Coming out...

This is a bit of a self-indulgent post, but I just wanted to get this off my chest.

I'm not sure why I started thinking about this, but today, I was ruminating on last year's events, specifically my coming out. It's one question I can guarantee will be asked on every date..."So why did it take you so long to come out?". The answer I always give goes something like this..."It wasn't until I was 28 that I had my first experience with a guy and it took me several years to come to terms with my sexuality - to feel comfortable within myself and then to build up the courage to actually face the world and say I'm gay. I come from a very conservative Christian family as well and I knew that they would react badly to my coming out and so that was also a factor in the delay from when I first knew until I actually came out".

And that is the truth. But I was also thinking that whilst those external factors were there, it also was because I lacked the courage to do so. I was scared about disappointing my family and friends, and I was terrified of losing them as well, because I did know with absolute conviction that they would react the way they have. I was also being a bit selfish, because I had a good "straight" life, had lots of friends, was enjoying life, whilst at the same time still indulging occasionally in a bit of man loving on the sly. So I had the best of both worlds. I felt I wasn't hurting anyone so it didn't matter, but with the wisdom of hindsight, I realize now that I was hurting not only my family and friends, but also myself. I re-read an email that one of my closest friends sent me after I told him and I think it sums it up...

"I'm feeling angry, and hurt: I'm feeling angry with myself: I can't help think that I didn't try hard enough to get to the inner core of Monty, to find out what really made him tick, to see past the veneer and to boldly push through those tough outer defences. I'm annoyed because whilst N (another close mutual friend of ours) and I often discussed their existence, we often found it too difficult to scale the walls. I wonder if we'd made more of an effort, things may have been different. I'm feeling puzzled and disoriented, and perhaps a little cheated: the Monty I thought I knew is just the tip of a much larger iceberg which I know lurks beyond the surface but cannot be seen: and I feel like I'll never see it. That's a disconcerting feeling because generally speaking, we bared our soul to you and only got so much back: I feel like you've stared at us all through a keyhole and we've just seen an eye glinting back at us."

I know I did put up walls...it was the only way I could keep the two sides of my life separate; the only way I could avoid losing it all. But in the end, I have left lots of hurt family and friends behind because of my deception. This I cannot do anything about - what is done is done. I do regret the hurt I caused.

But it's one thing I have learned - and it's something I suppose all of my current friends see - I'm very open about my life now. Sometimes too much, I think, but I would prefer they know me warts and all, than knowing just the tip of the iceberg. (though an iceberg is not how I would describe myself...I would like to think that I'm a bit warmer than that)

I remember whenever I considered the issue of coming out, my stomach would be in knots...just the thought of losing all my friends and family made me physically ill. I considered trying to do it step by step, doing it in stages. I thought about not telling my family...it wouldn't be a difficult thing to conceal really -they live thousands of kilometres away and Mark, my brother, has managed it successfully for the past 17 yrs or so. But, when it came down to it, I knew that I would have to do it all in one fell swoop. I couldn't do it in stages, because I know that it would've allowed me to back out if I wanted. I knew that when I came out, I would literally HAVE to burn my bridges to prevent me backing out. And so, that's what I did. I came out to the my family, my friends, my church, work, the world, all in the space of about a month. It was a killer, but I survived it. And since then, I've realized that I'm much stronger than I thought. I feel rather proud of the fact that I was able to muster up the courage to tell everyone; that I've been able to rebuild my social life; that I've been able to gather a nice group of friends around me. I've really enjoyed the past few weeks since returning from overseas and am looking forward to a fantastic summer (well, as long as this flipping rain stops).