A feeling of curiosity and restraint, a somewhat unsuspicious amalgam signaling discovery comes back to visit day after day; like pictures from a past self. You try to avoid the thought of it, deny it even, but every year that goes by, the familiar feeling of relief that postponement used to bring, dies out; the stench of its corpse becoming all the more intoxicating. Your shoulders grow heavier by the minute, and with nowhere to seek solace corruption begins. Anger, sadness and shame pummel you into a corner, and the boundaries that once held these emotions in place start to blur. You find yourself in a fragile state, constantly aggrieved and illegitimately spiteful towards everything and everyone. You feel helpless and your emotions, which were once denizens housed in your psyche, are let loose like vengeful hounds on a bitter journey.
These, fortunately and unfortunately, are a few of the thoughts that stooped through my mind, after I had realized I was gay. I say fortunately because this experience has connected me with more people than I could have ever imagined, but it is still unfortunate because some people are not as lucky, and many continue to feel like misfits in their own homes. I understand the fear and hardships that coming out entails. Even so, I am convinced that the only way to be at peace with oneself is to be honest, first to yourself and then to others.
I know in many cases the whole episode of coming out is difficult, this is especially true for those who live in countries, societies, and families that hold ‘’traditional beliefs’’ in terms of who and how to love. This could be applied to my situation. You see, I live in a country whose population, in its majority, are catholic; adding to this is the fact that it is a place where homosexuality is not widely discussed. I don’t mean to say that people who practice Christianity, or Catholicism more specifically, are necessarily against homosexuality as a whole, but the majority of people who practice these faiths do not see homosexuality as a form of love in itself, but rather as a sinful act.
Where I live my ‘’condition’’ is widely unknown by some, and simply disregarded by others. I remember dismissing the feelings I had for other men due to the unfathomable consequences it would bring in the future. I always thought that as a man I had to fulfill the prescribed duties that my society expected of me; everything from having a wife and children, to acting like a tough guy and hiding my emotions. This of course, only adds to the dread one already feels as a teenager.
I clearly remember the day I came out to my family. I was 16 at the time and it was a family reunion, the sort of reunion where after 7 o clock the children would grow bored of the adults talking and would simply head upstairs to do whatever we teenagers do. But in this particular instance I stayed and listened, and after some hour and a half of politics, the subject of homosexuality somehow emerged from the conversation. It was not an entirely well minded conversation, my uncle was the first to give his verdict on the subject, by stating that the whole thing was an unnatural way to live, it seemed that most of the people present agreed with him, because shortly after he finished everybody else was eager to take a swat at the homosexual ‘’agenda’’, and ‘’lifestyle’’; it all ended with a comment on how gay people should simply be put in islands and left to their own demise. I was, of course, simply appalled, merely because the one positive thing that my ‘’closet years’’ gave me were countless hours on the internet studying homosexuality. So I immediately realized that nobody present in that room had ever read anything about sexual orientation. Up to that moment in the evening, I had nothing that could have been considered, in my mind, worthy enough to warrant an intervention on my part, but in that moment I was suddenly aware that I was obliged to speak up. Unfortunately my emotions got the best of me and before I knew it I was standing up and shouting at everybody present. I said that homosexuality was not a thing that anybody should be ashamed of and that it was completely normal to be attracted to someone of your same sex, and that if homosexuals are too dangerous and corruptive to be around, I was living proof that they were mistaken, since I myself was gay; I then abruptly starting sobbing because I knew that I had failed in trying to make my point, especially because I lost my temper, but more importantly I realized that I had just come out, there was no going back. After this whole debacle everybody was left speechless, nobody dared say anything to me, so I dragged myself up the stairs and retreated to my bedroom.
Two hours later I had finally come to terms with what I had done, and forgiven myself for being so hot headed. In spite of this I was still enraged, I felt like my anger was more than legitimate, I had spent hours looking at videos of people coming out and sharing their own personal stories, being touched and moved by every single one whilst admiring their courage, that I had come to the conclusion that it was outrageous for someone to simply dismiss something that is clearly love, with hurtful and unthoughtful comments. I then heard a knock on my door, it was my parents. They sort of escorted me downstairs to the living room, which was still filled with other family members. What happened next was entirely surreal; they sat me down and took turns to apologize, say that they loved me and then ask questions, more general than intimate in nature, but what astounded me the most was their willingness to hear me out, to catch a glimpse of how life is through my eyes. The rest is history, some family members I still keep in touch with but others have simply latched on to their own beliefs and proceeded to erase me from their lives. It was hurtful and continues to be, but the relief and happiness I felt after telling them who I was, is an irreplaceable feeling, and looking back I would not change a thing.
Four years later I now better understand the importance of that moment. I came to understand that the only way to help others through this unnecessary process of coming out, is by sharing. I myself was inspired by people on the internet; strangers describing their feelings, their fears, and their lives. That is why I decided to write this, and try to do my part by sharing. Sometimes it is not easy, but the only way to live free is to be true to oneself. That is why I encourage coming out, do not lay to waste the sacrifices and hardships that other LGBT people around the world have made, stand by them so that the courage of countless people and valiant efforts of others are not made and spent in vain. It is up to us to break away our own small orifice of hope, in every smog filled cloud. There is still much to be done from Uganda to Russia and from Brazil to India, the battle for respect and equality has only just begun. Be you gay or straight, a supporter or not, it is undeniably clear that the wheels of change have been put in motion; by every courageous person that has not only put their lives at risk by coming out, but have also wagered the supposedly undying and unconditional love of family and friends, promised from birth to tomb.
Millions still suffer from solitude and prejudice, and we should honor and defend them, place ourselves in their shoes. This silly but tragic incident that now stains our history as a civilization will come to an end, and be remembered as only one more of the countless mistakes we have made. As human beings, accepting and rejoicing are not obligatory, but kindness and love are a must. I long for the day that we finally acknowledge sexual orientation for what it truly is: a form of love. I can only hope to do my part, as little as it may be, and hopefully live long enough to witness the incredible final result that our joint efforts will bring. If all goes right, that dreadful closet that comes across as a coffin, will have outlived its use.