false positive.
My parents, my sister and my friend Jimmy went with me to be tested. They were also with me when I got my results back. NEGATIVE! I went back and made them test me three more times, just to make sure. After the HIV/AIDS scare, my parents were just glad I was going to live. They didn't give a crap about the being gay thing after that.
- I got pregnant by my boyfriend, a 22 year old auto mechanic, when I was a senior in high school. We quickly got married so no one would know I got pregnant out of wedlock. My husband drank a lot, was abusive, and ran around with other women, even before my beautiful baby boy, Justin, was born.
Even though he beat me regularly, I stayed with him for 5 years. One night after he beat me, I left him for good. We divorced. I raised Justin alone and I worked hard to provide for him. I had always had feelings for other women, but when Justin was in high school, I fell in love with Pam, a woman I worked with. I had never felt so complete as I did when she and I were together. I hid the relationship from Justin because I didn't know how to tell him about it.
My father had died when I was 15, but my mother was my lifeline during my abusive marriage. I went to her and told her that I was a lesbian and that I was in love with Pam. Mom hugged me and said, "Honey, if I had been married to that sorry son of a bitch you married, I would have turned into a lesbian too." She cried, but accepted me unconditionally.
One evening, my 16 year old Justin came to me and said he needed to talk to me. I sat down and he said, "Mom, I need to tell you this, I'm gay." At that point, I hugged him and cried, and said, "Baby, so am I." He was shocked, but we laughed, we cried, and since that evening, we've been closer than ever.
Pam and I have been together for nine years. Justin has been with his partner for five.
- Mom and Dad: Just don't tell your grandmother.
- As a teen, I was never really in the closet. I was always very flamboyant and I always openly dated guys. I was a goth and so were my friends in the early '90s. I never actually came out because I thought it was so OBVIOUS that I was gay that it went without saying. I stood out like a sore thumb, even in my hometown of Chicago. I was "that weird, tall, flamboyant goth boy."
One day my grandmother was visiting, and she was sitting in the den with my parents. I was heading out to go somewhere with my friends. I stopped, said hello and hugged her. We made small talk and she asked me if I was going out to meet my girlfriend.
I said, "No, Granny, I'm as gay as the day."
My mom gasped in shock. She jumped up and breathlessly exclaimed, "Devon, what did you just say?" I looked at her like she was crazy and said, "Mom. How could you possibly have thought I was straight? I'm always talking about guys and I'm the biggest queen this side of Buckingham Palace!"
I thought she was going to faint. My dad, standing in the kitchen doorway said to my mom, "Jesus Christ, Sharon. You really had no clue? My God, I've known since he was 5 years old. No offense, Devon, but I did." I smiled.
Mother remained in shock for the rest of the day, but in time got over it. LOL! How she couldn't have known is beyond me. Everyone else knew, except for her and Granny.
- My two older brothers came out of the closet shortly before I did. I was nervous how my father would react to the last of his sons being gay too. I just went for it.
ME: Dad, I'm gay!
DAD: Fuck! Doesn't anybody in this family like pussy???
SISTER: I do!
Just fuckin' with ya
- LOL R291. I heard that joke years ago but forgot about it. Thanks for the laugh, mate. Rock 'n' Roll, dude!
- R290 My experience was similar. I had never come right out and said it, but I thought it was obvious to everybody. Everyone at school knew, but my parents flipped out. They were shocked beyond belief. I guess that sometimes our parents turn the blinders on and don't see what everyone else does. They love us and don't want to acknowledge that we are different.
My brother and my sisters had figured it out years before and were okay with it. I couldn't believe they had never discussed it with my parents before.
My parents were upset for a while, but they got over it. Maybe they are secretly disappointed in me, but they no longer show it if they are. I thank my parents for never saying anything awful or ugly to me. I also thank them for loving me so much that they WERE able to turn the blinders on when everyone else knew off the bat about me.
- Mom: "I need a joint."
Dad: "Will you give me a good blow job? About time I get one."
- I was so obvious that my parents knew about me from an early age. My father was always a little distant because of it. He loved me, provided for me, supported me in my activities and was very nice to me, but there was a slight distance between us which didn't exist between he and my brothers. My mom was always really involved with me, fun and very cool. A great lady.
It was no surprise to them when I came out at 15. Dad just sat there and said, "Well, whatever floats your boat, son. I wish you weren't, but I guess it's something we'll just have to deal with." Mom hugged me and admitted that she "knew all along". Years later, things are still the same as they always were. I think I'm rather lucky.
- I love reading all the positive stories. They are very heartwarming. My coming out to my parents was horrible and we were estranged for years because of it.
Eventually, they reached out to me and made amends. Forgiveness took a long time on my part, but at least they began to make an effort. Now, they not only accept me, but my partner as well. It was a long hard road.
I LOVE these stories! Some made me laugh, and some made me cry ( Yeah, yeah, big fat ! MARY! )
What IS important is the strides and progress we have made over the last decade or so. DADT has been repealed and SSM is legal in several states. The "It Gets Better" campaign is helping our young gays & lesbians accept themselves and be proud of who they are.
- Stories like this need to be anthologized and published.
- When I was 17, I got caught in the act. It wasn't pretty. My childhood best friend and I were inseparable and we hung out with these two fun lipstick lesbians from school. My parents, and a lot of other people, made the assumption that they were our girlfriends, even thought Scott and I were far from being butch.
One night, I came home and my mom noticed a hickey under my collar. She was worried that I was having sex and explained that I needed to be really cautious and not "get that girl pregnant. We're not paying for the abortion. You'll have to get a job and get out!" The next weekend, Scott and I took the girls out cruising in my car. We cruised the main drag and then wandered out of town. I had noticed a set of headlights behind me on the highway, but thought nothing of it.I pulled off the main highway and drove to our usual secluded spot.
The girls stayed in the back seat and made out. Scott and I took my sleeping bag up into the trees and we tore each other's clothes off. We were going at it hot and heavy, and I had just entered Scott when my dad and mom walked up on us. They went apeshit. They had been concerned that I was banging one of the girls and they followed us to make put a stop to me getting her preggers. Boy, were they in for a mother fuckin' surprise!
They screamed and yelled. My dad called us "AIDS-ridden faggots" and told me to drop my friends off at home and to get my ass home. They grounded me and took my car away. I told them that's who I always was and that's the way I would always be. I was sent to my room and told that I was forbidden to see Scott again. I was devastated, he was my best friend. My only true friend.
Mom and Dad were cold to me for the rest of my senior year, which, thankfully, was only 5 or 6 weeks. After graduation, my parents asked me to leave the house. Scott's parents were far more accepting than mine and I moved in with them for the summer. They loved me to death. Scott and I got an apartment together in the fall.
I gave up trying to reconnect with my parents years ago. They were so convinced that being gay was the worst and most immoral thing a person could be (yes, worse than murder, even), and were convinced that my being gay was a 'choice' and regarded it as an act of rebellion on my part. Like a big middle-finger toward their personal and religious beliefs.
I love the fact that my parents disowned me over 'immorality'. When I was younger, my dad and mom both caught each other having affairs. My dad had many affairs. He had been convicted of white collar embezzling ($30,000) when I was about 9 years old. He spent two years in prison. Yes sir, my parents were real bastions of morality. Fuck them right up their hypocritical assholes!
I am much better off without them. Scott and I have been partners since 1992. I have friends, but he is all the family I need.
- What happened to the girls, R300?
- I am really enjoying this thread.
Many were lucky enough to have loving and accepting families.
It is heartening to see the patience and forgiveness some gay kids were able to have for their families, eventually coming together.
Others were able to go on without their families despite awful treatment and have good lives. Living well is the best response, survive and thrive.
- I don't really know what happened to them, R301. Within a year or two of graduation, we lost contact. For some reason they kind of pulled away from us a bit after that night. We hung out a few more times, but our friendship faded, unfortunately. I didn't bother with my 20-year class reunion last year, so I don't know if I would have reconnected with them there or not. That's life. People come into your life, and people go away. Sad but true.
- R300 Your parents deserve to have you never speak to them again. Or die. And you should not go to their funerals.
- r300 is clearly not on Facebook or he would have reconnected with the lesbians therein.
- R304 I will never speak to them again. The last conversation we had was enough to keep me away for all eternity. I wouldn't attend their funerals, even to dance on their graves.
R305 No, I've never done the Facebook thing. I have about 4 or 5 true friends that I see all the time. Other than my significant other, I am kind of a 'keep to myself' kind of guy.
- My father looked at me and said "Well you didn't get it from me." !!! My mother just sighed and said nothing. I said something along the lines of I wasn't so sure I thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world but you gotta' play the hand you're dealt. Then my mother hugged and kissed me and said "I love you." Dad said "ok" and shook my hand. That was it. They seemed more upset I wanted to change my concentration at school! Later on when I was elected a class marshal they
decided I probably wouldn't be subject to a life of public stonings. Now I ask them not of their sex life nor they mine. Things are very cool now.
- [quote]Many were lucky enough to have loving and accepting families.
This is just my opinion, but I think time and distance has put a lot of these parents into a better light than they may deserve.
- My coming out was both good and bad. My Dad was always very laid back and took everything in stride. Not a predjudiced bone in his body. I swear, the man never worried about anything and always kept a big smile on his face. My Mom was the polar opposite, naggy, cranky, selfish, and a hypocritical Bible-thumper. I was never close to her.
They divorced when I was 14. I loved the weekends I stayed at Dad's. Home with Mom was always filled with drama and misery. At 18, I was still nervous coming out to Dad. He hugged me and said it was cool. Whatever made me happy. He said he had wondered. He loved me and that was that. We sat and watched "Lethal Weapon" on HBO.
Mom took it exactly as I thought she would. Screaming and pointing fingers. It was all about "embarrassing her, embarrassing the family, etc.). I dropped it on her and left her house ASAP! I was no fool, I told her after I had moved out. LOL.
Dad and I are still close. I rarely see Mom (family events like funerals, weddings, etc). When I do, she hugs me and speaks, but it's very limited.
- I'm on my lunch break reading these and WOW! I am laughing and crying at the same time. Thank you all for sharing these personal stories. This is my favorite thread ever on DL. Keep it comin', loves! To all of you, I admire your strength and perseverence. You're beautiful.
- Your sister sounds awful but cool story, r38. Then again,it reads like it didn't really happen. *strokes chin* Did it?
- Ummmm...some of these sound a bit implausible. And what's with the people signing their first names to posts? No regular DLer does that.
- That's a typical teenage girl circa 1980, R311.
- I met my first boyfriend Martin in 10th grade -- we were in a couple of classes together, including a boys-oriented cooking class called Chef's Workshop. We met in September and by June we were a couple. My parents thought something was up between us -- he was a little high strung/flamboyant, and they told me to "sever the relationship" although I insisted nothing was happening. They even offered me counseling, which I politely declined.
Five years later, my parents were divorced and Martin was in my past. I was living with my mother for a while, and one morning she asked me from the other room, "Michael, are you bi?"
(I'd had girlfriends over the years, but they were more for companionship and friendship.) I answered, "Yes, who's asking?" And she said, "Well, don't tell your father."
A few years after that, I started to work for my father. I'd been in a relationship with Danny for 18 months at that point, and I didn't want to work with my father every day without him knowing the truth. My sisters (who knew but I can't remember telling them!) told me not to bother him with it, he already knew, etc., but I wanted him to hear it from me.
So before I began work, I went to his office and said, "Dad, there's something I want you to know...Danny and I are more than friends, and I expect to spend the rest of my life with him." He was cool about it, and said that I shouldn't mix my personal life with my professional life, but otherwise he was calm and loving.
He's gone ten years now , but he grew to love Danny as another son-in-law. (And Dan and I just hit the 30-year mark.)
- R308 you may be right. I still admire the people who were able to make some bridge to their families. I don't doubt the "child" was the better individual.
- I was "outed" by my mother. I'm the youngest of 4 children, and brothers and sister would typically bring their current boyfriend / girlfriend / wife / husband / whore to holiday dinners like Thanksgiving or Christmas.
One year, maybe 7 or 8 years ago, my mother casually said "you're welcome to bring a guest also, if there is someone special in your life." I laughed and said something like "yeah, that would go over just great. I wouldn't subject anyone I cared about to that." Our holiday meals are brutal. Lots of verbal jousting and teasing, and if there is a new comer, telling of embarrassing childhood stories about the brother / sister ("remember when you cried when you though we abandoned you at the swim club" or "I dressed you as a boy until you were 4 because I didn't want a girl" or "we almost left you at Disneyworld" etc).
It hasn't been an issue, it doesn't come up really. I am very independent, live out of state and see them on holidays. Once in a while a gay topic will come up (like the Boyscouts) and colorful comments ensue, but it is all in good fun.
- In some cases, it's the dads who were more understanding. It was in my case. My mother was very upset. It wasn't just the "no grandkids" revelation. And it had nothing to do with religion. She was just plain old homophobic. I remember thinking "she shouldn't be surprised because she's the one who took me to a child psychologist after she caught me putting her makeup on in the bathroom mirror."
- R311 Yes, it really happened LOL. My sister could be a pain in the butt back then, but she grew up to be a great girl. My family has always been very cool ('cept her, but like I said, she grew out of it)
- Wanna go to a show?
Hell, I don't know.
- Hell! I feel worse after reading this and seeing all of the supportive parents. I thought most people gays and lesbians were like me... banished to the Island of Misfit Toys right after coming out. Actually, I'm glad for those of you who had good parents. I also feel for those of you/us that didn't.
- I came out to my dad in 1984, when I was 18-right after high school. Mom died of cancer while I was in high school. I knew Dad was a good man and wasn't homophobic at all.
I told him one evening. He became visibly upset (watery-eyed and nearly crying, not angry) and was taking it far worse than I ever imagined. I said, 'Dad, I thought you would take it better than this.' He said, 'I'm not upset that you're gay. I am just worried about this AIDS thing. The CDC still doesn't know that much about it. I'm just worried that you could get it. I don't want to lose you like that.'
I promised him that I was being careful. Shit, I was celebate at the time. I first heard of AIDS about a year earlier and I was terrified. I cut casual sex out completely and promised myself not to mess around with anyone outside of a relationship (I still live by that creedo). I told him I would use precautions if I did get involved with anyone.
He hugged me and asked me if my brother knew. My brother was a little conservative. I had not told him. My dad said, 'Let's take him fishing. We'll have him in the boat and we'll toss him in the lake if he acts like a jerk.'
My brother actually ended up being very cool about it (he's not a bigot, so that helped). My dad and yes, even my republican, moderately conservative brother have attended quite a few pride parades with my friends and me.
- Pops: "Me too"
Mom: Didn't say anything, but she fainted.
- R321 here. I meant to say I was 'celibate' at the time, not 'celebate'. Please don't call the spelling police on me. LOL.
- Mom was so funny and full of joy. Still, I took my friend, David, with me when I same out for support. When I came out to my mom, she just giggled and said, "Oh, Brian! I've known that for about two years!"
I said, "How, Mom? Who told you?"
She said, "Sweetie, I found a stack of the most disgusting gay porno magazines in your room a couple of years ago when I was cleaning. I almost had a stroke! I left them where they were and didn't say anything, but I knew right then. You've been out to me for two years and didn't even know it!" We all just laughed.
It couldn't have gone smoother. My mom was a card! I miss her!
- Your mom was the best, Brian R324. I'm sorry she's gone.
- R299, that's a beautiful story. My straight brothers were fine with me and my gay brother too. One is conservative, and I'd like to hit him over the head at times for his political views, but he's not homophobic.
- Mom: what to you think we should do with the living room curtains?
Dad: do you swallow?
- R325 She really was. I miss her so much, but all I have to do to feel better is close my eyes and remember her. My memories of her are so vivid. In my memories I can still hear her voice and her beautiful, roaring laugh. Thank you for your kind words.
- I've always found it strange that sometimes family members can have blinders on and not see what is oh so right in their face.
My parents are divorced, and the summer after freshman year of college, I came out to my father first while visiting him that summer. I was more nervous telling my father because his older brother was gay, even though he was married and had kids before coming out. My uncle had died from a heart attack when I was in my early teens. His partner at the time of his death showed up to my Grandparents 50th wedding anniversary. My father's family were cold to him, and couldn't believe he had the nerve to show up to this of all things. I didn't understand at the time what all was going down, I was probably 14/15 at the time. This all compounded to my fear of telling my father of my sexuality.
