The day I came out was a whirlwind. I first told my sister during the mid-afternoon hours while she was playing Xbox. I proceeded to read her a letter I had written to my parents out of nervousness and reassurance. Once I said the words “I’m gay” to my sister, she began to laugh hysterically because she thought it was a joke. It wasn’t until I convinced her that I was telling the truth that she settled down and proceeded to let me know that she still loved me and accepted me for who I loved. Then she asked “So when are you going to tell mom and dad?” It was then that she put out the idea that we take my mother out to eat that night so I could tell her. Yet, I am now starting to realize that my sister was probably just hungry.
We took my mother out to Flanagan’s. We had just finished our appetizers when my mom noticed my nervous look. She asked if I was okay, and then I confessed that I had something important to tell her. I let it out. “Mom, I’m gay.” She looked at me with a surprised look and her eyes glazed over. My heart was racing, and I kept on telling myself that I had screwed my life up, that she wouldn’t love me anymore. She finally spoke and said “Okay, you’re my son and I love you no matter what. Don’t worry, I want you to be happy, and I will support you in any way.” I began to cry. I felt some of the heavy weight lift off my shoulders. We continued with our dinner and then my mom asked, “So when are you going to tell Dad?” My knees turned to pudding and I realized she was expecting me to go forth and tell him. I thought it was one of those deals where you tell someone, and they spread it out in a sincere manner. I let her know that I would tell him that very night.
We got home, and my mom went into the master bedroom to speak with my father. She let him know that I needed to talk to him about something important. She ushered me in. I sat on the bed and began to confess to my father. I started with the common, “Dad, I just want you to know that I’m still the same person, and have the same goals.” My father seemed to hear what I was saying but continued to watch “The O’Reilly Factor.” It wasn’t until I said, “Dad, I’m gay.” His head turned swiftly and his eyes stared me down. Mind you, this was a man who had more than 10 guns, still believed in Bush, and would most likely put his NRA stickers all over his coffin. My father broke his silence and said, “Well, are you sure? I mean, it’s okay. I’ve known a lot of gay people throughout my years. I’m okay with you being gay, and I still love you. Gayness is gayness. No big deal.” I felt my knees stop jiggling and my stomach rising to its former position. I began to cry with joy because I had finally showed myself. I was finally happy.