I have always been independent. I suppose it stems from being the middle child in a family of seven. Brought up in a home where Jesus is ever present, with an abusive father and a mother who is a perpetual victim. Due to these factors I was too naive to believe that a seemingly insignificant event as my coming out would have far reaching consequences. For some this will be a story of my embittered outlook. For others it will be a march towards something powerful and beautiful. For me it was both, a sad tale of whining and a beacon of hope.



I suppose my journey begins on New Year's 2006. I had made a long standing decision to come out to my parents. I had started college, and I began the arduous process of being honest with others. I had met a boy that I thought I liked and felt it was a duty to me and my parents that I must tell them the truth. Hopefully, this would repair my relationship with them, a relationship strained by a bitter divorce. So I told my dad. He told me it would take time for him to get used to it. My stepmom praised me for being honest and for my courage. I learned some years later that these words of care and love were nothing more than a mask of their true feelings. They could not truly accept me or my lifestyle.



Coming out to my mother was a journy in its own right. I drove the thousand miles to Texas where she lived. Jesus was not only fully present in her home; he could be found everywhere, from the grocery store to the drive thru. I was so nervous I didn't know whether to run or vomit. At the end of my trip I had told my mother. That night lives infamously within me. I relayed to my mother that I was queer and that there was a boy I was interested in. Her response to me was expected. As always she turned to God and the Bible. She reminded me that being gay was a sin, and I knew right from wrong. I left the next morning, with a broken heart. A week later I got an email from her telling me I was going to hell, and that she worried for my soul. That was hard for me to get over. It is the root of my anger. I would often ask myself, "How can a mother hate her child?" In my mother's defense, she does love me, but I wish she could accept me.



Both of my parents' relationship with God has left me with nothing more than an unadultered anger; an anger that I hold onto firmly, with both hands.



I look back and see that the boy that had led me to come out to my parents was a terrible choice. In fact, my choice in men leaves something to be desired. When I pursue Gay men, I draw myself to men that are shallow, unreliable, and flakey. My immaturity leads me to place all my cards on the table, and then get extremely hurt when I am rejected. So I turned my attention to having "crushes" on straight men. I find that when I like a straight guy, then the expectation to ask him out vanishes. I am not required to put myself out there. I am protected from rejection and relieved of my innevitable duty to date him. This choice has been a blessing and a curse. I have been given the opportunity to look closely at myself, and find myself in many ways. But alas, I am lonely.



The joy of my story had been my incurable optimism and my indomitable sense of humor. I lost my virginity to a man on Craigslist. Can you imagine? I only wanted to lose my virginity before I turned 21. Then about a year later, while I was dressed in drag, a man followed me home from the bar. He asked me if I was as pretty as a man as I was as a woman. So I asked him up to find out. I realize now that my extremely low self-esteem has led me into some dangerous situations. I tell these stories with my friends and we laugh. But I count my blessings that I was not hurt. I am grateful that the reprecussions of my decisions did not have long lasting consequences. I thank God that he or she was watching me and protecting me.



But there was a man that did come along. His name was Tony, we met where I worked. He was everything I thought I wanted. And to this day when I meet someone they will have many of his qualities. He was funny and handsome. His caring soul and nature made me swoon. He was a man who wanted to take care of the person he was with. He would call me and ask how my day went. When it went poorly he would plan a fun surprise to cheer me up. My feelings for him were deepening, and he fit very well into much of my life. But my nature sent me running. I wasn't strong enough to stay with him. I hope he finds someone far better than I, he deserves it.



After my bolt, I found something, I found within myself the strength I had been lacking. I found the piece of me that I thought was missing but was really shrouded by my self-doubt. I found that years under my parents' oppression had scarred me. My father's abuse had left me fearful of becoming an abuser. He told me once, that I was so starved for love that I would end up more like my mother. My fear changed, I was no longer afraid of being an abuser, but the abused.



I also recognized that years of being taunted in school had made me afraid to advocate for myself. I had spent years trying to help my mother by never making waves, by always following the rules, and working hard to never make her life harder than my brother and father had done. The outcome of these things left me a desire to be selfish. I had traded my youth to be an adult for my mother. Now I wanted it back. The biggest thing I realize was that life in solitude was no life at all. That a life trying to please others was not making me happy, it had almost cost me my life. All the anger and sadness that I hid from the world, made me attempt suicide. So now I would tell the world who I was, and share the most intimate forms of my soul.



Through all of this I found the one thing I was craving. Love. I had worked so hard to find a friend, who would become my boyfriend, who would become my husband. But what I found instead is far more fulfilling. I have found a family, a family that is not bound by blood, but by love and acceptance. I found the people that care for me no matter what. They see my faults and cherrish them. They see my dreams and encourage them. They see my sadness and they comfort me. They see my hope and revel in it. They have accepted me into their lives and though I am at times annoying, hurtful, and selfish, they remember the man I have become, and they love him.



My friends have been my true inspiration. One asked me to be in her wedding though I only knew her for a few months. They have torn down my internal fear of men, both homosexual and heterosexual. My straight guy friends shower me with hugs and kisses, and many times in front of others. With this love they removed my fears to show my feelings and be open with others. My other friends have spent their time being loud and embarrassing right alongside me. They have shown me that I can wait for the right man. They have given me the template of who I should be with, because they have shown me who I am. They have encouraged me to stop taking steps to better my life, but rather approach my future in leaps. Because of them I have found support. Because of them I realized that I have a family that will stand by me. Thanks to them, I can finally start to forgive those who hurt me.



Through my journey of coming out to today I have never been in a serious relationship with another man. There is only one man who I ever dated and a short line of two one night stands. I wish that I could blame these numbers solely on my unaccepting parents. However I have come to realize there is more to my hesitations than just that. Through my journey, I was not a slave to my life, but the master of it. In that revelation I can take comfort. In that revelation I place all my faith and trust. In my revelation I am able to being letting go of my anger and hatred, and working toward love, for myself...and others.

Thomas