When I sat down to tell my father, I had lost the nerves I had gathered, and started crying and asking if he loved me. When he told me he loved me no matter what, that's when I told him. He was silent, from the inital shock, but then asked if I was sure. I said yes, he then asked if I had ever been w/a girl before. I said no, to which he asked how I could possibly know then. He then tried to explain what it is like to be w/a woman, which made me beg him to stop as I knew he would use his experiences w/my own mother to try and explain. We ended on a good note, he said thought I was too young and stupid to know for sure, but we dropped the subject at that point. He did ask if he wanted me to tell my mother, I told him no, I would when I got back home.
I lost my nerves at that point after telling my father and then friends, who basically told me they would pray for me and that was the last I heard from them. I didn't tell my mother for 11 years. When I told her, via phone, as I was then living w/my boyfriend at that point, she was silent, and didn't really react. I told her that she kinda had to know, but she never said anything. I ended the phone call, and she didn't talk to me for over a week. I called daily, two or three times, but she wouldn't take my phone calls. I clued my sister into what was transpiring, and she tried to reach out to my mother, but eventually my sister said it was b/t me and mom, and stayed out of it. My mother eventually talked to me, and said she had just been too busy to talk, but I know she was just processing the information.
What I find odd, is I lived w/my mother off an on for years, during high-school of course, and after. I never dated anyone or talked of dating, so to me that's why I couldn't believe she didn't wonder, or suspect. My sister was the same way, when I told her I was gay, she said she was shocked. I asked her if she knew, or suspected it, she said she never really thought about it as it didn't concern her. I guess we always want it to be easier and have parents and family members suspect things like this, but we can really never know.
- I think dads know early on if their son is gay or not. Sort of a sixth sense. Some Mothers tend to bury their heads in the sand and not want to deal with conflict, etc. so they just hope the harsh truth will go unrevealed to keep the peace.
- My experience was much like most of my gay and lesbian friends. In most cases, the parents were angry, confused, shocked, sad and/or depressed, and most needed time to get their thoughts together. Eventually they came to terms with the issue. They may not have been ecstatic to have a gay child, but they realized that it's better to have them in their lives than to stand by antiquated principles and lose them forever.
I have two children and there is NO force on this planet (or any other!) that could ever make me disown them or send them packing. Any parent who permanently cuts off their child must be a sociopath. How can anyone cut off their own child? It's beyond belief.
- R331, I guess you've never met parents that never told their kids that they loved them, or threatened to cut them off entirely if they even dated someone of a different religion, leastwise anything else deemed "not acceptable."
- I came from a large family. I was the second youngest. I came out of the closet when I was 19, after a small scandal (long story). I was disowned by my deeply homophobic, Catholic parents forever.
My oldest brother, who was grown and on his own before I was born, was arrested numerous times in his teens/early 20s for stealing cars and dealing weed, coke and heroin. When I was two years old, he was sentenced to life in prison without chance of parole for stabbing his underage girlfriend to death. The murder was gruesome. He stabbed her multiple times and sliced her throat. He sat on the floor and watched her bleed to death. A vicious animal.
Every other weekend during my childhood, my parents made the pilgrimage upstate to see the worthless, murdering son of a bitch. They spoke of him in glowing terms. I came out as homosexual and was sent out of their home and their lives forever. I was dead to them. It never made sense to me.
- My parents had a rough time with my coming out as gay. I think they knew from the time I was very young but they were in a state of denial. The religious beliefs instilled upon them in their youth was the culprit. They eventually warmed up to me again. Things were never quite the same but they were good to me.
My straight brother and sister were/are my greatest allies. Never once did their loyalty to me waiver. Never once have they given me shit about being gay. I'm just their brother. No biggie! My brother and I do everything together. We've always been best buddies.
- [quote]It never made sense to me.
It's the next-to-next-to-last word in your first paragraph, R333. Mine were the same way, minus the brother part.
- Anyone here in publishing interested in taking this project on? I like the very short pieces--2-3 sentences--juxtaposed with the longer stories, each getting a separate page. Perhaps no bylines but a list of contributors. Would appeal to a number of markets, obviously gift and gay lines, would definitely have a place with high school and college audiences in syllabi. Hardcover and beautifully designed. Suggested titles?
- For the title one of the one liner answers such as r144 's
Sweetie, Helen Keller Knows You're Gay
- ^ I like "A Lot of People Are, I Guess."
- Dad: "So, son, I've always wondered what it feels like to get fisted ... and Father's Day is coming up!"
- Sorry @ R326, I meant to compliment R321 on his story. This site was screwy for awhile!
- Heh, heh. BPC's numbering error led me to see that I made a bad grammatical error at R299. "Stories like these..."
- My father died when I was 12. I never came out to my mother. I was a late child in a large family and felt she'd been through enough in life and would never come to grips with this. She died a few years ago. We had a tense relationship. Call me a coward. I still think I did the right thing.
- My parents were extremely cruel, bigoted and anti-gay. I grew up hearing venomous comments all through my childhood like, "Damn queers should be shot on sight", "Perverted fags are destroying this nation", "If I ever had a queer kid, I'd take them to the river and drown them".
They had no idea that the deep, deep self-esteem problems I had as a child and teen were due to their asinine comments about those "filthy queers". To them, gays were the worst of humanity. I felt like the worst of humanity growing up. I felt so depressed and so ugly inside. I felt like a monster.
In school, there was a boy in my class that was less than masculine. When my parents would pick me up from school activities, they would make comments like, "If that boy isn't queer, he missed his calling!" or "Look at him prancing. If I was his father I would beat the 'sissy' out of him." I would roll my eyes in disgust. He was a nice boy. I liked him.
My parents were not religious. They were just bigots. They were cruel to us children in other ways. No one in our household ever said the simple words "I love you" to each other. I spent my teens wanting to jump out my bedroom window and run away. I stayed and graduated from H.S.
I had been accepted to college in a far away state. Before they drove me to the bus station, I left a letter on their nightstand. I told them everything: Why I had no self-esteem, why I felt unloved, why I did not love them, and I told them I was gay. I also told them that I would never be back.
I never called them. I never visited. I have never been back to the city I grew up in. I guess they read my letter, because they never called me the entire time I was at the university. Not even on my birthday, which was fine with me. I have not seen or spoken to them since June 3rd of 1978. They may still be alive, they may be dead. I do not know. I live across the country from where I grew up. I spent most of my 20s in therapy. It helped tremendously. I now love myself and I have a great life. As a child, I could never have imagined either.
- I posted on this thread, but my story was nothing compared to so many of you guys. I want to give a standing ovation to all of you who overcame tough childhoods and unaccepting parents. Good job, guys. Seriously, I have a lot of respect and admiration for those of you who refused to let your family's bigotry control the outcome of your life.
- I came home for Christmas Break my second year of college. When I walked in the front door of my parents house, they hugged me, smiled and made a fuss, but something was different in the way they interacted with me. We made conversation and laughed but I could just tell something was going on with them.
That evening my brother dropped by my parents house. We all sat around and talked. He suggested that the two of us go to the local watering hole and get a beer. I jumped at it. I knew if something was going on, he would know. We drank a couple of beers and I just flat out asked him, "Dude, what's going on with Mom and Dad? They're acting weird toward me."
My brother had this "Oh, shit!" look on his face. He hesitated and began to tell me what had happened. My mother was a nurse at the small local hospital. A girl I had gone to high school with had gone to work as a receptionist in the area my mom worked in. They were friendly and Mom realized the girl had been my classmate. They began to tell stories about me.
At one point, the girl said to my Mom, "Jean, I was in so love with Darren for two years. He was so funny and sweet and cute. I was so crushed when he told me he was gay." My Mom almost needed a defibilator. The girl didn't mean to out me and assumed Mom knew. Mom went home and told Dad. FUCK!!! They knew.
My brother was a little surprised that I was gay, but one of his best friends was gay, so he accepted me right off. He's just an easy going guy. He asked if I wanted him to go along with me to talk to Mom and Dad. I told him no. I could handle it.
I confirmed to my parents what they had heard. They said they loved me and it didn't change anything. They still seemed different though. Disappointed, I guess. As years passed, they became more at ease. It just took a while for it to sink it that I wasn't going to change. They love me and have always treated me well. I commend them for accepting me, if not 100% approving of me.
- This is poster R345 again. Sorry, Grammar Troll, I do know how to spell defibrilator. I just somehow skipped a letter. Oops!
- Mother said: Why have you chosen this lifestyle? It's not natural. Sex is for procreation and two men cannot make a baby. God made a man and a woman. God made sex for the creation of babies. Nothing else is acceptable.
Father said: You're setting yourself up for a life of despair. Gay men are a festering stew of sexually transmitted diseases, they play with excrement, their life expectancy is 30 years less than that of a heterosexual man. They have more mental illness, they have more substance abuse problems, and they cannot maintain relationships because their "love" is not natural.
The funny thing is that 18 years later, I have three children with my partner. Two are biologically mine. I am happier than most hetero men I know. I have never had an S.T.D., I am monogamous, I have never "played with excrement", I rarely drink and have never used drugs, I do not have mental illness and I have been with my partner for 16 years. Sorry, mom and dad. You were wrong on all counts.
My parents didn't write me off, but I rarely see them. Their snide remarks and verbal jabs keep me away.
- Tragedy and beauty wrapped up in this thread.
- R343, Just wanted to send hugs&kisses. Did you have siblings? Were they treated any better? Some "parents" are just "sperm donors" and "incubators" and truly mentally ill haters.
- [quote]"Because my Son, I love my children. No book on this Earth, even the Holy Book, can make me turn away from you. If I go to hell for that, let it be."
Porque m'ijo, amo a mis hijos. Ningun libro en este mundo, ni siquiera la Sagrada Biblia, me va a hacer darte la espalda. Si voy al infierno, asi sea.
Just as moving in Spanish
- What about AIDS oh my god, you like bums and willys. Then my older brother got me some good gay porn mags
- R349: Yes, I had an older sister and brother. When the three of us were very young, we were as close as we could be under the circumstances. By the time I left home, they were both in deep trouble and heading for serious trouble. In my opinion, my parents had no business ever having children.
My sister was three years older than me. She was a good child and was very pretty, but she had a lot of problems from an early age. She skipped school, smoked pot, did a lot of coke, drank heavily, was promiscuous, and got pregnant at 16 and was dumped. She miscarried, but soon hooked with another druggie loser and moved in with him. The last time I saw her was at my graduation ceremony. She was drunk off her ass and staggering. It was quite embarrassing.
My brother was a year older. We were pretty close in our childhood, but by our teens he was into drugs and getting into trouble. I hated his doper friends and he and I drifted apart rather quickly. He was on his way down a slippery slope the last time I saw him. I had my self-esteem issues, but I never got into drugs or criminal activity. I figured that I had enough problems without adding to them.
I did love my siblings and I hope their lives got better, but I sincerely doubt it. I've never tried to look them up for fear of what I might find. I'm not optimistic about how their futures turned out. Like I said, they both had serious issues. Unfortunately, I am sure their situations did not improve.
- R343 I'm curious what state you're in/region of the country.
Not for any particular reason...other than this sounds a lot like the kinds of families around where I grew up (blue collar PA).
- OCTOBER 1987 - I was 22.
Mother had a meltdown. She cried and wondered aloud where she had failed and how I could have made such a choice. My father shook his head and said nothing. He looked very disappointed and continued to watch his movie on TV. Even though they were not cruel to me, they still made me feel sad and depressed. I drove back to my apartment and sat in the dark alone for hours.
I did not call them for a few weeks. They did not call me. Then one weekend my mother called me out of the blue to go by their house that evening for grilled steaks. She sounded chipper and upbeat. In a moment alone, my mother told me that my two older brothers (whom I had always been close to) went to their house one night and told them they were being jerks and that they needed to get over it and accept who I was or push me away and damage our relationship forever.
Mom at least pretended that she was okay with it. Dad took a little more time. In time, things were back to normal. They even grew to like my partner and began to invite him to family functions. I know it was difficult for them, but I commend them for loving me enough to bite the bullet and keep me in their lives.
- R 343 You are a great success and I admire you so much for creating a good life.
- Amen, r355. There are a lot of amazing stories and some heroes and heroines in this thread.
- R234 I love your story. There are quite a few similarities to mine. My parents were concerned because of my isolation and loneliness as an early teen. To most people it was obvious that I was gay. In the Summer of 1979, when I was 15, a new boy moved in on the block. He was cute, quiet and shy. We became friends quickly. We were looking at porn magazines in his room one day and ended up messing around. We fell in love.
My parents noticed the difference in me immediately. I went from being quiet and reserved to smiling and glowing. At first, they thought it was because I finally had a friend. Then my mom noticed the looks we were giving one another. She also noticed how close we sat together on the sofa when watching TV.
One day were we in the garage. We kissed, and my mom opened the door. We jerked apart and I know we looked very suspicious. She smiled nervously, said nothing, and walked back into the house. I hoped she hadn't seen what we were doing, but I figured she probably had.
She never said anything about it. I did notice that one afternoon she made a point to talk about the gay guy she worked with and what a great guy he was. She raved about how much she liked him. I wondered if she was trying to tell me (without actually telling me) that it was okay. A few days later, I told her. She hugged me and was glad I was finally happy.
Dad was more conservative. I told him much later. He actually handled it much better than I thought. He never said, but I think he already knew. They were always very supportive of me. My first boyfriend and I dated until a year after high school. We had a big fight over something stupid and broke up. He was a great guy and came along just when I needed him. I hope I was as important to him as he was to me.
Chad in Houston, TX
- This thread is one of the best here in years. Beautiful stories, many of them hilarious and some heart breaking. Big hugs to those who haven't been so lucky.
- R358 I full-heartedly agree with you. This thread can go on for the next 30 years and I will happily read it several times a day. It's so nice to see us all on here getting along and supporting each other instead of slinging insults. This subject is common ground for most of us. Like you said, "Carry on....."
- Yes, r359. As long as we avoid politics and religion.
- Gotta agree! Love this thread!
- My brother-in-law ended up being my biggest ally. He's from a town of 600 in NC. He is a great man. I sometimes wonder if my sister deserves him.
- This is my favorite so far:
[quote]MOM - "I'm so happy that you've finally said something! This is going to kill your father. I can't wait! (laughed wickedly)"
Congratulations on the great life you made for yourself.
It is still pretty surprising to me that you didn't at least try to find out how your two siblings made out in life.
- R364 Thank you. Just based on the way they were back then (hard drugs, theft, jail, etc.), I would be heartbroken to find them if they had not gotten off the wrong path. I have been on Facebook for almost five years. Just the fact that neither has tried to contact me sends out some bad signals that their lives may not have turned out too great. If one or both of them tried to contact me I would respond. To be honest, I did do searches on Facebook for them. Nothing came up.
Another reason I have not sought my siblings out is because if the parents are still alive, I do not want contact with them (even second hand). Another thing, this may sound bad, but with no contact with people from that part of my past, it's easier to keep it in the back of my mind and not dwell on it. Thank you, once again.
- Like some of the others on this thread, I was sort of a loner as a teen. I had a couple of friends but I was closeted, shy and insecure. I was 15 in the fall of 1979 when I met Keith at the game room. He was two years older and totally hot. I sensed he was gay too. He was so sweet, personable and funny. And those eyes! And that body! And that ass! Mmmmm.
We started hanging out after school. I remember those weekend nights cruising in his '76 Datsun pickup with the music cranking (Usually one of 4 tapes - Led Zeppelin's "In Through The Out Door", The Knack's "Get The Knack", E.L.O.'s "Discovery" and Supertramp's "Breakfast In America". Those albums are still very special to me to this day). We had the best times of my life.
I fell in love with Keith so deeply. He was all I could think about. I started coming out to my friends and acquaintances at school. It was so liberating. At dinner one night, without planning to do so ahead of time, I just blurted it out to my somewhat liberal parents and my then pain-in-the-ass brother.
My mom said she had entertained the thought that I could be, but she hadn't wanted to ask me. She was a little sad, but okay with it. My dad was quite stern and said that I was probably confused and that they would pay for counseling for me. He was a bit stand-offish for a good while, but gradually got over it. I never went to counseling.
My brother was the one that treated me like shit at the time. He told me that I was an embarrassment to him, that I was sick, and that I needed to keep the fuck away from him. He was 17. It was hurtful. After that, sometimes he treated me okay and other times he was an ass. In our adulthood, we are very, very close. He's my best friend.
