There’s a boy in the US’s Midwest who writes a blog that I’ve been reading of late. It’s an anonymous blog: he doesn’t post photos of himself, he doesn’t tell his readers where he lives or goes to University or what his real name is. He writes under the pseudonym ‘Phil’. He’s a politics student and a swimmer on the school team. He sounds like a nice guy. His parents are pretty conservative, and over the last few weeks he’s been wrestling with the process of how to come out as gay to his family. I know, it’s hard. He’s drafted a letter to his parents to give them after talking to them, he’s doubted himself and his family, he’s defended his sexuality and he’s recounted conversation with his parents. They seem like the kind of people who would be hard to convince to support an opinion they didn’t immediately believe.
On December 12th he wrote about being honest and coming out to his family. Then on December 17th he did it and wrote about it on the 18th: Coming Out to my parents, Part I, followed by the conclusion of his experience in Coming Out to my parents, Part II. It’s really worth reading because it shows the torment through which a lot of people have to go in order to be honest about their sexuality with their families, though the concept could apply to any number of ‘coming out’ problems – breakdown of a marriage, falling in love with someone from the ‘wrong’ religion… Phil’s words on the 18th:
The internal screaming took over my body and shook it. It ran up and down my spine, louder and louder. I got dizzy. I got sick to my stomach. I stared them in the eyes, waiting for a reaction. It felts like ages, years, centuries, but I know it was just a couple seconds. I saw the words hit them in the face. “There’s no going back Phil.” I thought to myself. “This is it. Be confident. Be strong.” Their facial expressions changed, and I didn’t know what to do. Run for the door, or run into a full embrace and hug?
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