The second of our series of coming out stories comes from the author and creator of a popular and award winning blog from South Africa - Warfare – The Delightful and Dreary Sides of Gay Life. Pierre presents his own coming out and that of his husbands with charm and wit and touching honesty and humour.
There comes a time in every gay person’s life when the claustrophobia and social isolation of the proverbial pink closet becomes too much and you need to step into the sunshine as the fabulous and authentic person you are. A time when you no longer can deny your true nature and the truth needs to be revealed. This experience can be daunting, exhilarating, traumatic and cathartic. All openly gay individuals have their own unique coming out stories and this is mine.
On an autumn Sunday afternoon at the tender age of 16 I decided to step out of the closet. After Sunday lunch I decided to break the news to my utterly unprepared family. My decision to do so was threefold: Firstly I have known that I was gay probably since the age of 6 (I kissed my first boy at that age); Secondly I was growing tired of having to make up lies about why I do not have a steady girlfriend; and Thirdly I no longer wanted to have to lie about the true nature of my “friendships” with certain boys.
I was considerate enough not to drop the bomb during lunch. I didn’t want to spoil the meal or cause anyone to choke on their food and having the family drama spill over to the emergency room. During the washing up the words every parent fear left my lips “Mom… Dad… I am gay…” It was received with a cold silence and a shocked pause. I remember my mother slowly turning around while loosing her grip of a plate that shattered into pieces on the floor much like my heterosexual future she had envisaged for me. In a slow, controlled and slightly strained voice she asked me to repeat myself hoping for a different outcome. “I am gay…” I hesitantly said again. The room flooded with tension, disillusioned stares where exchanged between my sister and father while my mother’s eyes were burning holes through me. In her eyes I could see the death of her imagined grandchildren and the perfect daughter-in-law. Without saying a word she left the kitchen, went to the master bedroom and sobbed behind a locked door for the remainder of the day. My father visibly distraught by my revelation later sat me down and told me that he had always suspected that I was gay. He explained that the gay lifestyle wasn’t what he wanted for me, but if this is what I am he would try to accept it, but it wasn’t going to be easy. My sister was fine with the fact that I am gay, apart from the sex part which “grossed her out”.
The next day at school I was unexpectedly called to the principal’s office. On arrival I found my mother waiting for me. Being in an all boy school, my first thought was that my parents are going to pull me out of school as instead of the testosterone fuelled environment “butching” me up I still became gay. As things turned out she was fetching me to go see a psychologist. After several sessions (10 to be exact) with a slightly homophobic therapist he unenthusiastically revealed to my parents that I was indeed gay and it wasn’t a phase. I remember my mother breaking down, wanting to know from the therapist what she and my dad did wrong causing me to be this way. The fears they had were also revealed: Was I going to get Aids? Am I going to start wearing woman’s clothes or even get a sex change? In retrospect, I guess I can’t blame their ignorance as they never had much exposure to gay people and the stereotypes about the gay community were all they knew. After the therapist explained to them with great compassion that the majority of their fears where unfounded and that they in all probability didn’t cause my homosexuality, their guilt reluctantly started to dissipate over the years to come.
Then the religious issues surfaced. How to be a good Christian and deal with your child being gay? Are you allowed to love your gay son who is condemned to hell by the Church?
At this point both my parents had started to accept the fact that I am gay, but both were in denial regarding me being sexually active. You see being gay was not technically viewed as a sin, by them, as long as I didn’t practice the lifestyle. Unfortunately, my mother was yet again due for a rude awakening when she forgot something at home on her way to work. Returning home she walked in on me and my then boyfriend in the heat of passion. She almost died 20 deaths and my boyfriend was expelled from the house and remained in exile for 2 months. I am sure both my parents spend an extra couple of hours in prayer that evening.
When I met my now husband I had been out of the closet for just over 5 years. Both my parents, by this time, had accepted my sexual orientation and lifestyle. They have almost come to view it as “normal” and I was no longer the source of family shame or the result of their souls’ condemnation. My family welcomed my husband into our family with open arms, as he was the equivalent of the perfect “daughter-in-law”, so to speak. Unfortunately, at that time he was still in the closet to his family. After a couple of months, I ushered him out of the closet as I didn’t feel comfortable dating a guy and having to lie to his parents. I gave my husband the opportunity to exit the closet on his own time and on his own terms. He came out to his family in a restaurant. Always a good idea as drama will be limited and he went with his own car for an easy exit. After coming out and the truth about our relationship was revealed, I was banned from my husband’s parents home for 3 years, but he was still allowed to see me. After 11 years his parents too have grown to accept my husband and me for who we are and our relationship for what it is. They now treat me like a son. It wasn’t easy for them either, and like all parents I am sure their hearts were broken at first when the son they had didn’t turn out to be what they had wished for.
Pierre’s blog is can be found by clicking here.
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