John

Hey im John and this is my story.

 I first admitted I was gay to myself when I was 13, and I came out when I was 16. I love my life, at least I did up until now but more about that later. I used to spend a relaxing day at school, breezing through lessons with ease and making lots of friends in my middle school. But as soon as I started to question my sexuality I was put into year 7 in a big new school, a year group of 300 none of which I knew.

So doing what came naturally I approached boys in the school with hope of friendship but to no avail, they had all transferred from different schools and already had their friend groups. Failing boys I turned to girls, I made friends with a few girls (literally, 3 of them lol) and I developed from there.

I'm very extrovert when I talk and generally I will say exactly what I am feeling, even when I don’t know if I am saying it. In my first year I felt isolated and alone, even though I had some friends, out of school I never met up with them. I turned to something which I will never regret and I recommend everyone should do. Cycling and Free running. When I was trapped in a rut no friends I would go into town, pretending to myself that I might see people that I would have the courage to talk to and make some new friends, instead I loafed around town by myself doing nothing. There was a free running display and from there I have blossomed into high impact sports. I love the freedom you get, running in town with no obstacles or cycling out of town on country roads for miles on end.

Year 8 loomed on me and I was amazed, I thought no one was going to talk to me and my year would continue until I got severe depression and topped myself on a big jump. But in the middle of history class, on the right hand side desk, near the front, I got a note from the boy sitting next to me; I still remember what it said. “You have beautiful eyes”. At first I thought this was a joke, no-one in the whole school in my year was gay so I thought this was some sort of test going round the “in” crowd making fun of the socially retarded nerd. But I went with it, and followed my instincts. I had a girlfriend but it never really worked, I said I fancied her but inside I had always fancied this guy, sitting next to me, in history, telling me that I have beautiful eyes! I’m not going into what happened but we had a 3 month secret relationship before we called it off, we were getting noticed and we decided it was for the best. That was the happiest term of my life, nothing could go wrong and I was popular(ish) (I got to talk to the “in” crowd). But after we broke Up I was lost again and for the next years I suffered from being shunned out of the picture and kicked about because people at my school thought I was gay. By then I thought that because I didn’t think about girls and only boys, I was gay and no amount of self denial could stop me.

I spent most of the rest of my years at that school loafing around, getting good grades and getting more friends that were girls. But the bullying didn’t stop; it’s amazing how many words for gay you can come up with if you truly hate us. I decided that I could not stay at that school for sixth form; the teachers were too scared to come forward and had no experience in talking about gay issues. Our sex ed talks didn’t even mention gay at all, so I was entering into a world that was scary with no one to help me, I was too scared to tell my parents. So carrying on with what I did best I worked hard to find another school to go to for sixth form. And suddenly on telly at 9pm an advert for a big college came up (I cannot name it because of the sensitive nature of my views), and it showed a mature school with people who wanted to be pushed intellectually and wanted to join the forces. With nothing to stop me I joined up, but when I got my acceptance which I had to work hard training every night for, I decided that I would not make the same mistakes I did in my old school. Everyone was new so I had an opportunity to make friends.

I tried as hard as I could to act straight, I really did, I joined in with looking at Nuts magazines and making jokes about girls but it was only a matter of time before I was “outed” at college, by a spiteful person from my old school sending me something inappropriate that was “gay”. Being a boarding school my head of house found out and we had a few chats, so much more supportive and better at understanding me that other teachers, I can really trust him with everything (except a few things). So from there I decided that because of the apparent maturity of the people in college I would come out, and maybe, being a school of 300 or so, I might not be alone. But I was, and people are not as mature as you think.

That leads me onto now, a year of not abuse, but neglect of a sort, it was worst when there was a meal, if I went in front of everyone or in the middle, they would ignore me where I sat down and sit somewhere else, I can still see their stares from the other tables, as a boy, alone sitting on a large table with 2 benches, enough for about 15 but only one boy sitting there. If I went at the back they would make sure they had a full table so I would have to sit somewhere else and the pattern repeated and still does to this day. You never get over that type of bullying, it’s worse than being beaten up, I could take that, or name calling, and it’s just the move away and stare. Even if I sat down with half a table of people, they would move away; and there was nothing I could do. So I decided that if I were to eat less I would be alone for a less amount of time, and it worked-ish, im less alone now, but it still hurts when people who were my friends move/sit away from me because of who I am.

I look forward to the future; I am not sure whether to talk about my less of eating because it has stated to have an effect, so I am forcing more stuff down now. It is near the end of my first year, so maybe next year there might be another gay person join, it’s a long shot but you never know. I just look forward to finishing school for good and getting into the real world where I can mix with gay people and finally socialise without holding back everything. The best thing to do when you are in a rut is do exercise, squash is really good for getting rid of aggression, or a run, or even just writing a letter or telling someone (that is hard but worth it). Looking back I would not have changed anything, im now out and proud and I don’t care what people think of me, im happy as I am.

John

(back to top)

Charley

I am a seventeen year old bi guy I just found out that my friends accept
me, both straight guys and girls.

I recently told my younger brother and older sister that I'm bi and it turns out my sister is too.  That was such a relief to have an older sister to be there for you.  I also claim the title
of uber-virgin, which means never had first kiss or anything of the sort and
never had a boyfriend/girlfriend.  Now how I came out...   

See I am not the type of person that would seem bi or gay just a completly
staight guy that is big in the arts.  So when I went through a time when I
was "emo" my friends knew something was up.  They were confused at how I was
behaving and they were also very scared and started fighting with eachother.
Mean while I was deeply confused myself because I was in LOVE yes I was in
love with my best guy friend without meaning to be.

I blamed myself for their fighting and I was actually nearing the point of suicide because I
could not stand the fact that I was bi and my best friend(who is completly
straight) could never be together.  Eventually he worked up the courage to
set me down over a period of a month and talk to me and finally got out that
I was bi and then told me not to worry that he will always be my friend.

He then had me tell the rest of my friends that I was bi and I was completly
surprised that they took it well.  None of them will ever know that I love
him.      

What I am trying to say is that you can come out to your friends
thats what theyre there for!  Do not ever think that suicide is the answer
it is never the answer.  There is so much to live for. Stay Strong!

Charley

(back to top)

Anonymous

As I grew up, my parents instilled the vision of me growing up with a beautiful women, settling down and having kids. As I neared the double digits, I realized that what my parents were saying weren't true. I started getting weird dreams, such as me being with another male. It didn't phase me at the time because I was still young, but I was growing to be a gay man.

 I started having wet dreams about two weeks later. They weren't "occasional" either. I'd get them every night, and I would be embarrased to tell people. I usually covered it up. As I turned 10, I started to notice the "pleasure" of erections. I started to play with my penis, for no reason.

 As I got to age 12, I noticed myself lusting other men. I wanted to be with a man. The thought of being held by a manly figure just gave me that rush. By then, I knew I was gay.

Now, at 14, men are what I live for. I wake up, go to school, come home, and chill, but there's times, for example, when I'm at school and I get to day dreaming and before you know it, I have an erection, and as embarrasing as it seems, I walk around campus and I pray no one's looking. I masturbate once or twice every night to gay porn.