As for my first love Keith, we broke up in mid-1981. I caught him cheating on me and I was devastated. He had done it a few times before and I finally said "No more!". He was going off to college anyway. I never saw him again, but I received sweet birthday cards from him in 1982, 1983 and 1984, which I treasure to this day. After that, I never heard from him again.
In the late 1990s, I was surfing the internet and searched for him, just for shits and giggles. I found his obituary. He had died in 1993 (I suspected and later confirmed it was from AIDS). He was so special to me in those crazy days of the past and really helped me come out of my shell and become the person I am today.
As I type this, I am listening to his favorite song when we first met, "All My Love" by Led Zeppelin. I can still hear him singing it to me and I still have to fight back the tears every time I hear it.
Thinkin' 'bout the past tonight
- For Keith, with 'all my love'...
All My Love by Led Zeppelin (1979)
Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light
To chase a feather in the wind
Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight
There moves a thread that has no end.
For many hours and days that pass ever soon
the tides have caused the flame to dim
At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom
Is this to end or just begin?
All of my love, all of my love, All of my love to you. (repeat)
The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again
One voice is clear above the din
Proud Aryan one word, my will to sustain
For me, the cloth once more to spin
Yours is the cloth, mine is the hand that sews time
his is the force that lies within
Ours is the fire, all the warmth we can find
He is a feather in the wind
- R366 Love your story. Sorry about Keith. Oddly, I was going through my coming out process around the same time as you. Those albums you listed also took me back to that year. Those plus Abba's "Voulez Vous", AC/DC's "Highway To Hell", Bee Gees' "Spirits Having Flown" and Blondie's "Eat To The Beat" and you had my '79 faves as well. LOL. Good times (for the most part).
My parents were divorced. I came out to my mom in April of 1979. I had just turned 17. I was pretty obviously gay anyway, very few were fainting from disbelief with my revelation. She wasn't surprised either. She was a good woman. A great sense of humor and she just laughed and said she already knew.
In the summer, I went to Seattle to stay 3 weeks with my dad. I told him after the first week. He called me every horrible name you can imagine. He called the airline, bought me a ticket back to Houston and sent me on my way. Before I got on the plane, he told me that I died the minute I told him I was gay.
He warned me to never try to contact him again. I did not. He was always a bastard and we always had a strained relationship. I think he was pretty sure I was gay, but waited until I made it official to disown me. Whatever.
Anyway, I got back to Houston and spent the rest of the summer partying with my gay friends and living it up. The support of my mom and my friends made it all work out just fine.
Tim from Houston
- Not in ANY way an emotional person but R366's post got me teary eyed.
- One good thing comes out of coming out. That one thing is that you find out who has your back in this life, and more importantly, who doesn't.
As a kid, my life was so fucked up. I had no friends, I knew I was different, my parents were divorced, in 1994 my mom remarried and my stepdad was a terrible person. I was desperately lonely. I cried myself to sleep most nights. My real dad and I were pretty close but I was ripped away from him and forced to live in a hellhole with my mom and that monster.
I always thought my mom was one of two people who had my back (the other being my dad). She seemed O.K. with me coming out at first. Then she seemed to be bitter and nasty towards me all of a sudden. It got worse when she told her husband. He made my life a living hell. Especially when she wasn't home. One day he passed me in the hallway and shoved me as hard as he could into the wall, for no reason! One day she sat me down and told me I needed to move back with my father. Her husband didn't want me and she couldn't defy him. She needed to let me go. She loved him. I was her fucking SON! What the fuck about me? The hurt was unbearable.
I was glad to move in with my dad, but I never forgave her for choosing that fat, drunken, bigoted, homophobic cunt over me. That hurt me more than anything else ever could. My own mother shitting on me like that. After two years of living in that shithole, I moved back in with dad. He was so glad to have me back. Mom had told him I was gay. I'm sure he was disappointed, but he never let me see it.
My dad is a great man and always made me feel welcome in his home. He loved me and I knew it. My mom disappointed me a few more times before I wrote her off forever. She is the reason I have such trust issues with people. Besides my one close friend, Jay, my dad is the only one who never let me down in this world.
- My coming out went pretty much as I expected. Both parents flipped out. They had no idea I was gay. I was just about to leave for the Army. I wanted to come out to them the night before I left. That way, if they took it horribly, I could cut and run. I was scared to death so I took my best friend along for support. He had been my friend since 3rd grade.
My mother looked at my friend and screamed, "You did this to him didn't you? You turned him this way!" My friend looked shocked at her accusation and shook his head "no". Poor guy, he was straight. LOL. I think my dad's first words were along the lines of, "You're announcing to the world you are gay, and you're going into the Army tomorrow? The Army won't put up with that shit. They'll send your ass packing! They kick homosexuals out on their asses!"
My parents were pretty shocked and upset, but by the time I got out of basic training they had calmed down somewhat. Years later, they're cool with it. I did my stint in the Army and met a great guy. We've been together for nine years. My old buddy still gives me shit about my parents thinking he corrupted me and turned me to "the dark side", LOL.
- R370 Don't give up on people. Sometimes it seems like everyone is rotten, but there are a lot of good people in the world. You just have to look hard and be careful. You seem like a good a sensitive person.
Just remember, it was your mother with the problem, not you. Just focus on the love your father gave you and forget about her. I believe in karma and I'm sure her chickens have come home to roost, or they someday will. Best wishes!
Someone Who Cares
- Seems like many of you, no matter how lonely, different, or outcast you felt, and many times against pretty grim odds, were at least able to find someone in your early youth whom you loved, with whom you found a haven, or who changed everything, or made it all happen.
Congratulations to those of you who found love early on and did what you had to do to pursue it.
My youth was fairly priviledged - not with money but with good education, achievements, scholarships, liberal upbringing, a loving family and opportunities galore to hook up in a large tropical paradise known for its beautiful men. It was just a matter of proper time management to get it all in (pun intended).
But, probably because of all that and because I was molested by a phys ed teacher at an early age, my sex life consisted of countless anonymous encounters with men of all ages, and easy ways of hooking up without getting caught or having to come up with implausible excuses. Being a good student helped, as my parents never had any reason to question me, doubt me or distrust me.
And guess how long it took me to come out? I didn't tell my mother (my much older father was long dead) until I was 29! She reacted quietly at first.. but then very positively, with all the proper platitudes. I'd say it took a year for all to sink in enough so that then she became very comfortable asking me about the scene, who's gay, who's not, etc.
Then by the second year SHE was doing the reading ("I think Dr. Rodriguez is a big queen"/"I'm almost sure your father had an affair with that Navy buddy who used to come visit when you were a baby"/"Oh please, Carlos may be married but he's gotta be seeing men on the side") I understand this is a fairly common progression of events - shock, incomprehension, acceptance, curiosity, expertise, GAYDAR!.
Also, as a psychologist, she had heard it all by the time I came out and no story - no matter how sordid - would faze her. She's never discussed her patients though, only anonymously labeled case studies.
Why did it take me so long? Probably the "perfect little boy" syndrome. Not about my being gay since that I consider pretty perfect for me(I was out to all my friends, colleagues and acquaintances - hell, to the perfect stranger in the street - since I was in college). But about not wanting my mother to think I was sexually promiscuous, which I was.
I still am.
But I 've come to terms with it. I'm also still HIV negative probably because my sex is so intense, fast, furious, verbal, dramatic and unabashed that it rarely reaches the intercourse stage.
So, again, congratulations to all those of you who were able to find true love. I did in 1991 - and he died in 1992. But, as we say in Spanish, esos son otros veinte pesos ("that's another 20 dollars" - i.e. that's another story)
- Yo, yo ma .... sounds awesome!
- Oops. priviledged >> privileged
- As a teen I knew I was probably gay, but I was deeply closeted. I was so sad and lonely most of the time. I met a girl in 11th grade and we dated through the rest of high school. She was a pretty girl, could be very nice, but also had a bitchy streak a mile wide. There were a lot of gay rumors about me and dating her seemed to make them go away. She and I had sex a few times, but it was never exciting for me.
Right after graduation in 1985, I went to work for my uncle and married my girlfriend. Early into our marriage I wanted out. My wife's bipolar disorder and her moodiness were making me even more miserable than I already was. The sex was very mechanical. We lived in an apartment and a couple around our age moved in next door in early 1986. We all hit it off and became good friends.
I went fishing with my neighbor buddy for the weekend. We were drinking a lot of beer and he ended up giving me a blowjob. I gave him one and we ended up having the hottest sex I could ever imagine. For the next six months, we would tell our girls we were going to the bar or to shoot pool and would end up getting a motel room and fucking each other's brains out. My wife was in one of her funks and we had a horrible fight one night. I told her I wanted a divorce and I left.
Jeff, my neighbor, broke up with his girlfriend and we moved in together. I had to tell my parents and dreaded it. They were good, sweet people, but they were a little conservative politically. Jeff and I had dinner at their house and mom mentioned, "You seem so much happier than I have ever seen you before." Dad said it was nice to see me smiling and at peace for a change.
I told them that I had never wanted to get married and that I had made a big mistake. I got married to make other people happy, but I made myself miserable in the process. Then I said, "I am happier now, because I now know who I am. I am gay and I will never again pretend to be something I'm not."
Mom and Dad were very quiet for a moment. Then Dad said, "Well, you know. We thought you might be a few years ago, but then you took up with Donna and I figured we must have been wrong." Mom said, "Well, like your dad said, we thought at one time that you might be. Unlike your dad, I thought it even more after you got married. The two of you had no chemistry at all. You seemed so sad. Your dad thought it could be because Donna's mood-disorder may have been causing your sadness, but I knew it was something more."
I told them Jeff and I were seeing each other and were in love. They accepted me for who I was. They accepted Jeff into the family. So did my brothers and sisters. I think they accepted it so readily because they had seen me so sad and withdrawn in my childhood and into my young adulthood. Jeff and I have been together for 27 amazing years now. He has made me happy beyond my wildest dreams.
- R378 - Your story brings a tear to my eye. Mainly because it parallels mine in a few ways. I married right out of high school in 1982. I was miserable too. My story was worse than yours, in that we had two children (a son and a daughter).
My wife and I fought all the time. I spent a lot of time after work out at bars drinking with my buddies from work. One evening we all ended up at one guys house and drank a lot. Everyone left except me and the guy. We had explosive sex and started fucking like rabbits on a regular basis after that.
My wife accused me of having an affair. I denied it. I hated my wife's family. They were always sticking their nose in our business. Her brothers followed my friend and I to a gay club one night and confronted me outside as we were leaving. They called us fags and beat the hell out of us and left us bleeding on the sidewalk. My friend got up, ran to his car, and never spoke to me again.
My wife filed for divorce in 1989 and I got screwed. She called my parents and told them I was a "fairy." My parents sided with her and wrote me out of their lives. They told me I was a worthless son of a bitch and that I should be ashamed of fucking around on my "wonderful wife" and betraying my children. It was unforgivable to them.
I moved to another city a few hundred miles away. The ex tried to keep me away from the kids, but I ended up having a close relationship with both of them. My parents never spoke to me again. They are both dead now. I am still close to my brother, but my sisters hate me because of my "lifestyle choice." I made a great new life for myself in the decades since and I wouldn't change a thing.
- My mother was always an angry, screaming, domineering control freak and my father was always a laid back and take it as it comes kind of guy. When I came out at 19, my mother screamed and threw a horrible tantrum.
Mother: This is unacceptable. You come in here and drop this on us. We are beyond disappointed. You have just destroyed your father and me. This is not God's plan for you. You need to get back to church. You need to look long and hard at what you've become. God can help you fix this mess.
Dad said nothing. I said, "Dad, is there anything you need to say?"
Dad: I love you, son. I'm okay with it.
Mother blew up!
Mother: What you you mean you're okay with it? What the hell is the matter with you? How can you be okay with finding out your son is a godless pervert? What the hell, John?
Mother turned to me and said, "I think you need to leave. I cannot look at you anymore. You disgust me."
I walked out the door. My dad followed me to my car. He hugged me and told me again that he loved me. I drove back home. That night my dad locked himself in his mancave (which he did often to get away from that screeching she-cow)and called me on the phone. We talked for 3+ hours.
That was almost 13 years ago. Dad is still my hero and my best friend. Mother and I never had much of a relationship. I was always just another kid in the house to yell at and take her problems out on. I have only spoken with her two or three times since August of 2000.
My youngest sister graduated from high school in 2002. A few days after she left for college, my dad filed for divorce. He is a much happier man now.
- My parents made a preemptive strike. One evening, probably when I was in college, my parents,a couple of my siblings and I were watching TV. This was probably about 1973 or so. Something came up on the show or the news about children coming out to their parents. My father said that if any of us were gay he didn't want to know. My mother agreed. I remember I thought, all right, you're going to get your wish. I have never come out to my family although I have to friends and some co-workers. I think my brothers and sisters assume I am gay but have never brought up the subject.
- I was away at college (about 200 miles from home) in the mid-1980s. My mother and I had been somewhat close when I was little and my dad and I got along very well, but weren't as close as we could have been. Two weeks before fall break, my mother called me, frantic. She had found my old journal, which I kept hidden in an air conditioning vent above my bedroom door. She had read it.
In the journal, I had talked about guys I had crushes on, sexual experiences with two different guys, and about a hot romance I had with another. I had never volunteered the information that I was gay to my family. If they had asked, I would have been truthful.
She called me a faggot and screamed obscenities at me. She berated me for 10 minutes. She told me my presence at their home for fall break was "not necessary". She said that she and my dad were disgusted with me. She hung up on me. Fall break came and I planned to spend it alone... depressed.
I was getting ready to go get something to eat and to see a movie by myself. As I was walking out the door, I was startled by a man standing in my doorway. It was my dad. He hugged me and said, "Let's go get something to eat."
We sat at the table in the restaurant and he was almost in tears, telling me how he was disappointed that my mother had said he was disgusted with me. He said he was not. He told me that mom had called me while he was away on business and he just found out that she had disowned me. He said loved me and that he had always known that I might be gay. It didn't matter.
My mom always had blinders on. I was slightly femme, never dated girls, and always hung with guys who were, as she called them, "light in the loafers". After dinner, my dad and I went to see the movie "Commando" with Arnold Schwarzenegger. Dad had gotten a hotel room and asked me stay over with him. We spent four days hanging out. He made me feel so special and so loved. We had a blast.
From that time forward, my dad and I have always been closer than ever. My mom later cried and apologized for the horrible things she said. She said she had been blind-sided when she found out I was gay. She would never be happy with my "choice", but she did love me and wanted me in her life. I forgave her. She was a part of my life until she passed away in 2008. We visit my dad and dad comes to visit my partner and I often.
- Mom: We had such high hopes for you.....
- R381 Your story echoes mine. When I was growing up in the '70s my parents always reacted that same way when gays were on TV. When I was 13, my dad said, "You know, if any of my kids turned out 'that way', I would hope and pray that they would keep it to themselves. I would never want to know." Much like yours, my mom said that she agreed.
At 13 (in 1978), I already knew I was gay. No doubt in my mind. I am almost 48 now and I never told them. Like you, I am honest about who I am to everyone except my immediate family. It's just not discussed. My parents spent my 20s and 30s asking me if I had a girlfriend. I would just smile, say no, and change the subject. I wonder if they ever figured it out, or if they thought, "Oh, poor Gary. He doesn't date, he must be so lonely." LOL. My dad will never have to hear me come out, he passed away in 2008.
- We know. As long as you're not driving drunk or late for curfew (I was 16) we're there to help. Sadly, my other gay friends did not have such supporting parents. One of them was kicked out, while the other one was beaten by his father. They had to call the cops to take his dad off. Sad.
- When we were 15, a buddy of mine and I got caught making out by my buddy's little sister. She followed us on her bike to the secluded area where he and I usually bumped uglies. We snuck into an old utility shack and started going at it. We started tearing each others' clothes off and kissing. The sister opened the door and screamed, "I'm telling Mom!" She rode back home and told her parents.
We got dressed and chased her but couldn't catch her, because she had the advantage of being on the bike. My friend ran home to try to stop her. I went off to hang out with my brother like nothing had happened. When my brother and I got home that evening, mom was being really cold (not mean, just silent).
