Just to clarify, the reason I'm still in the closet is not because of my mental condition. So, it is because I'm scared, but not the normal kind of scared. I've read other people's accounts of their reasons for not coming out. To be honest, I feel like if I were in any other their shoes, I would come out immediately. I'd shout it from the rooftops. I realize that sounds completely condescending. I'm by no means saying that they're having an easy time. Nor am I saying that they're overestimating the obstacles or consequences of coming out. I just know that if I didn't have this mental thing, I would be out. And, from what I can tell, no one that I've met nor talked with nor read has this mental condition. I know it sounds like I'm whining, but hopefully you'll read it more as commiserating.
On another note, while I am still in the closet, there are some people who I've come out to. My immediate family knows I'm gay. The handful of people I've hooked up with know I'm gay. And there are about ten to fifteen other people who know that I'm gay. Oh, and all of you. Whoever and however many you are. The reactions have been almost universally positive.
The worst, or, rather, least positive, was from my mother. Actually, she was the first person to find out I was gay. I was away at school and she found a notebook of mine in which I had written that I was gay. The next time I was home on a break, we had a talk in our kitchen late at night. She asked me if I were gay and I told her "yes." Then she asked me if that meant that I wanted to become a women, which lead me to laugh in her face (women are great, I just have no desire to be one). My mom realized that it was a silly question and told me that she still loved me. All of that was good. It was what happened later that absolutely sucked. On three separate occasions (so far), each about a year apart, she has made comments that both pissed me off and hurt me in equal measure. One was of the "you could still change" variety, one was of the "isn't that she cute? You could date her" variety but the worst one was the "don't you want to get married?" kind.
The first time it happened, I was more shocked than anything. My mother is a very smart woman. She has a master's degree from an Ivy League university and is generally a smart person. She's also a wonderful mother. I have no question in my mind that she loves me and would do absolutely anything for me. I never thought she would have a problem with my being gay. Or, if she did, I thought she would be the type of parent who totally comes around after her own child came out. Instead she sort of just disregards it. Which, all things considered, isn't that bad. I mean, it could be much worse. It's just annoying that instead of keeping her ridiculousness to herself, she has to ask me inane, insulting questions. And she asks them as if they're totally innocent and she doesn't know that they hurt me. In truth, she may not know that they're hurtful questions, but, as I said, she's not an ignorant person. So, that's the way that goes.
Incidentally, this is how it went with my father, and I quote:
Dad: "Your mother told me about the talk you two had last night."
Me (more than a little terrified) : "Oh yeah?"
Dad: "Yeah. I just want you to know, you're still my Joe."
And that was that. We got out of the car and went back into the house. That was by far the best reaction I've gotten.
When I come out, I do not want to become gay Joe. Or someone's gay friend. I just want to be Joe who likes music, works at his job and who also likes guys. I don't want my homosexuality to define me. In my mind, the ideal situation would just be for everyone to know that I was guy. Like if I everyone I have ever known, know or will know could just be born with the knowledge that Joe is gay. It's not the people knowing that gets me. It's having to say the words "I'm gay" and then having to see as their opinion of me changes and how they will interact with me differently.
Hopefully that was all somewhat coherent. I wrote it in bits an pieces, so I hope it came together in the end. Maybe I'll read over it later to see. Maybe.
So, that's the way that goes.
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