 There's many guys at my school who I would have sex with. It just seems that they could give a rat's butt of what is happening between me and them. They lead me on not knowing that I really do like them. It kind of hurts sometimes.

 I recently came out to my mum. It was a burning feeling inside. I shared it to my friends and my most trustful friend told me to tell my mum; she said that I need to so that I don't have to fake my life at home, where I'm supposed to feel welcomed. I told my mom and she wanted to know all the details: who I liked, how old they were, their names, all that stuff. I flat out told her and she was okay with it. I had her tell my dad. He was fine with it AFTER about a week.

Now, life's good. The only people who don't know that are in my life are my mum's boyfriend and my dad's girlfriend. I normally don't just tell everyone I'm gay when I meet someone new. I usually tell them within the first week though.

For all of you who are reading this, there's one thing you have to know. The sooner you come out, the better you'll feel about yourself, but only if you're sure. Life is not an easy thing. Sure, people will make fun of you, but as long as you love yourself, you're fine. Believe in love; believe in life. It's just on rollercoaster ride.

Anonymous

(back to top)

Michael

Well, to be honest, this is a hard thing to write. Not because I'm coming out, I already am, but because it's hard to figure out the words.

I've always known I was gay, from a very young age. But I was unable to come out for many many years. Firstly, the town I've grown up in. Homosexuality isn't an greatly accepted thing. If you had the courage to tell the world you were gay, you were guaranteed snide remarks and dumb insults. Seeing that didn't make me want to tell the world.

Secondly, and this is closly connected to the first one, bullying. During the entire time I was at school I was bullied: called queer, gay boy, fudge packer; and I hadn't told anyone. You see, when it comes to having friends, I find myself able to connect with girls, more than guys. So obviously, when people saw this, they narrow-mindedly made assumptions, and I became a target.

For many years I dealt with it. Snide comments, threats, people making a fool of me at any given moment. Each time, my confidence lowered to the point I never wished to return to school. I even started dating girls, just so people would leave me alone, although I never had sex with them. I would make up stories to make myself sound straight, and I would hope that everyone would take the hint, and leave me be. But still, no-one would.

High school was the worst time for me. New people, new torments. It didn't take long for people to learn that i was the ongoing joke, or victim. It was like being thrown into the lions den; and throughout all of this, I was struggling to come to terms with my sexuality. I wasn't sure if this was a phase, if maybe their constant taunts had finally embedded the thought that I must be this way because they say I am. I kept going on, dealing with their remarks, with the bullying.

Then came 2001, the year I would leave High School, and leave the bullying behind. By this time, I was growing more sure that I wasn't going through a phase; i was becoming more aware that these feelings I had for other men were just as natural as anything else. I came to terms with my sexuality the summer after I finished High School.

But now the tough part came...telling my family.

I knew I had to have a test run with one of my trusted friends. I told her and she simply said "I've known this for years. I've just been waiting for you to tell me yourself." TO be honest, even though everyone tormented me in school, calling me queer etc. her reaction still surprised me. So now I knew it was time to tell my family.

It turned out to be easy, they all accepted it, and drummed off the usual "we already knew" line. But still, everything had changed. You'd think that a huge weight is lifted, but really, its replaced my a feeling of strangeness, like you are getting to know people again. When you are able to be yourself, people are getting to know a different you, and so forth you are with them.

It wasn't until 2005 that I came out of the closet to the world. For the last 4 years, I had begged my family not to tell anyone. Even though I was able to be myself with them, I was unable to be myself to everyone else. But this time I gave myself a fake life, I never made up girlfriends, because I finally knew that I didn't want that. So I lived my life, going on with my business, occasionally making sure no-one found out about myself.

Then I met Darran. In 2005 I had found a place to be myself...chat rooms. I met Darran, who lived over 300 miles aways, and I felt a connection. We would chat everyday, and a few months after chatting, we finally met. From the moment I saw him I knew I wanted to be with him, so from that moment on, he was my boyfriend. I know what you might be thinking...how can a long distance relationship work? Well all I can say is...it did. For 6 months. He would come to my house and stay for weeks, and then journey back home for a few days then return. But still, I hid the relationship. I wasn't ready for people to know. Darran wanted to be able to hold my hand in public, but whenever he tried to, I would pull away and make a joke about it, just to lighten the mood.

Then, somehow it happened; I came out. I seriously have no idea how it happened. It was during the last month of my relationship with Darren, and a friend of my brothers came to the house. I was waiting for call Darran, and I just wished the friend would leave, but then he said something that stopped me in my tracks. Out of the blue he said "How's your boyfriend?" I was shocked, I asked him how he knew and he simply replied, to my annoyance, "everyone knows." He went into further detail, explaining that everyone had known for months. From that moment on, everyone knew. I was out to the world, and i never had to say a word. It was a great relief, i was finally able to be myself. Sadly, my relationship with Darran ended a few days later. I was unable to handle his behaviour towards me, he had become demanding, controlling and always looking to pick a fight, I knew it had to end.

So here I am, in 2007, having the chance to live my life. I still am surprised with how people don't treat me badly, about how people still talk to me. These days, if someone called me a Queer, I simply reply, "and your point is?" Having come out has given me a great deal of strength, and even now, people are surprising me. A friend of my brothers wants to actually come out to a gayclub with me. People are wanting to get to know the real me, and I love it!

I just wanted to share my story with you; and to also let you know, people can surprise you, but I am definately not the kind of person to tell you that coming out is the best thing. Do not take this story as a template. Sadly, we don't all get out happy endings, but please, don't find shame in it, and try to be who you are. Don't let anyone else make you think otherwise, we are all normal, and we all deserve a chance to be ourselves.

Michael

(back to top)

Josh

My name is Josh and this is my story.

I found out that I was gay at an early age, around 9 or 10. I luckily had a friend that was experimenting, kinda, at this age to, and I would often spend the night at his house and we would, well, do things together. At first it started out as just me and him, but them he brought friends in that would go with ir for a time or two, then they would quit coming over.

Some of the kids in school started finding out when I was in the 5th grade, but me and my friend kept on denying it and went on with our lives. Some people still didn't believe me, so I started dating girls, because like most families, I grew up in a family that was very homo phobic. I kept doing this until I was 15, but the relations died with my friend about one year after we had started. I currently don't know his orientation, but mine is sure.

The way that i found easy to come out, is by coming out to strangers that you will never see again. This builds up your confidence as a stronger individual and will help coming out to people that are closer to you. I now have a friend that is bisexual and he recently came out to his mother, who  is very strict on her religion, and claims that it is a sin, but accepts her son also. He doesn't like being bisexual, at least that is what I think, but he accepets it as a part of him, and I feel that is the best thing you can do.

When I came out to my parents, I thought it was going to be the end of the world. My Dad had always talked about how he would be the living day lights out of any of me and my younger brothers, I am the oldest of the children, if we were to ever tell him that we were gay.

I first came out to one of my best friends Sheryl, who stayed up with me that night. I spent that whole night crying. I then came out to all of my friends, and then came out to just about everyone. I changed my orientation on myspace, and then people started asking me if myspace was true, and it is really easy to say 'yeah.'