I passed my dad in the hallway and he seemed different too. At dinner, no one was talking. After mom washed the dishes, she and dad called me into the den. They sat me down and told me my friend's mother had called them. I always had a 'devil-may-care' attitude about my sexuality. I admitted to what we had done. They both stated that the experimentation was normal and that it didn't mean that I was gay. I rained on their parade and told them that I indeed was gay. Mom gasped and said, "Well, are you sure? Maybe you're just confused." Dad chimed in and said, "Son, you are very young."
I told them that I knew what I liked.
They were disappointed and were a little distant for a few weeks, but they were never ugly to me. My friend's parents had forbidden him to ever associate with me again. His parents were very religious and put him through hell. He was grounded for the rest of high school and forced into extreme counseling (the Christian kind) and was punished terribly and brutally at the hands of his parents.
His punishment was so extreme that it pushed him deep into the closet forever. The last time we spoke, behind the woodshop at the school, he was crying and told me he loved me, but his parents were making him stay away from me. They warned him he would be sent off to some Christian academy out of state if he was seen with me again. He never spoke to me or made eye contact with me again, even in the hallway at school.
He had always gone to church but he became a Bible-thumping fanatic. I left the small town after high school and built a nice life for myself. Around 1998, about 15 years after graduation, I was back in town visiting my parents one weekend, like I did every couple of months. I went into the corner convenience store and saw a glossy religious pamphlet with a familiar face on the front. It was a picture of the minister of a local church and his family.
The minister was my old friend. He and his chunky wife had a gaggle of adopted kids (all different races) and he and his wife looked so incompatible and staged in the photo. He was such a nice kid. I can't believe what his fanatic parents did to him. He must be miserable. He went from being a voracious power bottom to living a life in the closet. Somehow, I'll bet he slips into truck stops and glory holes to get what he needs. I feel terrible for him. I wish he could have lived the life he wanted all those years ago.
I wish he could have a life like mine. I'll always care for the guy, even though I haven't spoken with him in over 30 years. It's sad what some parents do to their children.
- [quote]Somehow, I'll bet he slips into truck stops and glory holes to get what he needs.
We can only hope so, because the other likely alternatives are much worse:
1) Repressing his sexuality for good and settling in with his incompatible wife with whom he likely does not have sex (adopted his kids), letting out his frustrations on her, his children, and his congregation.
2) Arrested development - having sex with 15 year olds (the last time he was happy) plucked from his congregation, or worse yet, his own adopted family
PRAY for him / THINK OF THE CHILDREN :)
- R387, Wow! That's some story. My parents were religious and raised us in church, but to their credit, they never came close to disowning me. Like you, I was never ashamed of who I was. If asked, I would admit who I was. I never gave a fuck what anyone else thought of me.
I came out at 16 after a "love note" from another guy was found in my shirt pocket by my mom. I think she and dad were already suspicious. They were disappointed and a little depressed for a while. She and dad actually went to counseling to better understand me and my situation. It helped. My dad had a gay brother that he was always close to, so that helped.
That was almost 25 years ago and they never waivered in their support of me. I am grateful for having the parents I do.
- This is such a wonderful thread. Could be a book.
Anyone get a sense of the ratio of good to bad reactions from parents?
I would guess 60-40. What do you think?
- My parents figured out I was gay after they set me up with the daughter of a family friend when I was 15. They had felt bad for me because I never dated and the only people I hung out with were the neighbor girl down the street and my best friend, Russell.
My parents and the girls' parents took us bowling. I was nice to the girl and we got along, but I flipped for her hot and majorly-pinging brother. Most of my attention was on him. I tried to be attentive to the girl, but my heart was pumping furiously every time her brother was near. I could tell he liked me too.
The girl ended up getting a little perturbed with me for not paying more attention to her. I'm sorry, but I couldn't fake it. At one point, the brother and I were sitting a laughing. We kept touching each other. I noticed my Mom looking at us with a puzzled look. I smiled at her and kept flirting with the guy.
About a week later, Mom brought up the previous Friday evening. She talked about the girl a bit and I admitted that she was pretty and sweet, but I just wasn't into her. Mom cleared her throat and said, "Honey, this may be none of my business, and it won't matter either way, but do you think you might like boys instead?" I started to lie, but I just went for it. Mom was so sweet. She cried a little and held me for a while.
Dad was a little more difficult. I didn't have the balls to tell him, so I asked Mom to tell him. He was a little distant with me for a while, but eventually he warmed up and both of my parents have always been very loving. My brother and sister, too. I never got a chance to see that girl's brother again.
23 years later, I have a great boyfriend and we live an awesome, adventure-filled life. He and I both have the full support of our families. That makes it all worth it.
- I came out in September of 1980. I was 15.
I was raised by my dad. My mom was killed in a car accident when I was three years old. My dad was the coolest guy EVER. He was a good looking stud and was quite a hit with the ladies. He had the late-1970's shoulder-length brown hair and porn-stache working too. He drove a car exactly like the one Burt Reynolds drove in "Smokey & The Bandit". The pussies always got wet for that.
He was always happy and smiling (no wonder, he was banging every hot chick in L.A. in the late-'70s, lol). We lived in an apartment (shag carpeting, wood-paneled walls, wicker furniture, the whole nine yards) and always had fun together. I had a lot more freedom than most of my friends.
My dad had lots of close gay friends, so, at 15, I had no fear coming out to him. I told him over steaks one evening. His reaction was hilarious. He smiled really big and turned red from embarrassment. I asked him what was up. He laughed and said, "Stud, I already figured that out a long time ago." I asked how.
He hesitated and got his composure. He said, "Well, every night that your friend Kyle would spend the night, I would hear your bedsprings squeaking and hear you guys moaning. I put two and two together (he laughed)". I remember being a bit embarrassed, but I also wondered how he had heard my bedprings over the din of his constantly squeaking bedsprings (lol).
Dad was always one of a kind. He said that if I wanted to make sure that I wasn't just going through a phase, he would hire me a call-girl, just to make sure. I laughed and said, "Thanks, man, but I am 100% positive that I am gay." It was never an issue at all. Years later, in the '90s, dad finally settled down and got married again. Oh, what a life that man led. We're still best friends.
I thank that man for allowing me to be who I was, without instilling shame and punishment on me for being who I, by nature, was. Thank you, dad!
- R393 Your dad sounds HOT.
- Yeah, r394. TOO hot, I think.
Methinks this is one of those slightly embellished stories for positive dramatic effect.
Reads like porn
- R393 here. My dad was very good looking & quite the ladykiller, R394. R395, that's the way my dad and I talked (we still do, actually). We called each other "stud" and we said "man" a lot. Nothing was embellished, I promise!
- OK then I'll take your word for it because this thread is too beautiful to spoil with doubt and defiance.
My apologies, r393
- R393, Your story warmed my heart. Mainly because your dad reminded me of my favorite uncle (my mom's younger brother). Your description of your dad fit my uncle exactly (except he drove a red Corvette). He was very cool. I can close my eyes and still smell his cologne. He too, was a serious ladies man. I think he spent every other night picking up chicks at the disco. He used to take me to concerts a lot (Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Kiss, Rush, Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, ZZ Top, etc.).
I loved that guy so much. He was everything I wanted to be when I grew up (except for the tappin' pussy part). He was the only family member I came out to back then. He was cool with it. I was devastated when he was killed in a car accident in the late summer of 1982. He was taking one of his girlfriends home at around one in the morning and was t-boned by a drunk driver. His girlfriend escaped without injury, but he was killed instantly. What a life he had though!
Unfortunately, my coming out to my parents sucked big-time. Mom took it okay, but dad threw me out of the house. I moved in with a boyfriend. Mom and I continued to be close. I never re-established a relationship with my father.
- R395/397 - Hey, that's cool, buddy! I fully agree about this thread being special. I have been through an emotional whirlwind reading this one. It's great. I hope this thread goes on forever. Peace out!
- I never understood how a parent could throw an underage child out of the house or stop supporting their child. This is why I have always been fine with kids who are being supported financially by their parents to remain in the closet through college graduation. It's just a crazy risk, especially if you don't know how your parents are going to react. I can't imagine being 16 and begin kicked out. It forces a lot of bad choices.
- My parents took my coming out at 15 quite well. If circumstances had been different, they would probably have gone ballistic. My oldest brother was a druggie and an asshole. He ended up dying of a heroin overdose two days after I graduated from high school.
My sister was a selfish slut, heavily into alcohol and dope. She got knocked up at 15 and ran away with the father (who knows if he actually was?) of her child. My next oldest brother was a pot head and always in trouble with the law.
In the years since, my sister has had 7 or 8 kids (most by different fathers) and bounced from bad man to bad man. My brother was into trouble into his mid-20s but he has grown up and straightened out. He has a wife and three kids and is quite responsible (something I thought I would never see from him).
I was well-behaved, did not drink or use drugs, made good grades and never gave them any headaches. When I came out, they almost sighed relief that that was all. Years later, in a birthday card they sent me, mom and dad wrote me a beautiful letter, thanking me for being such a good kid and the pride and joy of their lives. It touched me deeply.
- I came out in 2011 at the age of 20. My parents had a fucking cow! They were pissed at me for a while and are still trying to get over it. I was always a bit of a rebel and they thought it was just another rebellion.
My mom said, "You really piss me off. There is nothing you won't do just to get under our skin. Every opportunity to upset us, you take!"
My dad said, "This really sucks! Is this for real, or are you just trying to get attention?"
- Weird. I see all these stories from guys who came out in the 1970s and 1980s. I'm 23, and I thought all the guys from that generation were all closet-cases. Were most of the young gays back then in the closet or out? I seem to have conflicting info.
- Of course not ALL those guys were closet-cases.
There have always been adult gays brave enough to be out even 'back in the day' when that was much harder.
- R403 It all depended on the circumstances. I came out in 1979. I was 17. I had a lot of 'gay mannerisms' and one afternoon after a school function (I had been flitting around with my friends and having a good time) my dad flat out asked me, "Danny, are you queer?" I looked at him point blank and said, "Daddy, I am the queerest queer that ever queered!" He just sat there and said, "I thought so. You just don't need to advertise it like you do. Can't you take it down a notch?" I said, "Daddy, I am who I am. I can't change myself. I did not ask to be this way, it's not an act, and I'm sorry it bothers you." He was a little bit of a grouch, but he was always supportive. I had told mom when I was about 12 (which was around 1974-I told her I had a crush on Randolph Mantooth from the TV show "Emergency!" My exact words were, "Dang, that man is sexy beyond all belief"). She wasn't surprised at all. Most of the guys I knew from that era were closeted, but quite a few were out.
- R403 It wasn't unheard of to come out to your family in the 70s, 80s and 90s.
But as far as being very publicly out, that's been more common post 1990 or 1995-ish.
There is no cut and dried formula, though religion, where you lived, and your family all had something to do with the level of "outness" that might happen. As it does now for some folks.
- Well, I told my mother this past September and she wasn't happy with the news. I sent a letter addressed to her and my father along with some literature, but she intercepted it before he could get to it. So he still doesn't know.
She says she still loves me but "doesn't approve of my lifestyle," and asked me all sorts of ignorant ass questions. She finally stopped saying that she was going to pray to have this delivered from me when I finally told her I did the same thing from ages 14 to 24. She just lives in denial as she always does when things are too real for her world.
I know my father has his suspicions. When I lived with them for a couple of years after I left college, he would snoop through my room, and he found some gay porn an he confronted me. I lied my way out of it somehow, but he found a prostitiute to have sex with me. He's a minister for fucks sake, but I was quite accustomed to his hypocracy and bullshit by then. He doesn't really ask me if I'm dating anyone anymore, and I find him to be an ill-tempered ass with power and control issues, so if I don't have a relationship with him after this, I've made my peace with it. I'll be 32 y/o this year, live hundreds of miles away from them, and pretty much live my life on my own terms. It took years of therapy and a suicide attempt to really make me realize that I don't live for them or anyone else, let alone seek their approval.
- R405 You remind me of my dear older brother, Ramiro. Bless his heart, his mannerisms were so that he couldn't have been in the closet even if he had wanted to be. Despite being the target of a lot of ridicule and homophobia, he lived his life to the fullest and always had a big smile on his face.
Ramiro was so good looking, so funny and so kind. Our dad was like yours. On the one hand he was embarrassed by his son's flamboyance, while on the other he loved his son and would have defended him to the death. Many times, dad told him to tone it down, to not be so 'out there.' Ramiro would just smile and say, "I am what I am, Papa."
I was married to a man for 15 years and my dad (along with my mom) was long gone by the time I came out as a lesbian. We lost Ramiro to AIDS in 1984. I named my first son after him. In life, Ramiro was my sweet angel. Up above, he still is.
- My parents found out from a letter from I guy I fell in love with at summer camp when I was 14. We became instant friends and fell in love immediately. He wrote me a passionate letter and I kept it hidden in a hollow space under my bookshelf in my room.
One day my mom was cleaning the room and moved the bookshelf. The letter fell onto the floor. She wondered what was so important in the letter that I would hide it, so she read it. Ouch. The letter was very explicit, not things we HAD done, but things he WANTED to do. My relationship with the boy had been quite innocent, just kissing and touching.
My parents were in the process of a divorce at the time and my dad was back and forth between the house and his new apartment. Mom screamed at me quite a bit. She was very harsh. Later she told me that she was taking her frustrations about the divorce out on me. Dad didn't care one way or the other. He was too busy trying to move out to care if his son was gay. Once he got settled in, he was okay with it.
That was all back in the '90s. They're okay with me now.
- Kill the pigs, acid is groovy
- R410 Go to your room, you little whipper snapper! You think we're all old and smell like moth balls? Let's hear your story!
Your Extreme Elder at 37
- I guess lesbians don't come out. I shared my story, but why aren't there very many fish stories on here?
- r403, I wrote my story at r314. I didn't put in dates because I wanted it to seem more timeless, but I came out to my mother in 1979 and my father in 1984. So, yes, we were out and visible way back when.
- R407 Good for finally coming out. It sounds harsh, but don't hold on to those connections with family if they aren't being supportive. Let them go with love, and if they come around, they come around....but you can focus your energies on YOU, and people who love you.
- Who cares about all you old people and when you came out in the dinosaur days? Who cares if you got your first blowjob while Janice Joplin was screaming at Woodstock or if you gave your first rim job while watching Travolata disco in Saturday Night Fever? No one cares if you took your own virginity with your lava lamp or if you met your current lover at a Gogos concert and you exchanged pet rocks. The past is dead. Forget about it.
Here's a hint - You're old! No one cares. Your stories are not relevant anymore. They are boring to anyone under 28. It's a new day. You have been replaced by a generation more in tune with themselves. Go away!
- Ah, someone had to be a total asshole eventually, and R415, fresh from feeding on a warm colostomy bag, is the one.
- R415 Thank you for being the first asshole on this thread. Something tells me you probably don't have many friends. Re-read your arrogant and ignorant post and maybe you'll see why you're alone. I am 26 and I have thoroughly enjoyed this thread. It is wonderful.
I love reading the stories, no matter if it was 2013 or 1813. The '70s were before my time and I was too young to know much about the '80s, but I find these stories fascinating beyond words. I suppose in school you told your history teacher you didn't want to study WWII or the Vietnam Conflict because it was too old. You're a jerk!
Keep 'Em Coming, My Friends!
- [quote]No one cares if you took your own virginity with your lava lamp or if you met your current lover at a Gogos concert and you exchanged pet rocks
Can't quite decide if he's seriously that hateful or just being funny...because the sentence above, you gotta admit, is pretty funny.
He probably had to google "fads of the 60's 70's and 80's" but it worked
- Something along the lines of : Are you sure , what did I do wrong
- R418 I wondered myself if it wasn't somebody just being silly. I must admit I did laugh at that part. My thought is someone was bored and was being facetious. If not, they are a total cunt! LOL.
- R415 Whether or not you were serious, please learn to spell Ms. Joplin's name. It was JANIS, not Janice!
Old Dyke Who Loved Janis
- god, no kidding, old dyke. i knew how to spell Janis Joplin when i was 8.
- I came out in 1996. I was 16 and it was a horrible experience. I was always close to my parents before. After that...
Mom turned her back on me. She cooked my meals and washed my clothes, but her love for me died that day. She had grown up in a deeply religious household. My grandparents were racists and homophobes. She came by it honestly. She told me that if I didn't get baptized and renounce my sin that she was done with me. God told her in a dream to disown me, she said. Thus, she did.
