I’m Gay: My Coming Out Story

On Monday, February 18th, I came out as gay. The days that followed were consumed with every emotion you can imagine. My wife and I are best friends. We’ve been best friends for almost eleven years. We have a sweet baby girl who’s not even a year old. We have a gorgeous house. Everything was perfect and I was pretty happy. But I wasn’t whole.

If I look back now, I’ve known for a long time. I guess it goes without saying you always know. But it’s amazing how your brain can keep things locked up so tight somewhere that you’re actually able to live; to wake up each day and power through, at times even forgetting about the feeling of absolute terror that someone will find out.

The thought was always there. Not if anyone know I was gay. Because I had never accessed that idea before. But was I straight enough? Was I convincing people? Were they buying it?

I thought about those questions with every interaction. I’d avoid talking to people in public. Hated to socialize outside my circle. Every time I got dressed I wondered if my outfit gave it away. I was afraid that people could tell when I walked, or when I talked. I don’t really remember a time when I wasn’t trying to hide it and living in absolute fear.

My wife and I had our daughter and we spent many hours, as parents do, laying out what we envisioned for her life. We wanted her to grow up happy. She could be whatever and whoever she wanted as long as she was happy. Living without fear. To live the way she wanted to live. To never feel ashamed of who she was. We filled her room with books about living empowered. And being brave. To listen to your heart and live without apology.

And every time I read her one of those books, I felt like I was lying to her.

How could I raise my daughter to love herself enough to be proud of whoever she was when I couldn’t do it? When I didn’t even love who I was.

My happiness had never really been a focus. On some level, years ago, I had decided that I didn’t need to be happy. My happiness came from making everyone around me happy. I tried to be the best husband. The best uncle. The best son, brother, friend, dad. If I couldn’t be fully happy, I could make everyone around me happy and that felt nice. That was my happy.

Except that it became unbearable.

In November of 2018 I was in a particularly dark place. The guilt from all the secrets of who I was was so incredibly complicated. It made me feel unworthy of all the happiness in my life. For a period, I thought that the best way to stop the torment and avoid the pain I would cause the people around me was to end my life. In my head it was the only way to fix me.

I confided in a friend who reminded me of the love in my life. He reminded me to think of my daughter, my wife, my family and friends. He reminded me to hold on to all of that love and he gave me hope that things would be okay.

Honestly, I can’t even tell you how the next few months went. I became so distracted by thoughts that I became messy, lazy, couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t even hold a conversation at times. I argued with people I cared about because I was subconsciously starting to resent anyone who got to be happy. It felt like no one appreciated the sacrifice I felt like I was making. Yes, I was getting mad at people for something they had no idea about.

So on Monday, February 18th I decided to be brave. Or maybe it was that I was just exhausted from being scared. Probably a combination of both.

What followed after I told my wife was sixteen hours of talking, crying, yelling, laughing at times… And we haven’t stopped talking since.

At the end of the day, we’re best friends. We have a loving relationship that we’ve spent eleven years perfecting. It’s that love that kept me alive.  

The next week was spent with telling close family and friends. And the love that my wife and I have for each other and for our daughter continued to guide us. Since February 18th, I have been surrounded in love and support that I have trouble fully comprehending it. I don’t feel deserving of it. I never have. It’s something I’m working on.

My wife and I recently had a conversation, some ten days later, about how, for me, these weeks have been so surreal. I knew she loved me. But to love me during this time when, by all reasoning she shouldn’t, has been almost too much. I had convinced myself that she would hate me and so I had started treating her like she did. Words will never describe how off base I was about that.

I do know this. Love is love. And it doesn’t really ask for permission.

I don’t think my story is typical. I predicted hate and anger to prevail. And don’t misunderstand… there is anger. There is resentment. It’s painful for every single person involved. And it is a roller coaster of hugs and tears and hope and and fear and bitterness. Editing this some four weeks later, there are good days where Melissa and I can joke and laugh about Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Other days are filled with painful conversations arguments that feel like can’t be resolved.

But love can win if you let it. I don’t think I knew that until February 18, 2019. And I’ve been reminded of it many times since.

My future is full of of uncertainty at this point. I’m getting divorced. I don’t get to see my daughter every day. Some days it’s hard to get out of bed knowing how hurt everyone is. I hear a song and cry. I’ve moved out but I still wake up immediately looking for the baby monitor to check on my daughter only to remember I don’t live with her anymore.

I still struggle with what it means to be gay. I’m 31 and have no idea what it means to be out. It feels like starting from scratch in a lot of ways. But I know I did the right thing. I feel like I’m breathing above water for the first time in a long time.

There are unknowns but plenty of knowns too. I am loved. And the love I have for everyone around me is real. I care so deeply about everyone involved in this.

My wife and I have lofty goals. We want our daughter to grow up knowing that love can take many different forms. That her parents can love each other but not be married. That we can get together with our future families and go on trips or celebrate her birthday. To create a new normal.

This blog post doesn’t begin to touch on all of the emotions involved in the past month. Or touch on the complicated future I’m beginning to navigate now. But I wanted to share because I feel like it might help someone else. Maybe it’ll help inspire someone to be brave sooner. To avoid causing pain and not getting to be themselves.

One thing I’m trying to focus on throughout this is to remember the love. Anger and hate can be big emotions, but so can love.