When I Came Out

When I came out my sister took it hard. It took her a while to warm up to it. After she died I came across some journals and letters of hers and realized that my sister had struggled with her own sexuality. It makes sense now, but I wish we could have talked about it. Mostly, I’m sad I never got to take her to a pride festival.

When I came out as trans to my parents, it was with a note, as I was locked in the bathroom crying and unable to speak. Five years and several equally disastrous episodes of breaching the topic later, neither parent has provided any real help and transitioning still seems like a distant dream.

When I came out, my friends were confused. But my girlfriend just laughed and said, “Oh, I always knew.”

When I came out to my long time (30+ years) friends, I remembered to thank them for walking with me through that period and offering their steadfast, silent, and loving support without judgement all those years. We no longer had to dance around the elephant in the room! And we dance joyfully!

When I came out, I couldn’t believe how mean the gay “community” was. If you didn’t look a certain way, if you didn’t wear the right clothes, listen to the right music, worship female celebrities, you were dirt. It hasn’t really changed since 1985, either.

When I came out to my rather WASPy mother, she said, “You do not say such things to me.” And for three years, I did not do so again. Now, she welcomes my husband to family holidays.

When I came out my grandmother was relieved that I didn’t spend my whole life in the closet.

When I came out, my mom said “Who told you that?” My sister said, “We were wondering when you were gonna tell us.” My other sister said in her best Jewish accent, “Come on up to Atlanta, we’ll have a coming out party for ya!”

When I came out to my mom she said that she understood because she had a long-term relationship with a woman before I was born. “You can’t help love who you love.”

When I came out, at Christmas Dinner, my father just said, “It’s about damn time you told us.” I asked, “Is that it? ‘Cause I’d worked myself up for something a little, well… ‘more’…” Mom replied, quoting from the TV Show “Soap”, “Would this have worked better for you, Mike? — OH MY GOD, BUD, OUR SON’S A HOMO!” “No,” I said, “please pass the wine…” I love my family!