My dad was the same and let me know every day that he was disgusted with me and my "perverted choice". He moved me out of the room I shared with my brother and into the small guest room downstairs. They forced me to attend church every Sunday morning and evening, plus every Wednesday evening.
When the family went on a trip to Disney World in the summer of '97, just before my senior year. My parents made me stay at my grandmother's house. They said I couldn't go because on the trip because they were afraid I would touch or molest my little brothers. It was sickening!
I had been working a part time job at McDonald's from the time I was 15. I had been saving to buy a car, but instead I moved out of their house. I got an apartment with my older cousin. I finished high school. My parents didn't go to my graduation or even send me a card.
They have since disowned my younger sister (two years younger) because she got pregnant by a black guy. She lost the baby, but was still "tainted goods" to them. Unconditional love? What's that? All that Bible stuff they studied and they turned their backs on two of their kids. Fuck them both forever!
Oh, here's something funny. Three years ago, my father called me out of the blue to tell me that my mother was having surgery because she had breast cancer. I said, "Sir, respectfully, you people wrote me out of your lives 13 years ago. Quite frankly, you are both dead to me. You can both fuck off! Never call me again." I hung up and changed my phone number.
- for real??
- She said that she knew it all along and was surprised that I didn't come out sooner.
- Mom: "OMG, Henry! Our little Bobby takes it up the ass!"
Father: "You don't swallow do you?"
- R423 My thoughts are with you. It's hard to believe that parents can just turn off their love for their child like a fucking light switch. I'm amazed. I can't believe they think that their God expects them to turn their backs on their children! My parents were unhappy that I was gay, but they never disowned me. Over time they got over the anger and disillusionment.
Even more amazing, after writing you off and not speaking to you for 13 years, your dad calls and tells you about your mom? What gall! Your parents sound like whackos. You seem like a good young man. You are definitely better off without them. I hope you have found peace in your life.
- [quote]She cooked my meals and washed my clothes, but her love for me died that day.
Ugh. So sad.
- My coming out was relatively easy. My parents went easy on me because my older cousin had come out a few years before with tragic consequences.
My cousin was five years older. He was a super nice, sweet and sensitive guy. Gorgeous too. A beautiful blond with piercing green eyes. They had lived near us, but a year earlier they moved to Atlanta, Georgia. He came out to my aunt and uncle when he was 17, in 1981. They threw him out of the house with only the clothes on his back. His sister told me years later that his dad had beaten him severely upon being told.
He was not heard from until two weeks later. He was found hanging underneath a railroad bridge on the outskirts of town. He had written a suicide note and killed himself. My parents loved their nephew and were devastated that he had taken his own life. My mom said to us kids that if any of us turned out gay that it was fine with her. Dad agreed. They promised they would never turn their backs on us.
I put that theory to the test 6 years later in 1985, when I was 18. They were true to their word and have always been the same loving parents they always were. As for my aunt and uncle, Hell holds a special place for assholes like them. I hope the wrestle with demons nightly in their dreams for what they did to my beloved cousin.
- R429 Oops! I made a little error. I said, "I put that theory to the test 6 years later in 1985, when I was 18. They were true to their word..."
It should have read, "I put that theory to the test 6 years later in 1987, when I was 18. They were true to their word..."
It was 1987, not 1985, that I came out.
- R414 - Thank you so much for that. It took me forever to realize that my parents aren't always going to approve of every single thing I do and I had to live my life for myself. It helped that I surrounded myself with more supportive friends who accepted me for who I am.
I have a number of straight male friends whom I haven't told yet, because I know it won't end well with a few of them, but we've been growing apart over the years, so I'm more at peace with it now than I was years ago.
I can't stand most of my extended family (particularly my father's side), so I've been keeping my distance from them anyhow. They're bigots and racists to boot, so the less I'm around them and their negative energy, the better I am.
R423 - My heart goes out to you. I hope that you have built a supportive network around you full of people who love you and accept you for who you are rather than what others want you to be. A "family" doesn't always have to be biological. You can create a family of your own if need be. It takes time and energy but it's worth it in the long run and a better alternative than suffering with overbearing people who are toxic to your life.
- "You are to pretty to be a lesbian."
- Mom: Didnt we already have this conversation? Don't tell your father..
Dad: Okey Dokey..just dont tell your mother..
- I come from a very strict mexican family. Growing up I always knew I was gay. My mom used to make comments when she saw two girls together and that pushed me further into the closet. When I was 18 I started a secret relationship with my best friend. The only person who knew was my sister. She has always been very excepting of me.
When the relationship ended I was devastated. One day my mom called me over and said," Can I ask you something?" I told her sure.
She then asked me if my "Best Friend" had been my girlfriend. At that moment I could take the lying about who I was. I started crying and came out to her.She hugged me and told me loved me no matter what. She said she had always known and was just waiting for me to be ready.
I'm glad I have the support of my family.
- "Get out"
- My parents were divorced when I was 9. I lived with my mom, my brother and my three sisters. My dad was living in another state. My childhood best friend, Marty, became more than just a friend as we entered high school.
Three months into our junior year, he dumped me because he liked an older guy and wanted to be with him. In one fell-swoop I lost my best friend and my boyfriend. I was very depressed and lonely after he was gone. One night I was in my room crying. My mom hadn't seen me all evening so she knocked on my door.
She sat on the bed and I let it all out. I told her I was gay. She said, "Baby, I know. It's never been an issue with me. You are my son and that's all that matters." I had been so worried about what her reaction would be and she already knew. I asked her not to say anything to my brother and sisters. She said, "Oh, they already know." All that time I had been hiding and they already knew.
It was a new beginning. I felt a great burden off my shoulders. I went back to school and soon found another guy. I fell head over heels. Marty and I eventually became friends again, but it was never the same after he betrayed my trust. I never took him back romantically.
- I was a closet case until I was 35. My parents were very kind people, they always saw the good in people. I was so deep in the closet and so scared of being found out that after high school I went to college as far away as I could. I missed my parents and brothers dearly, but I couldn't destroy them with the revelation that I was a homosexual.
After I got my degree in 1987, I stayed in Michigan for 13 more years. I had a few gay friends, and for nine years I had a partner. My relationship ended just about the time my job did. Frustrated, I moved back to Texas, to the largest city nearest to my old hometown. One thing I had decided... I was not going to lie to my parents anymore.
One Saturday in 2000, I drove to their home. We made small talk. They could tell I was nervous. They became inquisitive. I just gathered my strength and said, "Mom, Dad, I am gay!" My dad was shocked.
Dad said, "My goodness, son. I never, ever in a million years would have known. I guess it's something you've had time to weigh. I guess you know that it's who you are. It's going to take me a while to get used to this, though."
My mom had worked with quite a few gay men in her career and she hesitantly said, "You know, I think I have always known that. The thought had crossed my mind many times." My dad looked at her, shocked. She had never said anything to him.
I had dinner with them and we talked about old times and occasionally the subject would meander back to the gay thing. As I headed out to my car that night, I was about halfway down the sidewalk when I heard my mom yell to me to wait. She and dad walked toward me and both had tears in their eyes. They both hugged me tight. Mom said, "We just want you to know how much we love you. Your being gay changes nothing. We love you with all our hearts."
It took them a while, maybe even a couple of years, to become totally comfortable with my being gay, but they accepted me and that's the beautiful thing. I have a very special set of parents and I count my lucky stars every night and send thanks. My brothers turned out to be pretty damned special too. I wish I had been able to come out years before. I wouldn't have lost all the years with them that I did while I was hiding in Michigan.
- Several people have mentioned their parents having blinders on. No shit! Back when I was growing up, all of my friends were other gay guys. They were all artsy, intelligent and had some stereotypical mannerisms. They all listened to music like David Bowie, The Ramones, Blondie, The B-52's and Devo. All attributes that I shared. Everyone at school knew we were gay. I assumed my parents knew. I was wrong.
One day during my senior year in November of 1980, I was talking about my friend Scott and an adventure he had at a local dance club. My dad looked up from his newspaper and said, "Isn't that a fag bar, and isn't Scott too young to be going to bars?" I said, "Yes, Scott is gay. He looks older, so he got in, no problem." Dad kind of huffed and went back to reading his paper.
At one point, my dad made a comment about my friends. He said, "You know, because of those swishy friends of yours, people are making assumptions that you are a fag." I'd had enough. I said, "Dad, I am swishy too, and the people making assumptions are correct, I am a 'fag', just like my friends. Have you heard this expression 'Birds of a feather flock together'? Well, we're flocking!!!".
My mother almost knocked her glass of tea over. I couldn't believe they were so shocked. Mom said, "I don't think you really are. I think those friends of yours have influenced your thinking. They're nice boys, but I think they are pulling you into their world." I assured her I was, indeed, gay. Dad was pissed. He warned me not to "flaunt it to the world" and to keep it to myself. He got up and went to watch TV.
They were cold to me for a while, but slowly warmed up. Mom first, dad took more time. In the late '80s, I lost two of my old high school friends to AIDS. My parents were so supportive during those times. Not just to me, but also to my dying friends. They really made me proud to call them my parents. I think I have made them proud over the years too. I hope so.
- R439 Love your story. Very similar to mine.
My favorite part of your story: "Have you heard the expression 'Birds of a feather flock together'? Well, we're flocking!!!".
I LOL'ed so hard. Thank you for the laugh.
- R429 - What was the reaction of your aunt and uncle after their son took his life?
- Sorry, Anti-70s & 80s person, here's another!
Being in the closet was killing me. I was depressed and had considered suicide. I felt like a fraud. I felt that people only liked me because they perceived me to be something I was not. My family was very conservative and religious. All of my close friends (all two of them) were straight.
By my senior year of H.S. (1982-1983), I had dated a couple of girls, but I knew they weren't for me. My parents were pressuring me to date a family friend's daughter and I was really stressing out. One night they pushed it and I just let 'em have it. I told them I was gay. You could have heard a pin drop.
Mom started crying. Dad mumbled something under his breath and walked out. Mom hugged me and said they needed time. I went upstairs to my room and put on my headphones. I cried a little and tried to drown out my depression with some Blue Oyster Cult. There was a loud knocking on my door. I got up and opened it. It was my best friend, Joey.
He said, "Dude, what's wrong with your family? Your mom is crying, your dad looks pissed. You look terrible, bud, what's going on?"
I said, "Well, I may as well tell you. I know you're going to hate me too, but I just came out of the closet! I'm gay."
He looked shocked and said nothing at first. Then he looked angry. He said, "You filthy son of a bitch. How could you have lied to me? You filthy fuck!!!" He pushed me against the wall. Then he said, "I'm outta here!" and headed for my bedroom door. I was devastated.
Then he turned to me, burst out laughing and said, "Just messin' with you, buddy!" Then he told me that he and Dwayne, my other friend, had already figured that out. I had shown no interest in the girls in their porno magazines or on their VHS taped porno movies. He said they had also busted me checking out other guys asses and crotches. Then he said, "I gotta tell Dwayne!"
He called Dwayne from my bedroom phone and said, "Hey, guess what! Randy's a homo, dude. We were right. He just came out." I heard Dwayne laugh on the other end of the phone and he said, "I KNEW it!" He asked Joey to put me on the phone. He was so cool with it. I was shocked that my two best friends weren't even phased by my coming out (especially during that era). I had chosen my friends wisely.
My parents eventually got used to the idea and things were cool again. My opinion is that that accepted my sexuality, because they saw how much happier I was after coming out. They had never seen me smile so much. I think we actually ended up becoming closer in the long run. As for my buddies, they are both married. They both have grown children and we are still close, even though I live a few hundred miles from them. We visit often.
Mine was a very positive experience. I consider myself very lucky.
- at story r442. You had me going the same way your friends had you.
- Thanks a lot, r442! Now I'm all teary-eyed again.
- I came out in college. I was home visiting for the weekend and over dinner I was asked if I had a girlfriend (for the 20th time since the school year had started). I just sighed.
'The man who impregnated the woman who puked me out of her vagina' stated very frankly, "You're not a goddamn queer, are you? You were a bit of a sissy when you were a kid, I thought you were going to be one. You're not are you?"
'The woman who puked me out of her vagina' said, "No, he's not one of those perverts."
I pushed my plate away and said, "Actually, I am!"
'The man who impregnated the woman who puked me out of her vagina' screamed, "You damn well better not be."
I said, "I am."
'The man who impregnated the woman who puked me out of her vagina' screamed, "Get your fucking ass out of this house! You are an abomination to God and to this family. You are NEVER WELCOME HERE AGAIN!"
"The woman who puked me out of her vagina' screamed, "This is an abomination! This is disgusting. You are trash! GET OUT!"
I walked out the door, slammed it and sped away. The week after I came out I got a letter from 'The man who impregnated the woman who puked me out of her vagina'. It was a two page letter of scriptures from the Bible and a diatribe against me and my 'life choices'. He talked about how they were a good, religious family and he reiterated, "Do not contact us again...EVER!" That was 37 years ago.
I never saw them again. I have a secret relationship with my brother and sister. 'The man and woman who bumped uglies and created us' have no idea we have stayed in contact.
- holy crap
- Mom: "I think maybe it's just a phase[bold]?[/bold](Question mark bolded because she really didn't understand and was asking me...)"
Then after a pause, "But I love you no matter what."
- R441 I saw his parents briefly at the funeral back here in Denver in '81. I never spoke with them about it. They still live off in Georgia, so I have never seen them since. I am still close to their two daughters, who both live near me.
One of the daughters told me years ago that my cousin came out to his parents because he was in love and wanted to move in with his 30-something boyfriend. When his dad beat him and threw him out, he went to the boyfriend's house.
The boyfriend turned him away from the door. He was back with his ex and told my cousin that it was over. It was too much for my cousin to handle. He had nowhere to go. If he had called my parents, they would have paid for him to come back to Denver. I only wish he had.
According to his sister, the parents were destroyed by his death. They did not, however, blame themselves. They blamed his "deviant lifestyle and bad choices." That is why I have never cared to have contact with his parents again. Very sad story.
- That explains the pencil marks on the phone
- I told my parents once I was out of college and earning my own way. They had come to visit me in Boston and I took them out to dinner, thinking that if it went badly it was better to be in a public place and on neutral territory.
They were both mainly relieved to have their suspicions finally confirmed. My Dad's first words were, "Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out", which I still smile about.
My mother had a harder time with having the truth out, but she made it clear that she loved me no matter what. It was religion that got in her way of being able to accept me without worries for my eternal soul. She supported me regardless, though. I’m one of the lucky ones.
- R442 Your friends sound exactly like my brothers. I came out at 19 (in 1987) and my mom and dad took my coming out badly (they were okay with it after getting used to it). After I came out, I went back to my apartment and I was really upset. I heard someone knock on the door and my room-mate answered it.
My younger brother (one year younger) sat silently on the sofa with a scowl on his face. My oldest brother (two years older) stood and looked beyond enraged. He yelled, "You selfish little asshole! Do you know what you've done to mom and dad? Do you realize what you've done to this family? I want to take you outside and beat the fucking shit out of you."
My room-mate piped in and said, "Guys, he's been through a rough time. Either leave or I'm calling the police!"
My brother told him to mind his own business. That it was a family thing. I said, "I don't need this right now. If you can't be supportive, please get the fuck out!"
My two brothers and my room-mate looked at one another and started laughing like crazy. My brothers hugged me and said they had known for a while (a year or two before, my brother dated the sister of a friend of mine and she told him).
My younger brother reached into his shirt pocket and took out a joint. He said, "Here, I think you need some of this." We sat around and got blitzed out of our heads. Smoking joint after joint. A great memory. I'll never forget it.
- R451 How sweet. You're very lucky.
- movies, novels, all of the above.
- OMG! I have spent the last hour reading these testimonies. Wow! What an emotional roller-coaster. You all have such strength. Blessings!
- My mother called me while I was in my dorm room. When I answered I hear my full name, followed by, "your sister was told that you were at a gay bar last Saturday night. Is that true?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Does this mean you're gay?"
*She handed phone to my father*
"Boy, are you thinking straight?"
"Daddy, I've never had a straight thought in my life."
He hung up.
Now, I have to put this all into perspective. I grew up in a very large family in the South. My mother and I always got along very well; my father and I, not so much. He and I could argue over anything and we clashed over pretty much everything.
The silence and non-communication with them both after that phone call lasted for a few weeks. In the meantime, my older brother offered to pay for a hooker, my younger sisters were very cool with it, as were most of my younger brothers. With the exception of my mother not talking to me at all, it seemed like life as normal so to speak.