Then I came out to my brothers. It was really kinda hard for me to come out to them more than my parents because I felt like I was an icon to them, and I didn't want them to look poorly up to me because of this.

Then I came out to my mother. Me and her had been in a raging fight before she asked me, and then me just shouting back to her said "yes!!." From there things went a little out of control and she kicked me out. My Dad found out from my mother, they are divorces, and he accepted it without even thinking about, though my mother lied to him telling him that it was all his fault. He was the last person I thought would ever accept me, and he did. My mother took a little bit longer to come around, she said that I needed therapy and all this other stuff, and then she said it was just a phase that I am going through, and I think she tells herself that just to help her accept me.

But I now I am completely out to everyone, and I currently have a boyfriend, though I don't know if it will last long with the distance. I will be turning 16 here soon, YAY Sweet Sixteen, and I came out almost one year ago, I came out when I was 15. I think that people need to understand that even though you may be scared of what people think, it is a lot easier to accept yourself than it will be for them to accept you. I think that your parents will accept you no matter what, because they are your parents and they will love until you die, no matter what choices you make. And like other kids I got picked on in school, and I sill do sometimes, but I have friends beside me now, that I thought would never be beside me. They help stand up for my cause everyday. Now my town of like 3,000 people have turned around and understand that people are different in this world, and most people have accpeted me into their everyday life.

(back to top)

Chris

It's said that there is a sliding scale when it comes to sexuality. On one end of the scale, a person is completely homosexual, and on the other end a person would be a 100% heterosexual. The points in between are varied according to one's interests and curiosity.

Some people discover that they're gay after years of marriage and after having several children. Some people discover that they have an interest in the same sex after dating members of the opposite sex, and realizing that it just doesn't do it for them. And then there are people like me who knew I was gay at a very young age. I knew my place on that sliding scale when I was probably four years old. I was completely gay. You may ask yourself how could I know about sex at age four. Well, I knew nothing about sex at four, but I did know I was gay, which goes to show that being gay is much more than just a sexual preference.

I spent most of my childhood and adolescent years hiding the fact that I was attracted to the same sex. I was raised in a very small, southern town where most gay people were called queers and faggots, and made fun of. I grew up watching my family and friends looking down on homosexuality, so it's no wonder I kept that part of myself hidden.

As I became older I realized that I couldn't change who I was. My sexuality had become something very personal, and overwhelming at times. I was a very religious person. My faith lead me to believe that being gay would send me straight to hell. That was scary, and a difficult hurdle to get over.

After my introduction to the gay bar and other gay people, I slowly began admitting my sexuality, but I never acted upon it. One day, in my early twenty's, as I sat in the woods not far from the house, I had a serious conversation with God. I told him or her that I was a homosexual and I knew that very soon I was going to act upon it. I extended an invitation to God and asked God to do me a favor. I wanted him or her to take my life before I did anything that would jeopardize my chances of going to heaven. If by accepting my homosexuality and acting upon it, I would be sent to hell, I wanted God to take my life immediately. Just like everyone who lives a religious life, my main goal was to get to heaven, and I didn't want anything to get in the way of that; certainly not my sexuality. It was at this point that I felt the energy of my life start to change.

Shortly after my conversation with God, things really started to move in a different direction. My sister stopped me in my tracks one morning and asked me if I was gay. She had found out that I was gay through one of my nephew's friends. (That's another story all together.) She promised me that nothing would happen to me if I told the truth, and I knew at that very moment that my life had come to a crossroads. If I told her I wasn't gay, then I would have to live a life of lies and deception. If I told her I was gay, I would have to go through the humiliation of my family knowing. I already knew how they felt about gay people and the forecast didn't look good. Right then and there I admitted that I was gay, and have never denied it since. From that point in my life my sexuality foreshadowed every other part of my personality. I told myself that I wasn't going to be ashamed. I didn't want to be ashamed of something I had no control over. I knew that if I anyone ever detected shame, they would take advantage of that and use it to harm me.

Story reproduced with permission from www.madonnaandchris.com.

(back to top)

Peter

i am 41 years old, and was married for 23 years (30 in totla with the same partner, childhood sweat heart) Always knew i was gay, but upbringing/bullying maent for me that being gay was not an option. as i approached 40, certain things in my life, children grown up, age, mid life crisis, if thats something to label it, made me start to examine myself in a more obhective way. i began to question whether i could continue to hide who i really was. had a very happy marriage, being gay was buried deep and kept hidden. i didnt spend most of my marriage wishing i could be with a guy. i just got on with life the best way i could. after a couple of years of torment, depression, self harm and finally alcohol,abuse. i made the decision to "come out to my wife and grown up children. in a nut shell, they were great about it. they were relieved in a way that they now had the answer as to why i had been ill and behaving the way i did. that was 12 months ago and i am still on a journey of discovery. it has been very difficult, i set my self up for dissapointment because i had the preconceived idea that by going to a gay bar, i would be greeted by an open armed "Gay Community"

in short, the last 12 months have been a very slow learning curve that i am still coming to terms with. without being negative i have found it very difficult to gain a network of "gay" friends with whom i could share my experience and possibly get advice from. its very hard to explain where i am in my life i am "at" today regarding to my sexuality. i am very happy that i am "out" and i am very lucky that my immediate family and close friends have been so supportive. from various gay web sites and clubs/bars that i have visited, i am afraid the gay community that i have encountered seems very orientated towards casual sex. having never been single even as a heterosexual man, this is not something that appeals to me.

i finally would like to emphasise that i am an extremely happy and well balanced guy and would always advise anyone that to bury your true sexuality and hide who you trully are will eventually become very unbearable. that is not to say "come out" now. but jusge the right time for themselves and judge whom you tell and when. i have lost 2 friends since i came out (from about 15 including work colleagues), but i have drawn the conclusion that they werent the friends i thought they were.

thanks.

peter

(back to top)

Greg

Hi! My name is Greg, I "came out when I was 21 years old, today I am 49 years old. My story may differ from most, then again, so do I.

To summarize decades of my experience as an out gay man; if I had only known then what I know now, I would have chosen another avenue with greater growth. I will admit coming out is a source of relief over empowerment; however, is not the answer for all.

I have spent the greater part of 28 years of my out gay life trying to find a niche amongst my peers; a niche that does not exist. I am not like the visual majority of gay men I have met, observed, and read about.

The social, sexual, & relationship patterns of my peers have no common ground amongst my core values. Once again, I felt as though I was the odd one out when I found myself having to self medicate in order to be one of the guys.

It is my belief I would have been much better off acknowledging my sexual orientation, possibly sharing it with likeminded and safe souls who crossed my path, and living my life as I had before discovering my attraction.

We live in a day where the love of power dominates over the power of love. Therefore, we are labeled with a broad brush, discounted as damaged goods, and put back on the shelf until needed to wedge people against one another. As we bicker amongst ourselves, we create a diversion taking the focus off of what really matters.

I accept as my truth that once I labeled myself as a gay man, I attached a social stigma and limited myself in many ways. However, as one who lives in the now, I have made a conscious decision to "go in" as opposed to "come out" as I did 28 years ago.

