As it turns out, there are a lot of things I want to say... I really want/need to say, but I just can't get myself to say them. Some of them are fears, joys, confessions, love confessions, random comments, random jokes, sexy remarks... whatever... it's just too much. For example, this morning, as every good kid coming from a broken marriage, every Sunday I go out, along with my bro and sis, with my Father. All day long I just kept thinking I should tell him I'm gay... and all day long my head was constantly overflowing with concerns, doubts and possible ways/moments in which to tell him. I just couldn't! Coming out is seriously, massively, incredibly scary!
I remember when my Mum found out. Oh, those oh-so-happy days... NOT! I didn't tell her, I didn't insinuated trying her to figure it out, hell, i didn't even want her to find out! I was only 14, barely entering freshman year at High school, and I had a huge, and I really mean HUGE crush on this guy. I'll make reference to him as "MrGladiator". Well, MrGladiator had an identical twin brother, they were both seniors and -apparently- I was the only one that could tell the differences (slight as they were) between them. My love had a tiny scar in his left forearm, slightly fuller lips and heavier eyebrows, he had a different spring in his step, he was left handed and was an awesome sketcher. His brother, on the other side, had a lazy eye, was generally tougher and was a bit of an ape. He even walked like an ape. I knew everything about my MrGladiator and he knew far too well that I fancied him. I never really got the nerve to actually talk to him in person, even if I did send a bunch of letters and even a CD with every song that reminded me of him. Pa.The.Thic. I know... About these letters! That was how Mum found out. I wrote a letter for him, but it wasn't finished, so I didn't even tore the sheet out of the notebook. The notebook was inside a binder, inside a drawer, inside a small locker in the insides of my closet. My very, very crowded closet. To this very day it's still a mystery to me how she found it. Mothers... Well she found it and even if it didn't have his name or was addressed to him in any recognizable way, u could tell it was for a guy, so she freaked out. It was quite a scene! She summoned me into my own room, asked me to lock both doors and play some music. She sat on the bed, and I could already tell this was SO not going to be good. She started by telling me she had found out some of my written pieces and that she loved them, what a good writer I was and how very sensible and sweet i was. Then the monster took over her. She asked me to open the closet, I did, to open the locker, I did, to open the drawer, I did, to take out the binder and bring it to the bed, I did, to open it and extract the notebook, I did, to look for the "love letter", I didn't. FUUUUUCKKKK!!!! She started calmly asking me if I felt attracted to other males, if I had ever kissed a guy, I had gone all the way with a guy, all of them questions left unanswered, I just couldn't speak. Then she started yelling at me. About how that would ruin my whole future, how it would embarrass her, how I was going to die from a horrible disease, how gay people are sick and so on. Then she cried hard for about an hour, still rambling about how evil gays are. Then she started sweetly telling me i needed help, that I was lacking a paternal, masculine figure in my life, that it was all her fault and that she would fix it. I found myself at a loss for words.
She, of course took me to see a shrink (3 times, actually) and after everyone told her she was going to have to accept it or just learn to live with it, she declared that shrinks were stupid and biased, that they surely were all gay themselves and trying to pervert me.
To this very day, she can't accept it, mention it, hear of it and I'm afraid, not even think of it.
So I guess u understand why it is so hard for me to even think about coming out to my father... Although he always surprises me with his reactions (I'll give him that much). So... I guess I'll sleep on it... suggestions? PLEASE? LOL
I remember when my Mum found out. Oh, those oh-so-happy days... NOT! I didn't tell her, I didn't insinuated trying her to figure it out, hell, i didn't even want her to find out! I was only 14, barely entering freshman year at High school, and I had a huge, and I really mean HUGE crush on this guy. I'll make reference to him as "MrGladiator". Well, MrGladiator had an identical twin brother, they were both seniors and -apparently- I was the only one that could tell the differences (slight as they were) between them. My love had a tiny scar in his left forearm, slightly fuller lips and heavier eyebrows, he had a different spring in his step, he was left handed and was an awesome sketcher. His brother, on the other side, had a lazy eye, was generally tougher and was a bit of an ape. He even walked like an ape. I knew everything about my MrGladiator and he knew far too well that I fancied him. I never really got the nerve to actually talk to him in person, even if I did send a bunch of letters and even a CD with every song that reminded me of him. Pa.The.Thic. I know... About these letters! That was how Mum found out. I wrote a letter for him, but it wasn't finished, so I didn't even tore the sheet out of the notebook. The notebook was inside a binder, inside a drawer, inside a small locker in the insides of my closet. My very, very crowded closet. To this very day it's still a mystery to me how she found it. Mothers... Well she found it and even if it didn't have his name or was addressed to him in any recognizable way, u could tell it was for a guy, so she freaked out. It was quite a scene! She summoned me into my own room, asked me to lock both doors and play some music. She sat on the bed, and I could already tell this was SO not going to be good. She started by telling me she had found out some of my written pieces and that she loved them, what a good writer I was and how very sensible and sweet i was. Then the monster took over her. She asked me to open the closet, I did, to open the locker, I did, to open the drawer, I did, to take out the binder and bring it to the bed, I did, to open it and extract the notebook, I did, to look for the "love letter", I didn't. FUUUUUCKKKK!!!! She started calmly asking me if I felt attracted to other males, if I had ever kissed a guy, I had gone all the way with a guy, all of them questions left unanswered, I just couldn't speak. Then she started yelling at me. About how that would ruin my whole future, how it would embarrass her, how I was going to die from a horrible disease, how gay people are sick and so on. Then she cried hard for about an hour, still rambling about how evil gays are. Then she started sweetly telling me i needed help, that I was lacking a paternal, masculine figure in my life, that it was all her fault and that she would fix it. I found myself at a loss for words.
She, of course took me to see a shrink (3 times, actually) and after everyone told her she was going to have to accept it or just learn to live with it, she declared that shrinks were stupid and biased, that they surely were all gay themselves and trying to pervert me.
To this very day, she can't accept it, mention it, hear of it and I'm afraid, not even think of it.
So I guess u understand why it is so hard for me to even think about coming out to my father... Although he always surprises me with his reactions (I'll give him that much). So... I guess I'll sleep on it... suggestions? PLEASE? LOL
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