Flash forward six months, my mother and I had begun talking again, my father and I still didn't talk. My sister was getting married and told me that I was not going to miss her wedding, family be damned. I show up to the small Baptist church we attended as children. The church elders were outside smoking in the parking lot and started making the expected remarks about gays and hell as I walked up. My father walked over to me, hugged me and said, "This is my son, he may be gay, but he's a bigger man than any of you to be able to say it and know that it's his life to live as only he can. And, I love him."
From that night on, my father and I never had another curt word for each other, no more arguements, no negativity. It was that way until he died 6 years later. My mother and I are very open and discuss everything freely, including comparing my ex to my step dad and having a good laugh about it.
Of my siblings, only two sisters and two brothers have issues that they choose to openly express. Needless to say, I really have nothing to say to them. The others all treat me no differently than they do any of the rest of the family.
I guess all in all, I've been pretty darned lucky.
- My dad: "Is sucking cock as much fun as I think it is?"
Oh. My. God.
- My Grade #04 teacher told my mom, c. 1980-1981, that she suspected me of being gay because I wasn't socially like the other boys in her class. My mom related this to me in the late 1980s. I thought it was inappropriate for my teacher to say that to my mother because it was not respectful to me and my privacy. It sounded to me like a warning shot. "I think your son may be gay, so you may need to brace yourself, Mrs. xxx."
I mention this because there are people who are observant enough to get the feeling that a child may be gay. And that the reveal to one's parents -- the open and direct admission -- may not be entirely news to them. That their are adults in view of a child's development, and -- if they're smart -- they observe and leave it be.
I wondered about this teacher, and whether there was any motive for her telling my mother. As if it implied, "You can do something about this." That's because it was long ago that it may have crossed that teacher's mind. But I don't know.
I was socially not at ease with a lot of people in my school. And it didn't have to do with sexuality. It had to do with them being unappealing.
- Awesome stories! Can this go on forever???
- r456, any epilogue or follow-up to your story?
When did Daddy finally come out?
- R423, can you give me your parents phone number, please? I'd like to have a little "discussion" with them.
- Damn, I feel like I had it easy. My parents were shocked and a little "distant" for a while, but they got over it and accepted me for what I am. My heart goes out to all of you, regardless of your experience. Your bravery is commendable.
- It's not me, but my ex came out to his parents when he was 18. His father took the opportunity to reveal his own gay tendencies. I always suspected.
His mom was the breadwinner, tall, handsome woman with prematurely-gray hair. She always wore the same blue pants suit and really liked fixing things. She once crawled under our sink to fix a leak. Washington bigwig.
Dad was retired, a poet forever trying to break into the New Yorker, a former city planner, and the spitting image of my ex.
The ex didn't want to hear his revelation! He was like, this is about ME, Dad!
His Dad is still around, at 95, and the last time I saw him, he looked fully out. He was wearing a purple sweatshirt with the neck torn out, a la Flashdance, which had pastel paint drips all over it.
I told the ex to hire him a hooker. He deserves it after all this time. Even if it's just to snuggle naked together.
- r464 yikes
- r464, you mean to say a 90-year old was wearing this???
(or at least 65 years old - if you last saw him in 1983, when those sweaters came out)
Lord have mercy!
- He was R466, but it had paint spatters on it. He's 95 as of this year. Still debating the hooker. I wonder if any specialize in geriatrics?
- Mine was... interesting. My parents were very cold, bitter and unhappy people. In all the years I was growing up, I only saw my father smile once. My mother, never! I was never close to them at all. They were extremely racist and anti-gay. To them, there was nothing worse than a "queer". I decided to come out to them because I'd had an affair with a married man and it went bad. The wife was telling everyone in the small town about the affair. I knew it was a matter of time before it got back to them. So...
ME: Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you.
MOM: Just as long as you're not going to tell us you're a queer, or something like that.
DAD: Yeah, I don't want to hear it if you're a dope addict, a queer or you have some slut pregnant. You're not marrying a n--ger, are you?
ME: Well, I'm not on dope, I haven't gotten some slut pregnant and I'm not marrying anyone of any color.
DAD: (hesistated) Jesus Fucking Christ!!! Any opportunity you kids have to humiliate your parents, you fucking take. I don't want to hear any more about this shit! Don't tell anyone outside this house and I goddam well mean it! I'm fucking done with you! That's the worst thing a man can be!!!
MOM: Oh, this is terrible. Why are you doing this to us? We'll never live this down! We just need you out of here. This goes against everything we believe!
I left their house a few minutes later. Thankfully, I was 21 and on my own.
The next time I saw them was three years later at my dearest sister's funeral in 1989. They did not speak to me at all. I was told by an usher when I arrived at the service that I was not to sit with the immediate family. I was fine with that. The worst jab they took at me was in the obituaries in the local newspapers and the printed programs for the service.
They listed the survivors as my mother and father, my drug-addled older brother, my crackhead sister, my youngest brother and numerous nephews and nieces. I was not listed anywhere. That particular sister and I were extremely close. The rest of that family could take a flying leap!
In the 24 years since, I have never seen them again. I moved from New York to Denver in 1990 and I have never been back. I am very happy. I have my own family of gay and lesbian friends.
Never Liked 'Em Anyway!
- dang, r468! harsh and horrible. wow. what religion were/are they?
- R469 They were VERY harsh and horrible. I really always kind of felt sorry for them. Both were very depressed and angry people and nothing brought joy into their lives. They found the nagative in every situation. Thankfully I did not inherit that. They were Jewish. I was never that deep into the religion and I am an Athiest now.
- My mother's family was limited in the same way R468. Grim. Never smiled, complained about minorities and anyone else who they thought "got something for nothing." We'd get dropped off at their house as kids, and Grandma would be looking at a wrestling magazine and Grandpa would be arguing with the voices in his head. Ugh.
- R470 here. Damn, I just noticed two spelling fuck-ups. I meant to say "negative" and "Atheist". It's been a long day. LOL.
- I was always a little flamboyant and marched to the beat of my own drum. Some people talked shit about me, but I've always been happy and never gave two fucks. I like me and I am comfortable with me. I came out at 15 in 2007.
Mom giggled and said, "Hon, we always sort of figured that. We've always loved you and always will, sweetie."
Dad was like, "You've always been a little different and that's one of the things we love about you. You're a great kid. We couldn't ask for more."
My parents are the greatest. They weren't shocked by me. They were shocked by my older sister coming out as a lesbian. Hell, that one even shocked me. They are the greatest and handled her coming out well too. At least they have three straight kids (lol).
- lezzie story: i actually never came out to my parents and family. but they know. i have been in pro sports for about 15 years and have always been borderline jock/dykey. i figured they didn't want to sound stupid and go for the stereotypes.
we just never talked about it. they were waiting for me to be ready - they still are.
i grew up without a father and back then i was really paranoid that my mother would turn her back on me. funny thing was - she's actually really cool. my sisters male friends always tried to hit on me, but she shushed them away, lol. i was just paralized and the moment to tell passed.
when i started dating my "roomie", they knew. my mom would send her birthday and christmas gifts. hell, my sister just wrote her name next to mine when she arranged the seating at her wedding. they never said a bad thing about being gay.
i'll tell them when i find the one i want to settle down with.
- R474 I hope no one gets hit by a bus in the meantime.
- My mother actually said, "Do you take the woman's role or the man's role?"
- R442, it's "fazed," not "phased."
- R477 I hope R442 dies in a grease fire. That is the worst grammatical abomination ever. Completely unacceptable!
- I had dreaded coming out to my parents for years. I thought they would be crushed. Instead, I encountered no shock at all from them when I came out at 25 in 1996.
Mom: "I hope you don't get angry, but I was cleaning your room one day and I found some pictures of you from spring break one year. In the pictures, it was very evident that you enjoyed kissing other boys." (She laughed).
Dad: "Well Son, Your mom already gave me the heads up. I guess I always kinda knew. I remember suspecting as far back as when you were 12 or 13. No big deal, my brother was gay and I loved him too. I think that's why I suspected you might be gay. You were so much like him."
My parents handled it wonderfully. Love 'em.
- R473 "Mom giggled and said, "Hon, we always sort of figured that. We've always loved you and always will, sweetie."
Dad was like, "You've always been a little different and that's one of the things we love about you. You're a great kid. We couldn't ask for more."
That's the way it should be. I wish all families were like this. Mine was not.
- DAD: Your mom and I don't tell you what we do in bed. Why the fuck do you feel compelled to tell us about what you do? We don't need to hear this shit! It's disgusting is what it is.
MOM: This is really out of line. Why are you telling us this? What good can come of this? Just keep it to yourself, please. Let's never discuss this again.
31 years since, and it has never been discussed again. As a matter of fact, I found out a few years ago that they are telling former classmates and old friends of mine, when asked about me, that "He has girlfriends all over the place. I guess he'll never settle down." Talk about denial.
- R482 Just when you thought you were out of the closet, your parents dragged you right back in kicking and screaming. LOL. That's funny and sad at the same time. My parents were in denial too, but not quite to that extreme.
- Seriously, r483. Here's Al Pacino playing r482.
- R484 LOL, I had that scene in mind when I posted. Thanks for the visual.
- My God! I love this thread. People, keep the stories coming. This should be a fucking movie!
- I was 24 in 1989. I had never actually used the words, "I'm Gay!", but I assumed everyone knew. I always thought I was pretty obvious. I was pretty, but I guess not obvious enough, LOL.
I was visiting my parents out in B.F.E. where I grew up, and my sister and I were having a conversation at my parent's dining room table. She mentioned some dude that we went to school with and sis said, "I think he wanted to do nasties with you." I laughed and replied, "Old news, baby. I did about 100 different nasties with him before graduation."
My mom was washing dishes and actually dropped a glass on the floor. She turned around and said, "Michael, what did you say?" I replied, "Well, I wasn't a virgin, Mom!" She said, "No, let's backtrack to the part where you were doing things with another boy." I said, "Mom, that's old news too. I thought you knew I was gay. I've never hidden it."
She broke down crying and said she never would have guessed. I got up and hugged her, she hugged me back and said she loved me, but she was so shocked. My sister even said, "Mom, are you serious? I thought you knew. How could you not?" Mom gathered her thoughts and said, "Baby, I thought you were just artsy-fartsy, not gay! I am beyond speechless."
At this point I thought I'd better sit Dad down and tell him. Dad came in from work and my sister and I asked to see him in his study. I asked him to sit down and I said, "Dad. I feel I need to make something official. It's something I thought you and Mom already knew, but here goes, I'm gay!"
He looked at me with the funniest "No shit!" look ever and started to laugh. He said, "Buddy, as much as you and your sister talked about boys, and with the types of friends you used to bring through here, there's no way we couldn't have known. We'd had to have been blind." He laughed some more.
I said, "Mom didn't know. She almost had a stroke." He called my mom in and was astonished that she didn't know. Mom got used to it rather quickly. Dad was cool with it before I ever came out. When they introduce us to their friends they, without shame or hesitation, say, "This is our son Michael and his partner Joseph." If anyone has anything negative to say, they shut them right the fuck down. Too cool.
- I think that some parents have a difficult time adjusting to the idea that their growing children have any sexuality, regardless of orientation. They just can't deal with the idea of their child having sex. Straight is the societal default so that's what they believe, just because. It's easier to compartmentalize "sex" away into an unseen, unthought of package of heterosexuality. I'm not sure if I'm explaining myself clearly.
- This is a stupid thread. Obviously created by an "older gay person." Why does any one care about someone elses coming out? I don't give a damn about any body's stories. I could care less about any one elses experiences in life. Just get over it. The world has become such pussies. Who gives?
- R490 God, I hate you! I actually feel sorry for you. Are you REALLY that unfeeling about others? You REALLY don't give a damn about anyone else's life experiences? You are vile and detestable. People like you are what is wrong with this fucking world! No one cares about anyone but themselves. Let me guess: When you meet a man, you size up whether or not he's cute, what he can do for you and how big his cock is. Fuck what kind of person he is. Fuck getting to know him. You just take it up the ass real quick and bolt on to the next person to satisfy your needs. You uncaring little shit! Someday you will wind up old and alone. Then you will wonder why. Think back on what you posted on DL on 03/14/13 and you'll have your fucking answer! Get a fucking clue!
- R491 A-FUCKING-MEN!!! Thank you!
- Mom-why didn't you tell us sooner
Dad-do you need money
Younger Sister-Fuck!!! Why didn't you tell me this sooner...all this time you have been hiding this from me, I knew it!!! I am so psyched to have a gay brother.
Older Sister-(she was told by younger sister), he's gonna die alone
Younger Brother-(still lives in our home town) don't bring it around here...he has never admitted it but I know he regrets saying that
grew up in a very small town in New England...came out in my early 30's...I was bullied terribly in school and in town...
- I am a lesbian.
Mom: silence. Just sat there looking teary and depressed.
Dad: "I kinda knew." Then, privately, my father told me that he was always way more sexually adventurous than my mother, so he totally understood. He just wanted me to be happy. Then he hugged me and has been a big proponent of same sex rights every since. I never asked him what he meant, but I assume it meant that he was bi on the down low. I love him.
- My friend, who has kool aid drinking republican parents, said that the first thing his dad said was...." you're still going to vote republican, aren't you?"
- Dad: " I always loved your brother more."
- r496, and that explains Log Cabin Republicans.
I overheard your phone conversation with Mike last night about your plans to come out to me. The only thing you need to plan is to bring home OJ and bread after class. We are out, like you now.
I've known you were gay since you were six. I've loved you since you were born.
p.s. Your mom and I think you and Mike make a cute couple.
- Why would anyone come out to their parents? It seems silly to me. I mean, after all, I'm not going to fuck them, so why do they need to know who I fuck? I'm 26 and would never tell them something like that. They would have a stroke.
- Dad: "Oh shit, how is this going to affect my political career?"
- You better wake up, r500, you are living a dangerous lifestyle.
- r500 I hope you are kidding. Coming out doesn't mean telling the graphic details of your sex life. What happens if you get in a serious romantic relationship with a man?? Are you gonna tell them??
Many straight people show off their boyfriends/girlfriends without having to hide it -- so in an essence they "come out" that way.
Very few gay people would spring on their partners without having their parents know before hand that they are gay.
- r501 LOL
- r500 do you have any straight siblings or straight friends your age?
Do their parents know they are straight?
It's the same exact thing.
- I'm a bi dude. Should I come out?
- If you're a 'bi dude' in your twenties, you will be a gay dude in your thirties, so whatever, dude.
- [quote]I'm a bi dude. Should I come out?
Bi now, gay later.
- R507 You people are SO mean to me. LOL.
R506 Guess I'm not "bi" after all.
- R506 What R507 said! You can only force yourself to eat fish for so long before you just can't do it anymore. Trust me, been there. I was bi at 28 and flaming gay by 32. See you on the other side.
- R499, the Gawker commenters who are puzzled about how the dad knew when his son was 6 must never have read the "Dialing the phone with a pencil" thread.
- I was a shy and lonely boy. In 10th Grade (1981-82) I met my first boyfriend. The second we met, sparks ignited. I was in love. My parents were divorced. My dad was a hard-working, sweet guy and my mom had a lot of problems (she loved the bottle and couldn't put it down) and left my father for a series of men. I lived with my dad, along with my younger sister. He took good care of us and we wanted for nothing. He busted his ass every day for the two of us. He was the living definition of what a true father is.
My new "friend" was at the house a lot and dad really liked him. One day, after we dropped my friend off at his house, my dad mentioned how nice it was the I finally had a good friend. I don't know what compelled me, but I just blurted it out and said, "Dad, I think I'm gay. I feel things for him that other boys say they feel with girls. I think we're in love."
He just shrugged and said (with tears forming in his eyes), "Son, in this life if you find someone that you love, and that someone loves you, hang on to them really tight. True love is hard to find. You and your sister are my loves and I'll hang on to both of you forever. If you're happy in this life, so am I."
He smiled and that was that. He was always supportive and was always the one I could turn to. I lost him 6 years ago, just days after his 63rd Birthday, and my saddest regret is that he never found a soulmate to replace mom after she broke his heart. He was such a good man and so deserved someone. He was a happy man, but I would have loved to see him even happier.
- Your post made me tear up Brian. What a man your Dad was,he gave you a wonderful start in life.