My sexual identity is nobody's business but my own. All those telling you to come out do so for selfish reasons which has nothing to do with you. Why should you stand up for a community that is self-loathing and cannibalizes their own. These are the questions you must ask yourself before announcing to the world what it is you do in bed.

Good luck, you'll need it.

Greg

(back to top)

Rory

Hi, I'm Rory and this is my coming out story.

To begin with, I would just like to say to any teenagers reading that I am only 14, and that age has no real power over when you come out, it's more what you think the people around you will think about you. I have come out very recently and I will admit, it was not easy and certainly terrifying, but I am shocked (in a good way) with how accepting some people can be. I don't think there was an age where I realised I was gay, I just sort of grew into the truth from about the age of four, and tried desperately to hide myself.

I first came out to someone when I was 13, on a trip to Normandy with my school. I decided that it wasn't fair to continue lying to my best friend, Howell, so after much deliberation, I told him. I was fairly certain he wouldn't mind, and that it would not affect our friendship and I was absolutely right. Unfortunately, he was set to change school afterwards to go to boarding school for reasons still unknown to me. I would like to say now that I do not recommend telling seperate people about your homosexuality, because despite the popular belief, it never got easier to tell people for me.

In February 2007 I told my other best friend. He had to take some time to process it, but now the only change in our relationship is that he doesn't talk about girls very much. I have not yet told anyone else in my school, and I am still not sure I will. I personally (and this is just my opinion, you must decide for yourself) believe that I should only tell the people who I can actually see myself growing up with and staying friends beyond school and university. As I said, make up your own mind about whether this is a good idea.

I have not told my parents yet, but they have both said they would have no problem with me if I turned out to be gay, so I am not afraid of telling them, I just want to find the right time and situation. I have told my older half-brother though, who I know is unsure of what to do and how to talk with a gay brother, but we have helped each other through both situations.

I plan to come out to the rest of my family and friends soon, but the small experience I have already makes me feel much more confident and mature about my decisions.

(back to top)

David

My name is David, and I'd like to share a fun and easy way to practice coming out by coming out to strangers.

As we all know, Coming out as a homosexual for the first time can be a daunting experience. It helps to have someone to practice on. The first time I came out was at a bookstore. I bought a gay magazine. Buying a gay book or magazine at your local bookstore is a great way to practice coming out. Letting a stranger in on your secret can be a great thrill. I know it was for me. I could barely contain my nervous excitement as I picked up the latest issue of The Advocate and walked to the counter. The clerk gave me a strange look, smiled to herself and rung it up.

Watching her reaction was a completely new experience. For me it was a chance to be open about my sexuality. It was a chance to tell someone I was gay and see how that felt. Afterwards I was surprised at how easy it was.

Since then I’ve bought several books and magazines with topics ranging from gay sex to same-sex marriage. I’ve received smiles, odd looks, even looks of shock and disgust, but no matter what reaction I receive, I look at it as a positive experience. It’s preparation for what I can expect to encounter in the real world as I become more visible. Thanks to these experiences I’ve learned to deal with some of my nervousness and fear. I’m no longer ashamed to be a homosexual. And that feels wonderful.

(back to top)

Cory

Hi, my name is Cory, and I'm 20 going on 21 in a small tonw of southern Oregon. I have to say that i knew i liked guys since i was 7. That experience I have to say isn't one to be proud about, but I was only a child. It was with a cousin of mine in Arkansas. Anyway, this story is more about my ordeal of coming out than of sex. When I was growing up I was told by my mother and grandmother that being gay was a sin and that homos go to hell. My mother even had soome idea cooked up that gays were the most violent groups in the world. Where she got that I will never know. So, this kept me lying to myself about my sexuality for 9 years. At 11 i invited a friend over and we fooled around, but still I told myself that i was not gay; i couldn't be gay, gays went to hell.
 
It wasn't until I was in the 10th grade that i finally came. First it was to my sister. She was ok with it, better now, but ok with it then. Next I told my mom. It went a little like this: "Hey mom, what if I told you I was gay?" He response was, "You're not are you?" "No, but I am bi." It took her a long time to get over this. Id say about half a year before it became a conversation between us.
 
That same year I heard about another bi youth at my school from a class mate of mine. I went to him, his name was Brandon, and I'll never forget how I asked him. "You're not bi are you?" He sai he was and two days later on a Saturday in October of 2001 he was at my house. He was awesome. I was in so much love with him. I never met anyone like him, but unforunately he only wanted sex. He never gave me his heart.
 
A couple of months later I slept with his 20 year old ex, hooked up with a 22 year old friend of that guy, and finally got with a 30 year old friend of my cousin's grandma.
 
Not until this year of 2006 in the month of April did I finally meet a gut who likes me for me. I love him so much. He's been there for me for so long and would do anything for me, I the same for him.
 
My advice for anyone who doesn't know yet: look in your heart, you do know. It may take a bit of searching, but you'll do it. My motto: You cant choose who you love, so don't try. ]
 
I hope this helped, happy searching world.

(back to top)

Sam

Hi,

My name is Sam and I live in East Lancashire in England.

I first knew I was gay when I was about 13 or so. There was nothing in my life that suggested I was going to turn out this way like preferring to play with girls or anything. It was just that at that age when all the boys at school talked about girls they fancied, I knew I had an eye for boys and used to sneak a look out in the gym and on the playing fields when we did PE. I kept it to myself but later when I was 14 like so many others I fantacised about having a relationship with other boys at school or men I'd seen on the telly or something, when I masturbated (I was a late starter). That's how I definately knew.

My first (and one of only a few) gay encounters I had was with a man I met who lived near me. He had a bit of a reputation but I knew I could trust him to keep it a secret. But my first 'love' was with a man who after a couple of months of 'secret' meetings, tragically died in a car accident. Keeping my emotions to myself so that no-one would ask awkward questions was so hard and I had to go to his funeral with no-one knowing who I was or why I was there - it still hurts to think about it.

I am now 31 years old and still not out. I did try to tell a friend once but sensed that he wouldn't receive the news well so I pulled back. I act straight, talk straight and look straight. But all the time inside is something burning to get out and in this very old fashioned macho small town, I think that the news would go down like a lead balloon.

I'd just like to say that if at all you feel genuinely that you are gay and not going through a phase like a lot of boys do in experimenting, don't be like me. In truth and deep down I am not happy. If you have the courage, let your trusted friends and family know your feelings as I feel it would make life easier later on - and you'll find out who your real friends are. And it is bound to make meeting other like-minded people easier.

Where ever you are and what ever our sexuality, I wish you all the best of luck.

Sam

(back to top)

Lori

My name is Lori, and this is my story.

To me, coming out was a very touchy subject. I wasn't able to fully come out to my mom with complete honesty about my relations with women until I was 37. Ever since elementary school, I had always questioned my sexuality and the way I felt about other girls. I felt the curiosity rising in 5th grade. I began feeling more interest towards the girls in my class than the boys. I caught myself looking at my teachers and girl friends in a way that I knew was wrong and discouraged. I felt like an outcast. Elementary school was rough, but not near as confusing as middle school.

What I can remember the most about middle school is the locker rooms. All those girls, so steamy and glistening with beads of sweat. It was all just too much for me to handle. I found myself looking under the shower curtains while the other girls caressed themselves with towels and bars of soap. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn‚t help it.

There was one girl in particular that caught my attention. Her name was Janie. I swear I watched her take at least three dozen showers in my sixth grade year. I was determined to make friends with this girl, but she was not about to know my full intentions. I began talking to her and sitting with her at lunch. My birthday was nearing, so my mom asked if there was anything special I would like to do. I knew immediately what I wanted to do. I called up Janie and asked if she would like to stay the night at my house. She agreed and the date was set.

After a long night of blowing out candles and opening gifts, it was FINALLY bedtime. Assuming I was not attracted to girls, Janie decided to undress and get into her pajamas right before my eyes. We crawled into bed, and I waited until she had fallen asleep. I started to feel her up. Arms, legs, stomach, chest, and then as I was reaching up her gown, to my unexpected horror, she awoke. She knew my intentions with her and demanded that she leave that very instant.

You would think that I would have been disappointed, but I really wasn‚t. Janie had left so quickly that she left a pair of underwear at my house. I treasured that piece of cloth more than anything I owned. At the beginning of the night I was curious; by morning, I was so allured by Janie‚s underwear, I was positive that I could never be straight.

Although what occurred that night left me very pleased, the kids at school were beginning to wonder. Kids began harassing me, and girls started telling people about how they always noticed my strange stares in the locker room. I felt very embarrassed, and denied everything Janie said about what had happened that night. In an attempt to prove that I was straight, I began dating many high school guys. I would rather be known as the school slut than a dyke.

For a short time, I was able to convince myself I was straight. My freshman year of high school, I was dating a boy named Travis. We had been going out for about 6 months, and I thought I was finally decided with my sexuality. Then, I met a girl name Miley who changed everything. She got me wondering all over again. I wasn‚t sure what attracted me to her. I couldn‚t decided if the feelings I had for her were really as strong as I thought they were, or if it was just the rumors about her being bi that left me intrigued.

Nevertheless we became great friends. Travis even began getting a little jealous of all the time we spent together. Travis was also getting a little irritated with me because of my reluctance to have sex. He had been wanting to for a long time and wasn‚t willing to wait. One night at a party, Travis had far too many beers. He pursued to drag me into the upstairs bedroom where he raped me. I felt humiliated and knew I could never trust men again.

That same night I ran home and called Miley. I told her to come over immediately. I knew she was the only person I could trust enough to tell what happened. I began crying and she embraced me. Everything just felt so right, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do next. We decided to go upstairs to my room. Red hot with passion, we found ourselves undressing one another. Button by button I became more aroused by Miley‚s curvy figure. All clothes off, we leaned in for a kiss. Our lips touched with such a grace that at that very moment I knew I wanted to tear her apart.

After hours of intense romance, we laid in bed, exhausted. We conversed about what we were going to tell our parents: that is, IF we were going to tell them. What about our friends? What would we tell them? Suddenly I realized this might just be too much for me to handle. The next few days were a little awkward, and I tried to keep my distance from Miley. However, I soon realized I could not avoid her for much longer. I constantly longed for her touch and to be with her again. I had a strong feeling that I might be in love with her, and I made the decision that I would have to accept the fact that I was a lesbian. It was the first time I had ever used the word to describe my unusual feelings for women.

I knew I had to tell my mom eventually, the question was how. My mother was very religious and closed minded about the gay lifestyle. I knew they would be angry, but I had no idea how horrible their reaction could truly be until the day I told them. They were furious and immediately demanded that I leave their house. Crying, I showed up at Miley‚s doorstep. Miley confronted her parents about letting me stay with them for a while, for unspoken family issues. Unaware of Miley and my relationship (let alone sexuality), they accepted.

During this time we became closer than ever. We held hands and kissed at school, not caring what others thought about us. The only people we had to keep this from were Miley‚s parents. At this time, sex became an everyday thing, and wound up being a heated addiction. I was so overwhelmed with her love. I had never felt so appreciated. I knew our relationship was a once in a lifetime experience.

Just as I thought things were at their peak, something terrible and unexpected occurred. During a night of intense infatuation, Miley‚s mother appeared at the door and let herself in. I felt my heart sink far into my chest, for I knew we had been discovered. Enraged with disgust, Miley‚s mother threw me out immediately before I even had time to pack my things.

At this time Miley and I were almost out of high school, and decided to move in with some of our close friends who were very accepting of our alternative lifestyles. We remained together through our college years, and decided to become life partners.

I hadn‚t spoken to my mother since the night she had kicked me out of the house. I decided to contact her and inform her that I still wanted her to be a part of my life. As I talked to my mother, I began to realize that she thought that I had just gone through a phase when she decided to kick me out.

I wanted to tell her more and more with each minute of conversation that it was not a phase and that I really was sure that I was a lesbian. I couldn‚t reach the courage to say the words and reluctantly assured her that what she thought was true. For fifteen years I continued lying about my sexuality to my mom. The burden of this dishonesty rose continually as our conversations resumed.

At age 37, tired of the apartment living, Miley and I were now buying a house together. I knew I had no way of keeping this from my mom, who at the time was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. I decided that I would finally make the call.

The phone rang, I knew what I had to do, and with each ring my heart rate increased. My mother answered and my eyes swelled up with tears. My throat cracked and I managed to spill out the words, "Mom, I really am gay. This whole time". I have never felt so relieved in my whole life as I did in that moment. It took time, but my mom finally worked up the strength to accept Miley and my relationship. My mother and I spent the next seven years building our relationship, until she passed away. My only regret is that I hadn‚t told her sooner.

I hope my story can bring both hope and inspiration to those in similar situations.

Lori

(back to top)

Mobius

Well, to send in my part on this subject, it's not something easy to say sometimes.  My name is Mobius, and I came out of the closet about 2 years ago, I'm 18 now.  
 
I have to say the road I took to finding out who I was, was long, confusing, and depressing, as with most cases of homosexuality.  I grew up in a small town, or really, towns, since my mother and I, as well as her boyfriend, moved all around the upper part of Lower Michigan.  Quite strangely in those years, I had for some reason always been attracted to some of the boys I went to school with, like, kintergarden, and first grade, and so on, but I still acted like some little 'pimp' (I suppose is the way to put it) and I would always hang around girls and try to kiss them or whatever.  Anyways yeah, kid stuff, boring.  So I went on, and I moved to this new school by second grade and stayed there till my Junior year until I went to an alternative school.  But let me wind back a little bit.  Back in middle school I had always had girlfriends and crap like that, but it occured to me, I didnt feel any love there, it was just, an empty relationship.  Then of course there was my friend Ty, he had always been one to hang out with me, we would go snowboarding, play paintball, go biking, roller blading, we even went down to Florida on a trip with my parrents for a week together.  I never did mention to Ty that I felt I was begining to like him as more than a friend, because at that age, it was more or less fear that came to me, like, "if I do say something to him, he is not going to want to hang around me at all anymore" or "if he doesnt accept me, or how I feel for him, he might turn it against me, and tell everyone that I'm a fag" so I kept quiet about it, him and his family ended up moving to California soon afterwords, and I have not really kept in contact much with him.  I belive that was my first mistake of not telling him how I felt, but back then it was just what came to my mind.
 
Since that time, I had never really thought about other guys, I just went with what was accepted as "normal" and I tried to date other girls.  One girl that I dated I was with for 2 and a half years, I lost my virginity, yadayadayada, but, again, I didn't feel true love, it was not something I could go on living with, but, I was the kind of person that feels bad after breaking up with someone, so I never broke up with her for the longest time, we just remained more or less, fuck-buddies.  But in that time was where the biggest change in my life came in.  I was meeting new people, not the ones that I was used to seeing every day, and I kept looking at some of them, and in the back of my mind it was like, "damn, he is HOT" then I think again, and I'm like, what am I thinking, thats wrong, you can't be like that.  Then of course there was the internet, where I started chatting with gay people and looking at gay porn, at first I just forced myself to think it was wrong, but I gradually accepted it to myself, that I couldnt help it, I wanted to find someone for myself, it was a big thing for me to acctually like guys and accept that liked them, not ignore it.  All the time that I was going out with my girlfriend, I just became more aware of myself, which also in a strange twist, revealed more of an artist-side of my person, soon enough I worked up the balls to tell my friend that I was bi, it acctually felt great, like something heavy just came off my chest that had been building up for years.  
 
After this, however, rumors started to go around, as I said before, I live in a small town where word will spread fast.  Soon enough word got to my girlfriend, and it got so twisted around, that people were saying I had a boyfriend, so, as she was yelling at me, calling me a faggot, and all the above, I tried to explain to her as best as I could of what was happening, she ignored me, and eventually went down to the school counselors, yelling out "My boyfriend is bisexual, and he left me for some other guy like the faggot he is!" of course, she used my name when she yelled that, even though she was in a small room with the door shut, she still yelled it loud enough for people out in the hallway to hear.  That was when the trouble really started.  Everyone, even my old friends would just walk by and shove me into a locker door, yelling "go back in the closet you fucking homo!" and other crap like that, I'm sure most of you that are reading this have heard it before.  It became so bad that sometimes I would force myself to get sick by leaving my window open at night, or throwing up, just so I would not have to go to school and deal with them.  My grades dropped, my friends ignored me, no one but my girlfriend (who strangely still stayed with me) and friends on the internet would talk to me.  That was another reason I stayed home, the Internet and chatting with other gay people and friends of mine, were my only form of happiness at the time, it was the only place where people would not make fun of me for the way I was.
 
Well, at the time, my parrents had grounded me for not doing well in school, so the internet was off-limits, but I still found my way around that by finding the cable modem and plugging it into the computer, but of course, my parrents have their ways of catching me.  One day my stepdad came home from work at lunch to see if I was really sick, of course I wasnt and, of course I was on the computer, so he yelled at me, took the modem with him, and left.  This was not the first time that had happend, and that time, I just started crying, I felt robbed for some reason, robbed of the one thing that kept me from going insane, my parrents did not understand why I was so depressed.  Finnally, I called up my stepdad, still crying, I told him I was sorry for disobeying him and my mom, and I told him why I was staying home so much, and I confessed to him that I was bi.  He called up my mom, she came home early and talked to me, I confessed to her as well.  I ended up switching schools to where I am now at the Alternative Education, which of course was a part of the school I was at, so rumors spread there too.  But even before that I started going there the next week, was the happiest time I ever had with my parrents, I for once was not depressed, I could talk to my parrents, and it was so great to think they accepted me for who I was.  
 
You would think it was all a happy ending right there, well, it wasnt.  Soon enough my family was back to its old ways of arguing, so I got depressed again, I was not doing my work in school, so I was sent to detention for 2 months, nothing but silence, boring, boring, boring, BORING, in that time I streched my abbility to draw, but, things with my peers sucked, more or less, most people made fun of me still, but not as bad as the last school, on the count of, they couldn't, if they did, they would be sent to detention, or lock up, or whatever the extent of what they said or did would be punishable.  It gave me somewhat of a chance to talk to some other people, and for me to have my name spread as someone who is not just a fag, but is someone more than that.  It took an entire summer for me to gain new friends and for people to like me, I acctually have some of the most respected people in the area that like me now, but, what I felt was really rewarding about this was the fact that these people had really no idea what gay people were like, they always thought they would be hit on by a gay person, or whatever, they just thought the idea of a guy liking them was weird, so they made fun of them to keep them away.  Everything was so much better, my summer was great, but with the lack of openly-gay men in the area was hard, I still had no one to talk to in person about how I was, what I wanted to feel, or anything like that, I went back into a semi-depressed state, but, I finnally came to myself and became fully gay, and no longer bi.  
 
The bad thing was with this was that I had this surgery on my right peck for some kind of growth that was there, and I bet you are thinking, "Well why would a surgery be bad?" well I will tell you why.  You know when they get you all drugged up and stuff to put you under so they can perform the opperation without you feeling it? Well, when they got me out of surgery, I was still drugged up, I wasnt thinking clearly, and I was more in a dream-like state, and while my mother was sitting there, I confessed to her I was gay without realising it. Of course, she flipped out in the car ride home, by the time I was thinking clearly, I pulled off a lie that made it seem like I never said it, just so she would not be as mad anymore.  According to her, she thought it was just a phase when I first told her, so she did not expect me to carry it on.  She was religious (suposedly) and went on about how I was sinning against god, and all that other bullcrap, I was mature enough to know I didnt belive in god, and that I was capable of making my own choices, and that I am who I am, and she should accept me for it.  Things died down on that subject soon enough, and I just kept being quiet about it.  
 
Finnally, about 6 months later, I meet someone on a web page called Myspace, his name was Justin, and he had a really, really fucking cute as hell picture, but, he was 23, when he asked me about going to meet him up at Applebees one night, I wasnt sure about it, just because of the age difference, but I went anyways, when I saw him, my heart just pounded like crazy, I was thinking "OH MY GOD, he is fucking HOT, and he asked ME on a date!" I was so exited, we went inside, had some hot-wings, and talked for the longest time, he was so much like me, it felt so great even to find someone that I had so much in common with, let alone that he was gay, and he was hot as hell.  He was also ex-Army, he had already been to Iraq durring the war, but now he was out for good,  I told him I was also signed up for the Army, and I was supposed to leave on July 25th 2006 for Basic Training, (3 months away from the time I met him) but of course, my grades changed that, I will leave some other time when I graduate.  But the great thing is, I am with him now, and I could not be happier, it does make me wish I did things differently when I was younger, but, you can't change the past, I'm just glad things worked out, and I say that I was one of the lucky few who may not have gotten it worse than most when they come out like that, my advice though, do what your heart tells you, but follow your logic, it can lead you to happiness thats worth waiting for.
 
-Mobius

(back to top)

Rob

hi comming out it was hard and sad, my name is rob, am from uk , if i rember back in my childhood how lovely it was , my mum ,dad used to go out too work to feed us there were five of us , my dad was in the forces ,so sometimes it was pack up and go. I REMBER my mum dad never told us about sex so our minds would go with the flow of life. i rember i was at home we had nanny look after us because our mum dad were for ever working, but i was i child out of sight from my nanny, and me not knowing about sex i just rember this guy comming on to me i was about 5 years old ,he did what he wanted then moved on, this never ever happend again,i never told my mum or dad because not knowing what sex was it did not seem to matter,

ok my later years came i rember i was 16 now , I dont know what was happing thing with me i felt i was drawn to the same sex ask me why that i cant tell you but i was, it never helped that i went too a boys school ,some boys would talk about other boys what they were doing down in the play ground ,my ears pricked up it seemed of got my intrest, but i was still afraid ,but excited at the same time if that makes sense,well i did get down to the bottom of the play ground and joined in.but it seemed bit boring,so left that, ok meaning boring what  was boring master bation,it sort did not appel to me,i thought is this sex, normal boys would do this every day some were,

any lets move on,i  used to get the bus home from school ,but am guy that hates sitting in bus when its hot summer .so in time i use to wailk home ,i used to wailk home with some guys then 1 would take diffent path home so i was wailking with the other guy its strange i was not even thinking about sex ,but it come up,with this other guy hes name was pete, HE just tailked about sex in genral not about girls just sex, i dont no why he put it so i under stood it because no 1 told me about sex ,then he said to me can he kiss me ,i sort of thought why not idid my blood rushed every were i swear it felt good my heart just begain to beat fast,then we did things i never ever dreamed of , i seem too like my wailks home,but i still did not understand it ,but i liked it,

lets move on in to my 20s still not out.my school days way past me now, and now i was understanding sex ,in my 20s i begain dated girls  rember i never new what gay ment or queers no 1 told me that either ,gosh i must have been deaf,but in my 20s i heard the word it made me fear me,in my 20s i lost my brother i seem to lose contrl of my life,my mum was torn apart, then my life was torm apart too to under stand read on,well my mother it took years to get over this my friends i had none my mother did not allow me any because she thought they would take me away from her , i ended up drinking lot it seem away out .as i got enaged to be married my mum stepped in and said things like hes mine your never have him, i was enaged three times,my life was falling apart i begain to hate her my mother that is , i lived in my dead brothers shoes  right to my late 20s,

in the end i left home looking for answers for my own life ,i loved my mum and dad but i could not take any more ,the nights i cried were endless ,so what have become ,in time i for give my mother you got too because theres reason why she behaved like she did, am i gay  yes i am ,am i out yes i am to some but rember i never choose this life its what i am in side,am human am rob ,people care about people no matter who you are ,am glad i found out what or who i am because ,people dont care , they care because your somebody, i look at gay as label like t shirt pair jeans with brand name,but you are somebody and when you come out people do like you  because you have self repect, and you have 1 life, live it and never look back, am now living the life to the full, get to know your self love your self and people love you back god bless you all, rob.

(back to top)

Brad

I once thought that “coming out” simply referred to a person telling others about his or her sexual orientation.  I have learned that it is much, much more than that. My experience has shown me that telling others might be the second step--- but the real “coming out” for me was truly admitting my orientation to myself first.

I’d like to share my story.

I now realize that in my heart, I always knew I was gay. I knew I was gay before I knew what the word meant. I knew I was gay before I knew I was right handed, or what religion my family was. I knew I was gay before I started kindergarten. All of which tells me that I didn’t suddenly “become” gay at puberty, that being gay was not a choice I made, and it didn’t necessarily involve sexual behavior.  It just “was”.  

I remember the tall awkward teenaged boy next door named Paul who played basketball in his driveway wearing his black high tops and black-framed glasses. It was 1966 or so, and I was only about five, but I wanted to know more about Paul.  I wanted to watch him and sit near him and have him talk to me. I hoped he would know my name. I would peek out my bedroom window when I heard the basketball bouncing on his driveway, then go out and sit on the wall and watch him from twenty feet away.  I never talked to him, except once when I meekly ran up to him and said “Hello Paul” and then turned and ran away in shame. I was ashamed because of the curious affection I felt for Paul, because I knew even as a tiny boy that I wanted to be near Paul in a way that other people wouldn’t understand.  Even then I knew that the warm tickly feeling I felt in the bottom of my stomach when I saw Paul was somehow wrong and bad.

My mother would tell me that when I was a small boy that I would always come to her and hug her for no particular reason and ask her sadly “Do you love me?  How can you love me?”  She would always say that of course she loved me, and expressed surprise why I would wonder if I was loved.  While I had no insight until many years later, I believe that I knew then that I was flawed:  defective, damaged, evil, twisted, sick. I knew if she had an idea what went on in my head that she would not love me and I would be alone.  I was coming to the conclusion that no one must ever know how I felt inside, and planned that this would be a secret I would keep from everybody for my whole life.  
As grade school progressed, the signs grew stronger and so I grew more defiant in resisting them. But I would look for chances to be near boys I liked, especially to be close enough to them to feel their warmth or smell their skin or hair, or best of all to be able to actually touch them when we were near.  When boys made jokes about queers and homos, I knew I that they were describing what I was. I knew if anyone ever found out what I thought about, my life would be ruined, and I vowed that I would never let this ever happen.  

I recall a fifth grade science lesson on the human body where we were told to put our hand on our neighbor’s chest to feel his heart beating.  I thought I was going to faint as Ronnie, a slim athletic blond boy I worshipped more than any other turned to me with his shoulders pushed back and I realized he expected me to touch his chest.  The blood rose fast in my neck and my cheeks and ears burned.  I gently put my hand on Ronnie’s bony chest and felt how warm he was and felt him breathing and his heart beating.  I suddenly could not catch my breath.  

“Do you feel it?” he said.

 I certainly did feel it.  I felt something that he couldn’t have imagined I was feeling and I would have died right there if he knew.  But at the same time I was flying in heaven, I was also deeply, profoundly sad. I was sad because I strongly suspected that Ronnie didn’t feel the same way about this science experiment as I did.  To him, it was following the teacher’s instructions.  To me it was magic.

“Ohmygod is your heart beating fast” Ronnie chirped as he in turn put his hand on my chest.  I was so embarrassed; the room was spinning and black and I felt my heart would pound right through my shirt as I felt his warm hand on my chest.  I didn’t want him to take his hand away. This was all so happily wonderful and glorious and beautiful yet so sad and bad and terribly wrong all at once.

I joined the Boy Scouts. Relatively unsupervised, the boys in our troop acted like a pack of wild animals, preying on the weaknesses of the younger scouts, myself included.  However, my first camping trip started wonderfully. I met an 18-year-old Eagle Scout named Jim who was everything I dreamed of.  He sat with me and taught me the safe way to use a pocketknife, we sat close to each other at the fire, and he messed up my hair and called me “tiger”.  My first thought on waking the next morning was to go find Jim and be with him again.  I was so happy there were not words to describe how I felt inside. I knew that Jim accepted me, and I knew I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

Unfortunately, the other boys noticed my loving gazes and the way I leaned my head on Jim’s shoulder and closed my eyes at the campfire. They called me a queer, a homo and other things I didn’t understand. They asked me if I would give them blow jobs (whatever that was) and they physically pushed me.  I realized with a sudden shock of horror that I had betrayed myself; I thought that I would die…. This toxic thing that I wanted to keep on the inside had leaked out for everyone to see.

As puberty started, things stared to rush very quickly into awful, terrible focus. Things that would have never caused a second thought to “normal” boys or their parents to me were anxiety filled situations. Gym class was the most brutal example.  Let me paint the picture this way:  Imagine that you, as a straight boy, were just starting to feel your sexual desires rising as the hormones started to course through your veins.  Imagine that your little crushes on girls were becoming the powerful teenage pullings of lust, felt for the first time. You have just learned to masturbate—and your frequent private moments of climax were always accompanied by provocative and sensual mental images of the girls you adored.  Now imagine that your public school system puts you into a shower room with all these girls of your fantasy—and you all strip naked together standing inches from each other, close enough to see everything you ever imagined.  

Today’s activity is wrestling… Brad, you wrestle with Kim and then Christine. Then you must strip and shower together after you have been rolling on the ground nose to nose, close enough to taste each others’ breath and have another’s sweat ground into your skin. Everyone has to shower- that’s the rule.

 If this really happened as I describe it, there would be a scandal. People would lose their jobs and be arrested and it would be on the evening news. Experts would decry the brutal damage and abuse being done to young, impressionable developing minds. But this “scandal” was my daily reality.

Through all this I was deeply, terribly sad.  I cried at night and begged God to change me. I promised I would only think of girls when I masturbated.  Every time I had a sexual thought about another guy I would curse myself and promise myself it would be the last time that this ever happened.  I wondered if I would be better off dead.

Somehow through all this I convinced myself that this was a childhood phase I would outgrow. I read the lengthy and dry 1950’s Kinsey Report cover to cover, and it seemed to support my conclusion; that people DID change orientation during their lives.  It also said that very few people were TOTALLY heterosexual, and just as few were TOTALLY homosexual.  There was hope.

Then Jimmy showed up. Jimmy was on the swim team and was tall and slim. All through our childhoods we lived just a block or two apart, yet we never so much as said hello.  Jimmy was effeminate. I wanted nothing to do with Jimmy.  Just to be seen talking to him was guilt by association.

I was in the eighth grade and surprised the first time my mother called up to me in my room and said “Jimmy is here to see you!”  Jimmy? Jimmy  who?  I came downstairs and was nervous and mumbled “hi”.  We went up to my room. It was very awkward. He looked around at my things and asked me some questions and then he left.  I was shaken.  Why did he come to see me? But I was excited, too. In the years since we were small children he had gotten tall, and was as handsome as a model in the Sears catalog.  My mother was pleased.  “He’s a very handsome nice boy” she offered.  “Why don’t you see more of each other?”

We certainly did.  Jimmy would knock on my door about once a month.  The same pattern would be repeated. He would come, look around at my things, and then go.  I found that when we were alone, I liked the way he smelled when he walked past me… he smelled like milk and soap. His hair was really nice and shiny and I wanted to touch it.  As he would walk past me I would reach out and just let my hands brush against him.  Then he would be gone.  Yet through this we never acknowledged each other with so much as a nod when we passed in the halls at school.

I made Jimmy a cassette tape with the songs he liked, and he came to get it.  

“I want to pay you for this but I don’t have any money” he said. Then he added quietly, “But I can pay you with sex”. He suggested this so softly I could barely hear him. I was stunned.  This couldn’t be happening. 

That next hour is etched into my brain like it happened just yesterday.  I heard my detached voice saying that I would consider his proposal, and asked what he wanted to do. He told me; and it was the same thing I wanted to do.


We clumsily but quickly undressed each other.  I had never seen another boy in this state before… and the fact that he was aroused because he was naked with me was just too much for me to comprehend.  words tumbled out of his mouth as he told me how beautiful I was to him and that he thought about me all the time and he only wanted to be with me. Then he did something I couldn’t fathom.  He tried to kiss me; on the lips.

I was totally freaked out.  This crossed the line.  Kissing was what guys did with girls they wanted to marry.  Kissing another guy was so far out of the question that it was off the scale of belief.  

If I had any doubts about what I was into before, they were erased now. I was messing around with a faggot who wanted to KISS ME for Christ’s sake.

My deep expert analysis of the Kinsey report had convinced me somehow that the line between childhood frivolity and serious adulthood started exactly on one’s 16th birthday.  Therefore, at 15, I was still entitled to do any messing around and experimenting I wanted and it would still be OK. But there was a line and I was determined I would not cross it.  I would start being straight as soon as I turned 16.

I realize that the damage I did to myself from this point onwards was far worse than any abuse that another person could have inflicted on me. I loathed myself. I would catch a glimpse of my eye in the mirror and hiss, “I hate you, you faggot” at my reflection.  I started dating girls.  I went to every dance, every prom, and every other social occasion on the calendar.  I was proudly punished for publicly making out with a girl from another school at a chaperoned party. Everyone knew it was me who got in trouble and why. I was so straight.    I wanted every guy to know that I could get any girl I wanted.

In reality, I was the perfect gentleman. On dates I kept my hands to myself. A goodnight kiss was enough.  Girls’ mothers liked me.  Their fathers liked me. Everyone trusted me.  Everyone liked me.  Except for me.

My first year in college was rudely startling to me.  I attended an Ivy League school in a busy city. Suddenly I was out of my element.  I noticed with horror that many of the effeminate guys were actually wearing earrings and some were admitting they were gay. Many guys had girlfriends and it was no big deal any more; even the shy guys were starting to pair up with girls.  People were dealing with their sexuality… Yet I needed more time!  The closeted world I was accustomed to living in was suddenly getting claustrophobic.


I’d like to say that, at last, this is where I came out, and everyone lived happily ever after.  But that’s not what happened at all.  I believed that I could have both, a happy public marriage and a secret seamy sex life. (Not a very original plan, I’m afraid.  Pick up the newspaper any day as see how many others have followed this clever blueprint)

I convinced myself that my behavior was a simple quirky flaw in my personality; that it was not a problem and that I could control it. I married a wonderful woman and gave the appearance of being a model husband.  The Internet, a new tool that was great for shopping and research became my tool for shopping and research of other willing sex partners.

Eventually, my wife discovered my secret life.  She was devastated. Was it her fault? What had she done that had caused me to act this way?  Why was she so stupid not to have seen the signs?

Allow me to skip the details but fast-forward, this time to a happy ending.  Facing up to facts, I finally “came out” to myself at the age of 33.  The moment I accepted that I was gay, and that all my crazy, outrageous behavior was a result of my being unable to accept this fact, A 100,000 ton weight was lifted from my shoulders.  Some will conclude that I still haven’t come out- because I don’t wear my sexuality openly and have elected to stay married. But, this is truly my “coming out” story.  My hope is someone reading this who is conflicted and 13 or even 43 can gain a glimmer of insight from my experiences.

(back to top)