- I don't think this has been posted here yet. I'm usually stoic about these things, but this made me tear up.
- yes it was, but worth a bump.
- I'm a straight female. I think my husband and I knew from an early age that one of our sons was probably going to be gay. He was such an exceptionally good kid. We discussed it many times and we were both fine with it.
When he was 15, he came out to us. We hugged him and told him how special he was to us. I think we're actually closer. My husband and I try to keep up on gay issues and get more familiar with our son's world. Hence, why I am here. LOL.
I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my kids. If they all turn out gay, so be it. It's just a small facet of what my child is. Love for a child is unconditional. This "frau" loves her children and will fight to the death for them (gay, straight, bi, or transgendered).
- Hi Vicki, just wanted to tell you I love you...
- R517 Luv ya too, sweetheart. Best wishes!
- Here's some love for Vicki. too! Muah!!!
- Truly one of the best threads of all time.
- Vicki, I adore you! May all the other parents around you take note.
- I never told them, mostly because I moved out as quickly as I possibly could at age 18. I have no idea how they would have handled it but it didn't really matter because there was no love, no closeness, no sharing, no support, no real communication in our family. Our family was very much a Norman Rockwell painting on the outside but dead inside. I haven't seen them or spoken to them since and it's taken me years to get over the damage of being raised in that cold, cold environment.
The first person I came out to was a friend half a dozen years later who, out of the blue, asked me if I was gay. I said yes and we chatted about it for a bit. He told me he was cool with it and I was just incredibly relieved that my first time had gone so well. I was literally shaking during that conversation and for some time afterward because that first step was so emotionally intense.
Unfortunately, my relief didn't last long, since it soon became clear that he couldn't handle it. He stopped taking my calls and wouldn't call me and after that night I never saw him again. I still have no idea why and I was too hurt and too devastated to force myself on him to get an answer.
I didn't try again for another half a dozen years, this time to my then-roommate and best friend. He told me that it was no big deal and that he had known for over a year and was just waiting for me to tell him. And this time, I had a friend who really did mean it. Nothing had changed between us and he remained my roommate and best friend, even standing up for me against his own parents, who thought that he shouldn't be hanging out with a gay roommate. Bless the people like that.
Since then, it's just not been an issue. I'm out at work, out to my friends, and I've built up a new "family" of people who really do care for me just as I am. As to what goes on in that cold home back in Texas? I neither know nor care.
- R522, So happy to hear that you've found people that truly care about you. I really know how hard it is to trust others when you've been so hurt. Accept the fact that some families are so diseased mentally that they cannot truly love, let alone accept one another or their differences. Then it's best to emotionally as well as physically separate, and start anew.
- Damn, Vicki at r516, whether or not your kids are gay, you are an awesome human and an excellent mother in particular. Am childless, but I vote every year to raise my taxes to pay for public education because I know that there are people like you and your kids out there.
- You're a great Mom, R516, Vicki!
And your son and the rest of your children must be great kids to have you and their father.
I probably will never be a parent, but I know that if you are one and you screw it up, it really doesn't matter what else you do!
Vicki, you've done well, kiddo!
- When I was 32, my parents bought a condo smack dab across the street from Warm Sands in Palm Springs. I was deep in the closet, and truly didn't know Palm Springs was a gay destination. I took the dog for a walk and thought, Holy Shit, where did they move too?
Fast forward a few years. I was out to my Mom but not my dad. Came down for a weekend with a bunch of friends. We stayed at what is now All Worlds (it was Inn Something or other then). A friend asked how close my parents lived. I replied, see that lady waving on the balcony across the street? That's my mom. We went over to their place that night for dinner and my folks loved my friends. I'm just surprised my dad didn't say something to the effect of, so you guys ditched your girlfriends and have a stag weekend? He was that clueless.
The next day we were at the pool, and a friend and I chatting and I looked up and said, Hi dad. My friend later told me he was about to say, fuck off troll. I to this day don't know how my dad got in. It was gated and locked. I heard my mom on the outside yelling Yoo Hoo? Yoo Hoo? How do I get in?
I let mom in. A few friends were doing a water ballet routine in the pool. A friend later told me that my dad was transfixed by an Enquirer article posted up, How To Tell If Your Son is Gay.
Dad had the normal parental confusion at first, and later sent me an article about some ancient Greek battle where the Greeks won, and all the warriors were gay.
Later that year, we had our first real conversation about anything ever, and he told me that all he wished for me was to be happy and find a nice feller and build a good life.
I lucked out in the parental department. I did meet the nice feller, we had a lovely home and my parents AND their conservative friends loved our parties and our friends.
He died about three years ago, but I'm very grateful to have the father I had.
- I agree with you, R500. I wish I had never told them.
I never, ever recommend it to anyone. I even allowed my best friend to let me be the one who told his parents how he died (and how he lived) when the time came.
- R511 What does "Dialing the Phone with a Pencil" mean?
- There was a grat thread here some years ago about early signs that you were gay. One of those signs was attempting to be super-sophisticated by dialing a (presumably rotary) phone with a pencil, just like in a classic black-and-white movie.
The thread had some absolutely hilarious stories about early impressarios, drag queens, flaming boys, butch girls, and tomboys.
- Sigh... "great," of course, not "grat."
- Oh, thanks, R530. I used to do that, back when we had a non-pushbutton dial phone. But my grandmother got upset because I used the pencil side and made marks on the dial. But it didn't work with the eraser side.
- R527: Fun story, but I hope your "friend" no longer says "fuck off troll" to those he deems unworthy of speaking to you.
- I came out in 1977, when I was 16. To be exact, Monday, August 15, 1977. I remember vividly because my favorite singer, Elvis, died the next day, adding to my grief.
My sister, who was a royal cunt (and whom I had never gotten along with), saw my boyfriend and I exchange a quick kiss in his car (around the corner from the house). She told my fanatical, fundaMENTAList parents. I came home that afternoon and they had the preacher from their church at the dining room table. They told me to sit down. They started screaming at me and demanding to know the truth. The preacher even jumped in on the yelling and demanded to know. My mother called me the spawn of Satan.
I admitted it and my father threw me against the wall several times and punched me in the face, breaking out my top front teeth. My mouth was pouring blood. He punched me in the eye and I blacked out. I came to on the front porch with a paper grocery bag with a few items of my clothing in it. Scribbled in black magic-marker on the bag were the words "Don't come back!" I didn't. I never had contact with them again.
I had an older brother who was beaten by my father and left home in 1975, when he was 17. He and I reconnected on Facebook 5 or 6 years ago. His life turned out pretty good, as did mine. Little did I know, he was gay too. Our parents never knew.
Time warp to 2010. I attended my cousin's wedding in Las Vegas and she told me to be on the lookout. My mother was desperately trying to track me down. It seems she wanted a reunion with me. My cousin also let me know that the reason was not because she had a change of heart about me, but that my father had died a year earlier, she'd had a falling out years earlier with my sister, and she was in severe financial straits. She was also in very poor health and needed someone to take care of her. She was still a religious fanatic and a drunk.
Sure enough, about three weeks later, I received a letter from her. I never opened it. I wrote in black magic-marker on the envelope "Never coming back! Return to Sender." I recieved one more letter in 2010 and never opened it. I ran it through the shredder. I have never received any more correspondence from her. I hope I never do.
- R536 here. In my last paragraph, I said "recieved". It should have been "received." I am usually good at catching typos, but reliving this story put me through the emotional wringer.
- [quote]I had an older brother who was beaten by my father and left home in 1975, when he was 17. He and I reconnected on Facebook 5 or 6 years ago. His life turned out pretty good, as did mine. Little did I know, he was gay too.
Thanks for sharing Bret. Glad life was pretty good afterwards.
- R538 You're very welcome. Thank you.
- R536 You said you reconnected with your brother on Facebook. Do you just chat with each other, or have you visited one another? What about your sister? Did you ever reconcile?
- Thanks, Bret. Your story is not unlike my own, save the two front teeth.
- The saddest thing about this thread is how religion has played a part in so many negative stories.
I wasn't bought up in any religious faith, I was bought up to treat everyone how I would like to be treated myself.
So many inspiring life stories here.
- I'll say it again - BEST THREAD ON THIS BOARD IN THE 11 YEARS I'VE BEEN HERE!!!!!!!!!
Thank you all for sharing your amazing stories, such important pieces of your lives, the best and worst moments of your lives. It's been truly inspiring and I never want it to end. Every life is a huge story and journey indeed.
It grieves me to think that even if we have "part 2, 3....." in a few months this thread will disappear. Can the mods do anything to save it so it's always there?
Carry on with your incredible life stories, guys.
- R540 Oddly, within a couple of years of leaving home in Utah, I relocated to Arlington, Texas. I have been here ever since.
I was curious about my brother for decades. I had no idea if he was dead or alive. I had done internet searches over the years and turned up nothing. One day I was cruising Facebook and typed his name in. He has a common first and last name (which made the net searches a challenge), so I scrolled through many names, and then there he was. He listed his current city as Fort Worth (just a few miles away). I friend requested him and we are constant companions now.
He said he had stalked my MySpace and Facebook pages for a couple of years, but didn't have the guts to contact me. He was afraid I would be disappointed that he was gay (I am out of the closet and open about it, but I don't advertise it on my social media---work reasons). I laughed and said, "Surprise! Me too!" We both have great partners and a lot of good times together.
Neither of us have reconnected with our sister. She was a fundie whacko like our parents. She was also a big trouble maker in the family and she loves drama and turmoil. Neither of us need that in our peaceful and happy lives. Her Facebook page is what kept us from contacting her. She's still a whacko, loves family turmoil, HATES gays with every fiber of her being, and spouts the gospel to her list of "friends." No, thanks! LOL.
- R541 I'm glad you made it through okay. As for my teeth (LOL), I wore a partial set of falsies for years. Finally, about twelve or thirteen years ago I splurged and got permanent dental implant replacements. Much better.
- r542 True. Religion makes people even turn against their children.
- I came out twice. First time was when I was 15. My mom cried, my dad called me a dirty f**. He beat me pretty bad and threw me out of the house.I lived on the street for a bit over a year, turning tricks to eat and get high. I hated, but didn't know what to do. I kept in contact with my mom, I just didn't tell her how I was living. I got beat up very bad by a trick and ended up in the hospital for about two weeks. While I was there the social worker got in touch with my parents. My dad didn't want me home because I was gay. The social worker told him he had to provide food, clothing and shelter for me until I was 18 and if he didn't want me living with him he still had to provide me with all those things. My mom came to the hospital and begged me to come home, even if I had to hide who I was. So I went home, a newly straight kid. I was a good faux straight kid until I left home at 19 to go to college. Once I was sure I could handle college, and paying for it, I came out again. Again my mom cried my dad called me a f** and tried to hit me, but I was much bigger and stronger than him by then. I so wanted to hit him but all I did was stop him from hitting me. I kissed my mom and left. Mom came down to my college that week to tell me how proud she was of me that I was able to stand up against my dad. I never saw my dad again. He died about ten years after that. Mom and I still are very close.
- holy crap.
- My life changed in the Summer of 1981, when I was 15.
My parents had divorced when I was 8. It was a nasty, terrible divorce. My dad was a nice guy, my mom was a nasty, horrible, selfish bitch. If things weren't done as she wanted, you got a slap. That went for me, my sister and my dad. In front of company and relatives she was a sweet, loving mother, but as soon as they were out of sight, she was a mean, horrid, abusive bitch. Slap, slap, slap!
In the divorce, she got custody of us and when we were to visit my dad, she always made it difficult for him. Even worse, six months after the divorce she married a raging, abusive drunk. He and his two asshole, bully sons moved into our "home." It became a nightmare of epic proportions. I took years of beatings. Slaps from my mother and beatings from her second husband and his horrible, drug-addled sons.
In late 1980 or early 1981, I was walking home from a friend's house and I saw a bunch of magazines laying in a ditch. It was obvious they were hardcore porno magazines. I, naturally, went to investigate. There were 7 or 8 graphic gay magazines. I got an instant boner and snuck them home. I would hide them in an old trunk in my closet.
One day, one of the sons was going through my things in my room (probably looking for money to steal to buy weed or acid) and found the magazines. He took them to my 'mother' and her husband. When I got home, her husband called me every horrible name in the book and beat me with his belt and fists until I was almost unconcious. He son threw in a few punches and my mother screamed and called me horrible names.
I hobbled out of the house and walked about 15 miles to my dad's house outside of town. He was not home. I sat on his porch and patched up my wounds and cried. He drove up and was horrified when he saw my condition. He flew into a rage (I had never seen him angry before) and he told me to get in his truck. We drove back to my 'mother's' house. My dad screamed and yelled at them.
The husband told my dad I was a 'cornholing faggot' and threw the magazines to my dad and told him to look at what I was. He then threw a punch at my dad. My dad beat him to a bloody pulp. My mother had the audacity to call the police. When the police got there, she, her husband and his son were arrested.
My dad told me he was fine with me being gay. He never had a problem with it and had assumed I might be from an early age. He ended up getting full custody of my sister and me. Life from then on was happy, loving and peaceful. He was a hard-working man and loved us dearly. I never saw my mother or her hubby, etc. again.
In a sad note, about a year later, I read in the paper that one of the sons burned their house down after a violent argument. I never called the woman to see if she was okay. I didn't give a shit. In early 1982, my dad moved us to from Kansas to Texas when he was transferred with his job and I had a great high school experience and made some friends that I still have today. I attended college in Austin and I have lived a great life.
My dad has always been a rock of support for my sister and me. Without him, I shudder to think where I would have ended up. It's a very scary thought. I would probably be dead. Thank you, Dad, for always being there for me. I love you!
- Wow. Stunning.
- My parents were religious, but they weren't fanatics. Thank God! I always felt like I was pretty obvious about being gay and I was sure they at least suspected. When I came out at 16 in 1985, they were okay with it.
They told me they didn't believe being gay was wrong, that the Bible was very vague on the subject. While the Bible called homosexuality an abomination and said it was punishible by death, they noted the other things listed as 'abominations punishible by death' that included eating shellfish, backtalking to parents, etc. They also noted that Jesus himself never said one word against it and that he himself associated with gays, etc.
I had three brothers and two sisters. In 1991, my youngest brother came out too. Once again, my parents were awesome.
I want to give a shout out to all of you for your courage in coming out and for posting your stories here. Thank you from the bottom of my gay little heart. With love.
- This thread has me laughing and then in tears. Good grief!
- Awesome thread. Can't believe it's almost maxed out. Shit. We'll need a Part II soon. This is better than a TV movie of the week.
- I never told my parents I am gay. Didn't seem worth discussion as they have always loved my partner. My sister, adopted, never told them she was African-American either. Btw - we are all Republicans.
- I grew up in a seriously remote northern part of the US. The Upper Penninsula of Michigan. We were practically Canada, climate-wise. The first day of deer hunting season was a school holiday. Half of the student and teacher vehicles in the school parking lot featured gun racks, with loaded rifles tucked behind the truck cab seats. This was 1981, but it's probably the same now.
I envy those of you who could have boyfriends in those days. There is no question that if I had ever revealed my orientation, I would have been beaten or shot to death. There was brutal physical and psychological bullying of anyone casually assumed to be a "fag".
Even the teachers were in on it. In 9th grade, a substitute teacher sent a note home to my best friend warning them he might be gay. He was naturally incensed, and I asked "Is it true?" in a quiet way he ignored. I asked because I was in love with him and I wanted him to say yes. He denied it... you had to then and there or you risked your life.
Throughout high school I ached for certain boys. When I returned home from a school day, it was my job to fire up the wood stove that heated the house. I had about half an hour before my siblings came home. I would scribble the names of boys I loved on pieces of paper, along with declarations of my love. Then I would crumple them up and throw them into the fire and cry. I know: Mary.
I convinced myself I was straight, I just liked boys. The only representation of gays then were June blurts of parades in the media, always focused on drag queens and leather kings, nothing I understood. The nearest gay bar was 600 miles away, not that I even knew that much then. I even dated two girls, but I never passed first base.
I met a guy at work I fell for, platonically I told myself, lying. I followed him to a state school because he said I could be his roommate, even though I had been accepted into far better schools. I wanted to lick him all over, and I think he figured that out - he wriggled out of his dorm agreement and left me rooming with three strangers. This was 1984.
Not much later, I found a friend in the dorm's TV room who liked Madonna... we were the only ones in the only room in the dorm with cable, watching the premiere of the "Like a Virgin" video. By the end of the evening we were making out. By the end of the week we were fucking.
I stupidly jilted him for more boyfriends in a haste to catch up with my libido. I was 17 and just touched the concept of: I'm gay.
That spring I told my Mom, when home on break. I had books and pamphlets, and a prepared speech with notes, and sweaty palms. She cried, I cried. She told me she was afraid for me because of AIDS, and because I might not find love. I assured her I would find love.
I told my father (child of divorce) a year later. He was a former draftee to Vietnam, a latter-day hippie who preached every moment of my childhood about the equality of all people. The ultimate easy sell.
He told me point blank that he would not accept that (being gay) of me, and did not wish to speak to me anymore. That was 25 years ago, and we haven't spoken, not even when we saw each other at his mother's funeral, 20 years later.
So count me in the half-half camp. And probably the tl;dr camp.
- I read it 555. Did you find love? Did you ever get out of the UP?
I'm sorry your dad was a lousy hippie.
- Thanks r556. Yes, I left when I was 19, never went back. My mom moved to the East Coast and I followed her, then went off on my own.
Had a few boyfriends, but wound up with a husband. He's the best, and Mom and Stepdad and Sister and Brothers etc all treat him like family, as his family treats me. Nine years in now, and happier than ever.
- Some people suck and don't deserve to be parents.
- In 1980, when I was 16, I fell for a hot guy that moved to town. The first day he checked into school I was hooked. The second week he was there I caught him checking out my crotch as I walked by the bench he was sitting on. After I passed him I looked back and he was checking out my ass. I smiled, he smiled.
We gradually started talking to each other and became good friends. Then we became more. One Saturday afternoon he was at the house and as he was leaving (we couldn't contain ourselves), we kissed quickly on the driveway. I was horrified to see my mom standing in the yard, shocked, as I turned around.
As I walked back toward the house she said, "Honey, it's okay with me if that's what you're into, but, for the love of God, don't let your father know about this. You know how he is." Yes, I did know how he was. He was cold, bigoted and opinionated. We always had a tension-filled relationship.
In confidence, my mother said something about my being gay to her best friend. The best friend's husband was my father's friend. The husband blabbed to my dad. When I drove into the driveway one afternoon, he held his hand out and demanded my car keys. I asked him what I'd done. He shoved me violently against the car door and grabbed me by the collar. He screamed in my ear at the top of his lungs how it was the most disgusting thing on earth, worse than murder or bestiality, etc.
He started pushing me by hitting my chest and calling me a 'sick faggot'. I finally had enough and screamed, "Fuck you, you bigoted mother fucker!" He shoved me so hard that I flew backward about 8 or 9 feet. Then he got on top of me and beat the hell out of me. He told me he hated me and that I deserved to die for my sickness. The neighbors were watching and one pulled him off of me. Mom had tried, but wasn't strong enough. She was frantic.
The police came. They were obviously homophobic and let him off with a warning. The cops looked at me like I had just raped a corpse or something. Total disgust. I left and never returned. I really had nowhere else to go. I had a part-time job at Pizza Hut and quit school to go full-time to support myself. I lived on the streets for a while. One day, mom came to my job and asked me to come with her.
She took me and got me an efficiency apartment in her name and paid the first two months rent. She bought me food and helped me get started. She helped me get back into school and was very good to me. She did all this behind my dad's back. After a few months, my brother (two years younger) came crying to my door. My dad had beaten him because he failed two classes at school. I moved him in with me. He got a job and it made things easier.
After I graduated, I went into the Army and was able to get my college education. By the time I was finished, my mother and father had divorced. She said she never forgave him for what he did to me and my brother. She remarried in 1990 to a great guy. My father ended up committing suicide in 1992. My mother attended his funeral. My brother and I did not.
Life was tough back then, but very happy for me now. My brother has a good life too. It all worked out.
- Wow, Tom. You should write a book. Glad it worked out for you.
- R560 Why did your mom let you live on the street?
- R561 Thank you. I could write a book indeed. Much of the story leading up to these events was left out. It was quite a traumatic childhood at the hands of that sick man.
R562 She didn't know where I was for almost two weeks. It's a long story. I worked part- time at Pizza Hut, but I was off the schedule for a couple of weeks. She tried to reach me at work, but I wasn't there. She was a part-time waitress at a little restaurant. I did call and leave messages for her that I was okay.
On the evening I returned to work, my mom and my brother came in to the restaurant. Mom took me outside and cried and hugged me. She handed me an envelope with a few hundred dollars in it and got me a hotel room. Then the next week after she got her paycheck, she got me an apartment. She didn't have much, but she did so much to help me (and my brother when he moved in). She bought us a little TV, some used furniture, etc. By this time, I know she no longer loved my father.
My brother had dropped out of school and gotten his G.E.D., he went off to college at the same time I went into the military. We both made our mom proud. My brother is my best friend. My being gay is not even close to being an issue. He has a great wife, and his kids practically worship me (lol).
Mom later told me she had wanted to leave my dad years before but wasn't financially independent enough. He only let her work part-time (likely so she would never be independent enough to leave his sorry ass). She put back money in an "emergency escape fund", just in case. She was scared to leave him because he was very abusive in the early years of their marriage. She learned how not to push his buttons.
Her remarriage was a beautiful thing. She is so happy and alive now. Her husband is a wonderful, happy, vibrant (and very liberal) man.
I found a great man, myself. We have been together since 1996. This story had many happy endings. I think we all deserved them.
- Thank you OP, for starting this thread. Surely there is someone here at the DL that can compile this (a la Post Secret) into a book? Perhaps a part of the sales can go into youth GLBT services.
- I haven't been on DL long, but this is the best thread ever.
My story isn't all that interesting...I didn't even fully come out to myself until I was around 27. By then, I was living in a larger city, but I knew eventually people from my home town would find out and it would get back to my parents. I went to see my mom one day to tell her and I chickened out. She asked if there was something I wanted to tell her. I said yes but couldn't get it out. She put her hand on mine and asked "Do you want to tell me you're gay?" I burst into tears...probably one of the biggest emotional releases I've ever had. She told me she'd known for a long time, but never wanted to say anything until I was sure myself, and that their was nothing I could ever do to make her not love me.
Unfortunately, she passed away a couple of years later, but I'm so glad she knew the "real me" before she died. Everything wasn't honky dorey--she didn't want me telling certain relatives and she didn't really want to know about my boyfriend, but I think she would have come around.
As for my dad, he called me the night I told mom. I had asked her to tell him. He said he'd always known and it was no big deal and he loved me. Said anytime I wanted to talk about it we could...which I never did. Just couldn't bring myself to talk to him about it.
So..fast forward. He remarried a few years after my mom died. Nice lady, who has a gay nephew herself...but she is pretty "churchy" and my dad started becoming that way too. I started hearing from relatives that my dad doesn't know I'm gay. Told them they were crazy because I remember the conversation! I kept blowing them off but one relative took it upon herself to push the issue with him. Not long after that I got a letter from him saying that while he loves me more than any father could love a son, he can't accept my "choice" and included some bible verses. I was pissed and even wrote a great rebuttal letter...but never mailed it. What's the point? He's old now and it's not like he has shunned me. I am not going to change him now and in every other possible way he's always been a great father. My friends say I'm wrong and should force him to accept my BF, but to me it just isn't worth it.
Jeez, get a blog, right? Sorry...I'm chatty when I'm on cold medicine!
- Mom: I always knew it.
Dad: why did you choose this?
This was almost 20 years ago. My dad's comment was coming from what he knew at the time. But he has always been supportive and accepting. And yes, he understands it's not a choice.
- ...it's an evolution. Sometimes some of the people who were thrown the hardest by the news their child was gay can in time become the most supportive.
Then there are the assholes.
Usually religious freaks.
- Mom - "why me"
- "Well, you did used to dance to those Freddie Mercury and Michael Jackson songs when you were little..."
My mom's a dick.
Tell you what tho, I do like the idea of a coming out cake. Really wish I had thought of that at the time.
thats totally my mom. lawd bless the people that can spin ANYTHING to be about THEM.
- In February of freshman year, I decided to write a letter to my parents. I’d tried to come out to them in person over winter break but hadn’t been able to. So I found a cubicle in Bass Library one day and went to work. Once I had something I was satisfied with, I overnighted it to my parents and awaited a response.
They called as soon as they got the letter. They were surprised to learn I was gay, and full of questions, but absolutely rock-solid supportive. That was the beginning of the end of feeling ashamed about who I was.
I still had a ways to go, though. By the end of freshman year, I’d only come out to my parents, my brother and sister, and two friends. One day that summer, my best friend from high school and I were hanging out.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I finally said. “I’m gay.” He paused for a second, looked down at the ground, looked back up, and said, “Me too.”
I was surprised. At first it was funny, and we made jokes about our lack of gaydar. Then it was kind of sad to realize that we’d been going through the same thing all along but hadn’t felt safe enough to confide in each other.
- Isn't there a difference between public fisting and a guy in a costume?
- R574 here I was posting in the thread about the embarrassing gay pride freak and somehow it ended up here.
DL posts all fucked up right now
- The female version
- r572 deserves to be disowned by his family, then be beaten to a bloody pulp by homophobes, then die a slow and painful death. That is all.
- Thanks for clarifying, r575.
For a while there I was trying to picture a sweet mother from Tuscaloosa, AL sitting there serving iced tea in her house dress, asking about fisting and costumes.
- wtf r577??
- My dad said "That's cool," and told me about a gay male couple who were best friends with him and his second wife. They had been together for 25 years at that point (eventually, they were together 47 years when one of them died). So he was supportive.
My mother was, too - she's of the "love your children, period" school. She asked me if I could be happy (being gay), and I said yes, and she said "Then I'm happy." She's been known to scope out potential dates for me.
- WHERE to begin?I knew I was "different" from a very young age. My folks divorced when I was 5, I was brought up by my Mom's mom, when Mom went out to work. Always the shy, inside kid, bookish, no sports. No friends either, I remember attending exactly ONE party while in elementary school. Only dated twice in high school, of which one was the Senior Prom. High school was dreary, no bullying fortunately. Had jobs from when I was 12yo, went into the military at 18. Always lusted after guys, but never acted on it, Catholic guilt's a bitch. At age 23, came out to my brother, who said he always knew, and was totally cool about it. The rest of my family as well, my Granma was VERY supportive. They all loved the guy I had met. Mom;however, was quite a different story. I told her everything over a dinner in a restaurant, then we went back to the apartment I shared with my lover. She let loose a volley of invective so vicious I burst into tears, and thought"This is the end of my life." Told me I was sick; needed to see a doctor/psychiatrist; not to tell anyone, ever; and not to come around to the house anymore. She blamed my father, stating"He screwed me,(via divorce) and now YOU'RE doing the same." A week later I called to see how she was doing, and she acted as if we'd never had any cross words, which implied that my lover was invisible.I wanted so much to smooth things out, and thought she'd come around sooner or later, that I complied with whatever her new demands were. So for NINE YEARS I was the dutiful son: called frequently; was with her for special occasions; tried not to open old wounds. It killed me, but I did it. After 9 years, I couldn't take it anymore- I delivered an ultimatum. Told her she had ONE MONTH to reconsider how she had treated me, and if she didn't change her tune, and meet my partner, then, our relationship was done. She never called. We didn't speak in all that time. My partner and I were invited for holiday dinners and birthdays, which Mom very carefully sidestepped(my partner would leave early, of his own volition, so my Mom could show up to enjoy SOME of the "festivities"). This went on for another NINE YEARS. All the while I knew my entire family was "working " on her, trying to make her come around. A week prior to a Thanksgiving, she called to invite me to dinner. I asked if this included my partner, and she said, "Of course", as if the previous 9 years had never happened. I readily accepted, and for the first time in 18years, really enjoyed a holiday as a complete family. She got to know my partner, and grew to love him. She eventually would tell him things she never would've told me. They chatted frequently. When she became ill(cancer) it was my guy who got her around to all her doctors and chemo appt's. She died a few years later, never having discussed anything of substance with me. It pained me grievously to know how much she denied me the pleasure of enjoying her company all those years. She was a real "capo duro"(Italian for: hard head) Mom, you should've let us in.
- Nothing. I told them via email that I wanted them to meet my girlfriend when they came to visit the country (we live some 2000 miles apart). They never replied. Eventually they did meet 3 years later, at my sister's wedding (a lesbian wedding as well).
We don't speak much.
- This thread is such a good read.
- Mother: Silence, Later that night she told me that she didn't want me to get AIDS.
This was from a woman who's sister was a lesbian with a lot of gay friends and in fairness I knew a lot of the men I knew when I was still young died of AIDS. I remember when I realized that one in particular who was on the opposite side of duplex that my and and her lover shared was actually giving his stuff away because he was dying not moving. He gave me his Atari, and Daddy a lot of tools and stuff.
Father: I don't care who your with, I just want you to be happy.
- more, please. but paragraph breaks, please.
- Right after I told her, my mom look me up and down, took a drag of her Winston and asked, "And you still think that white belt goes with those corduroys, do you?"
- "Cool. Do you want to come over for lunch? What kind of sandwiches do you guys want?"
- "Pass the spaghetti."
- mom: first words: "i thought you wanted children?", then "but you're so squeamish- do you even enjoy it?" (referring to anal sex, i explained that it was possible to be gay, and just do other things, because she was right- i was squeamish about it).
dad (6 months later, so they'd talked): "can't say i am happy about this, but i guess i've always known. just promise me you won't walk down the street holding hands with your boyfriend- i don't want you to get beat up."
- It's still hard to understand to this day as I had brought my BF home for Thanksgiving for a few years. It wasn't discussed, though, and they were always nice to him.
On the day I actually used the word "gay" in 1982 my mother ran to their bedroom and began sobbing. My father exclaimed, "You're breaking your mother's heart!"
I was seventeen in 1998 when I decided to come out to my parents. I didn't know how they would react, but I couldn't hide any more. I wanted to be free and I was tired of living a lie.
Mom: "Are you SURE? Maybe it's just a phase."
Me: "Yes, mom--I'm sure and it's not just a phase."
Mom: * pause * "Oh....ok. Your Dad will be home soon. I'll make coffee."
----about 30 minutes later----
Mom: "Dear, Brian thinks that he's gay."
Me: "I don't THINK I'm gay--I KNOW I'm gay!"
Dad: "No shit, Sherlock! I figured that out when you were eight years old and I saw you twirling your sister's baton to a Gloria Estefan song!"
Yeah--I guess my parents took it in stride and a lot better then I'd thought. Overall, I was pretty lucky. I still have a hunch that I've let them down, but they've always been very supportive of me and have always welcomed my partners into their home.
- I came out at 14 and was kicked out. I lived in the woods behind my parent's house.
I slept over at friends' from time to time. I was a nice kid. Never hurt anybody. Guys at school would take turns raping me.
Then my friend's parents kicked me out. Said they didn't want a homosexual druggie living in their house.
I then began hustling all over the US. I wound up in Florida. Met a nice guy named Johnny.
To take care of Johnny I began hookin all over south Florida. He had expensive taste and liked to paaaarty.
Then I met a John who raped me and beat the fuck out of me. I killed him. I shot with his gun that dropped out of his glove-box. Then I went on a killing-spree killing guys here and there. Then I got caught. I always felt bad for what I did, but then not really.
I'm now sitting here on Death Row in Florida.
I'm 38 now.
I was raped and beat to fuck since I was a kid and I'm the one being punished! How fucked up is that? I let the judge and jury have it, though. I told the judge to go to hell and I told the jury I hope their sons get anally raped.
But, I'll be back! Like Jesus in Independence Day! I'll be back!
Inmate # 36543
Death Row inmates have Internet access?
- in spite of a few trolls like r594, this is the best thread on the datalounge in ages. let's go for thread 2.
- r587, Please tell more stories about your mom. i think i love her.
- My mother died when I was 8 but her brother, my uncle, said she always knew I was gay. It was obvious when I was 4.
I came out to my dad and siblings when I was 23. I told them over the phone. My sister got real quiet and said. "We always suspected. But it's one thing to suspect and another thing to hear it." She came around and was very supportive.
My brother laughed maniacally and said, "I know, I read your diary when we were kids."
My dad cried. Said, "I was afraid of that." He said the fear made him drink and the possibility that I was gay caused him to get a DUI. He has since sobered and wised up.
- Jesus Christ!
- To be continued here: