The Musings of a Confused Man

The other evening, a friend and I got into a discussion about coming out. He remarked that he had met a number of older gay men who seemed to be of the opinion that coming out makes all of the struggles with one's gayness disappear, or at least become insignificant. He told me that this attitude bothered him, because he didn't feel that was the case at all. Listening to him, I found myself agreeing with his point of view wholeheartedly. Indeed, I found the claims made by these older gay men (and bear in mind that these "older men" actually fall in my age range) to be astonishing and completely unhelpful. I emphatically told my friend that I felt the attitude these men had expressed was complete garbage.

Now, don't get me wrong. I think there are a great number of benefits to coming out when a person is ready to do so. (I also think that coming out is a process that involves degrees and situations rather than an all or nothing thing, but that's probably best left for another post.) Coming out to myself, ending the denial, and allowing myself to be the person I knew was inside of me has been one of the greatest gifts I have ever given myself. And allowing myself to share that person with those people in my life that were important to me allowed me to save a lot of time and energy that I would have otherwise wasted by trying to hide who I am and worrying about what might happen if anyone ever found out my secret. And I suspect that my friend with whom I had this conversation would agree with everything I've just said.

But to say that all problems surrounding one's sexual orientation will fade away once one comes out just isn't realistic. In fact it's a lie, and one that could deeply hurt someone who doesn't feel this fictional release of all troubles upon coming out. And to me, spreading such a hurtful lie to another person is reprehensible.

Truth be told, as wonderful as the coming out process is, it's only the beginning of a larger process. And for many of us, that beginning is the equivalent of opening floodgates and letting out a whole world of hurt and confusion we need to deal with. I can look at my own coming out experience that took place almost eleven years ago and the rough road it started me down, and the very lie of these older men's claims makes me wince.

Coming out means coming to terms with who we are and allowing other people to see who we are. In many cases, the whole reason we need to come out is because we've been denying or repressing who we are -- often for years. That takes its toll on a person, and quite often, coming out also requires us to face the results of those years. It's one thing to accept who we are, but it's completely different thing to come to love who we are. Sometimes, it means rebuilding our self-perception from scratch. Sometimes, it means learning that we really are deserving of love. Sometimes, it means struggling to live in an adult world while having the emotional maturity of a young teenager. Sometimes, it means coming to terms with an unconscious mind that only found it possible to express your sexual feelings through violent dreams and fantasies. The list is potentially endless.

Perhaps some people really do have less emotional and identity issues to work through after coming out. Perhaps they never denied or repressed their feelings as totally as others of us. Or perhaps they really can heal instantly. But not all of us are like it. To us, facing and admitting our sexual orientation -- whether to ourselves or to others -- is merely the beginning of the next stage of a difficult journey, not the end of one.

While surfing the web tonight, I came across a book I'd never heard of before. The title is From Boys to Men: Gay Men Write About Growing Up. I find myself wondering how closely any of the stories contained in the book resemble the experiences I'm working on writing about. One of the reason I started writing about my own sexual self-discovery is because I feel like the topic is not well covered. So it would be interested to see if this book is a sign that there's more out there than I realize. It would be a pleasant discovery if that is the case.

I've added the book to my wish list. I'd buy it outright, but I think I spent enough money today. I got a laptop in the price range I expected. But by the time I added all of the extras I decided to get with it (including a new wireless router for the house), the bill was a bit...shocking.

Earlier tonight (before it became tomorrow), I took the time to write about the weekend I decided to come out and the emotional crisis that led up to it. It surprised me how easily much of the emotion I felt that weekend came back to me. In some ways, writing about it meant reliving it, and it was a strange experience.

Of course, this time around, the feelings weren't nearly as strong. Instead, they were more a ghost of events and feelings long gone. Back then, I was afraid that all of the feelings were going to consume and destroy me. Tonight, the worst they will do is chase a smile from my face until I get some much needed sleep.

And in some way, I find the return of these emotions comforting. Not because I have any desire to return to the constant torment I felt back then, but because it means that I'm still connected to that person I was. I can still identify so completely with my past that I can draw on it for strength, insight, an even wisdom without becoming lost in it or controlled by it. And that is a wonderful feeling.

I'm beginning to realize that this writing project is meant to serve a dual purpose. So far, I've been focused on how it might help others who are going through many of the same things -- or even just similar things -- that I did. But now I also see that it's also a chance for me to again connect to my past, understand how it led me to the presence, and discover just how I've grown from it all. And perhaps that's something I need right now, too.

Tonight, I wrote the next chapter in Journey, the one that talks about my first attempt at love, or something that I thought resembled love at the time. Surprisingly, it was a pretty easy piece to write. Of course, it helps that I've written about that relationship elsewhere before. (In fact, I may dig up those old diary entries and look into supplementing what I wrote tonigh with some of their content.)

Of course, this marks a point in my story that has me somewhat afraid. This is the point where I start talking about my experiences prior to 1996. It's time to delve back into some of those emotionally trying times, and the things my psyche did to survive my youth. And it's appropriate that I start writing about these things at this juncture. After all, it was towards the end of my relationship with "Chris" that some of those things started coming back to my conscious attention. Indeed, they contributed to the rapid decline of our relationship, as I was forced to deal with emotional wounds I had hidden for years.

I find myself in an interesting position. I want to go there, yet part of me dreads it. I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose it's in part because I'm afraid of what pain I might still find there. Will I be fortunate and only find the kind of "ghost emotions" I experienced when I wrote about the weekend I came out? Or will I find something more difficult to deal with?

Of course, there's also the fact that I'll be sharing some deeply personal things. And a much as I feel I need and want to do so, I have to admit the idea still scares me in some way. I won't let that stop me, as I feel it's right to press on. But perhaps a bit of tenderness towards myself as I work through this part of the story is in store, all the same.

Since I first began to check out Misty Irons this weekend, I've spent a certain amount of time looking over her site and blog. I find her search for truth refreshing and inspiring. Also, I admire her honest desire to create and facilitate dialogue. So when I ran across her three part series on how queers and conservative Christians "talk past each other, I was more than a little fascinated. For this entry, I'm going to focus on the contents of Part 1, where she talks about her initial difficulty in understanding gay pride.

In all reality, both my personal experiences and my observations have led me to conclude that gay pride is a difficult concept for most queers to understand when they're first coming to terms with their sexual orientation. I remember the first year or two of my own journey where the whole idea made no sense. I remember telling my friends, "I may be able to accept that I'm gay, but I see no point in being proud about it." I also argued that it made no more sense to be proud of being gay than it did to be proud that I had blue eyes.

Just as Misty had to get a clearer picture of the coming out process and the difficulty and self-hatred that is usually involved in the early stages of the coming out process to understand the subsequent pride, I had to go through that process before I could truly appreciate and even experience that pride for myself. And I've noticed the same lack of understanding in the handful of other gay people (mostly men) I've known while they're going through that stage of their life again. So it only makes sense that non-queers would only be able to understand the idea of gay pride only after becoming familiar with the processing leading up to it.

This is where Misty notes that not everyone who is gay talks about this early period of self-hatred. In fact, she goes so far as to suggest that its discussion is practically forbidden in the gay community:

It was a strange thing, then, for me to learn that when someone who is gay makes such an honest admission, they are practically shouted down by fellow gays for “self-hatred.” The very admission that helped to open up my mind and heart, just enough to encourage me to keep on digging, is considered a heresy in the gay community.

Again, based on my own experiences and observations, I am inclined to agree with her assessment. And like her, I find this state of affairs troubling -- both for the reasons she mentioned and my own. To that extent, I think it's important to consider what motivates this push for silence.

First, I think that we must face the simple truth that we as humans prefer to avoid that which causes us pain -- or even makes us uncomfortable -- whenever possible. The early stages in the journey to self-acceptance are often extremely painful. Even among those who were raised in "gay-friendly" family environments, there's often still a certain amount of discomfort in the coming out process. For those of us who were raised in environments that took a much more negative outlook on homosexuality, the process can be downright hellish. I don't think it's any that wonder we might be a little hesitant to drudge that back up or put it on display for others.

Of course, this explains why an individual might not want to expose their own past pains. It does not explain why an individual would actively discourage another person from doing so. It does not explain why we are so quick to silence those going through the process and haven't fully escaped that self-loathing or sense of resignation to move into actual self-acceptance and self-affirmation.

My personal theory on that one is that we silence them because seeing their pain reminds us of our own. Allowing those who are still on the journey to speak too strongly of these things reminds us of that past we'd like to move beyond and forget about. Unfortunately, attempting to silence them robs us of something the experience offers us: an opportunity for deeper, more complete healing of our own pains.

I also believe that in some ways, it's a well-intentioned attempt at protecting the person who is hasn't reached the point of self-acceptance. To put as fine a point as possible on it, admitting that one wishes one wasn't gay is a pretty good invitation to the proponents of ex-gay therapy to offer you their alternative. That's an alternative that many of us have tried and failed at, sometimes at great personal cost. So the thought of seeing someone else open themselves up to going down that road themselves can cause some pretty strong reactions. And it is not surprising, however unfortunate it may be, that sometimes, the reaction results in strongly discouraging someone from making such statements.

Ultimately, I think this kind of reaction is more harmful than good. Not only does it prevent would-be supporters from fully understanding us, but it also has negative effects on us. Not being able to be open about our experiences and feelings only inhibits us from finding healing and wholeness. Hopefully, this truth is something that we as individuals and a community will come to understand and seek to change the way we handle these issues in the future.

Today is National Coming Out Day. As such, I felt it entirely appropriate to talk about the subject of coming out of the closet. Rather than focusing on the benefits of coming out of the closet (something Peterson Toscano and others has already covered quite well), I thought I'd offer some practical bits of advice and thoughts on the whole coming out process.

I think the most important thing to keep in mind is that it is a process rather than an all-or-nothing proposition. I don't have to tell my best friend, my boss, and my mother all on the same day. (Though if my best friend is lousy at keeping secrets and knows my mother, I might want to take extra care in deciding what order to come out to them in.) Personally, I'm not very out at my current job and that works for me. But then, I'm not very close to any of my coworkers and we tend to travel in very different social circles outsides of work. So I don't have to worry about leading a double life and keeping two worlds from colliding.

Also, it's been my experience that coming out to new acquaintances is much easier than coming out to long-time friends and family members. This is because I don't have a lot of emotional energy invested in the relationship with new acquaintances. If a new person in my life is uncomfortable with the fact that I'm gay, it's easier for both of us to walk away. It's not nearly as painful, so the risk of rejection is easier to take. And coming out to new acquaintances gives me the opportunity to make sure that I get the whole issue out of the way before building the deep friendship I'd then be afraid of harming by coming out later.

When it comes to acquaintances, especially new ones, I'd also point out that there are many ways to come out without even saying, "I'm gay." Coming out can be as simple as mentioning that my boyfriend and I went to see the new movie that came out last Friday and we both thought it was terrible. Or I can simply mention that I think the guy walking down the sidewalk across the street is kind of cute.

The nice thing about that kind of approach is that it replaces the idea of a scary declaration into a natural comment that can be offered as a simple aside. After all, heterosexual people are talking about going to the movies with their boyfriends and girlfriends all the time. And enough heterosexual guys voice their opinions about the women passing by. So it stands to reason that it's perfectly natural and normal for us to act similarly. And if it shatters a few assumptions on the part of those around us, all the better.

I will admit that such an approach doesn't feel natural at first. But I can say from personal experience that it does get easier. And I've noticed that in general, most people get over their initial shock fairly quickly. After all, they'd have a hard time justifying a complaint about such an off-handed comment without it becoming obvious that they're the ones making an issue out of your sexuality. And a great many people simply take the whole thing in stride.

Note that I'm recommending this approach for people one has just met or have a fairly casual relationship with. The bonds between close, long-time friends and family members require a bit more sensitivity and a personal touch when it comes to coming out. With a close friend or family member, I would always choose to sit down and have a talk which involves expressing my sexual orientation in a personal manner that is appropriate to a relationship.

As I said, coming out to close friends and family members is much more frightening due to the emotional investments involved. Being rejected by a close friend or family member hurts deeply, and no one wants to face that. However, this is where coming out to people we have casual relationships with first shows its second benefit. By coming out to acquaintances and people I've just met, I've built up confidence. I now know that the world doesn't end just because I tell someone I'm gay. And I know that people can still accept and love me despite knowing that I love and am attracted to other men. And if people who are just meeting me for the first time can still be accepting, I can be confident in most cases that the people who already know me and love me will continue to want to do so after coming out to them. After all, they know the kind of person I am, and nothing I tell them will change that.

It may take some time for some loved ones to come around. They will have to get over their initial shock (but then again, didn't I go through some of that myself?), but in the vast majority of cases, love will win out. And my experiences have born this truth out and convinced me of its veracity.

Of course, I don't recommend that anyone put themselves in danger by coming out. If there's a very real danger of losing one's job, coming out to one's boss just isn't worth it. If one is financially dependent on parents who would disown a gay child (and sadly, such parents still exist), then it's best to wait. But part of the trick is learning to distinguish between real dangers and dangers that are a matter of fear and perception only. And that takes practice. So find a situation that involves a level of risk you're comfortable with and start practicing. In the end, it's well worth it.

Tonight, I rented and watched a copy of Rock Haven. This movie is the tale of young man, Brady, who moves to a new town (I get the impression it's actually a small island off the west coast based on clues from the movie). Brady is a quiet young boy raised in a conservative Christian environment, planning to head to Bible college at the end of summer. However, Brady's plans and life become quite upset when he meets his new neighbor, the nineteen year old Clifford who comes from a non-traditional background (his mother appears to be a part of the New Age movement). As the movie progresses, the two boys become friends and fall in love. Indeed, the entire plot revolves around Brady's struggle to come to terms with his feelings for Clifford in light of his faith.

Let me first say that as I've lived some aspects of Brady's life, I am struggling not to be too critical of the movie. The writer, director, and actor set a monumental task for themselves by taking on the challenge of trying to portray this subject matter in a seventy eight minute movie. There is simply no way for them to truly portray the struggles -- not to mention the intensity those struggles reach -- in such a short amount of time. If I were to measure their portrayals against my own experiences without considering this fact, I would have to call the movie a complete failure. However, given the time constraints, I admit that they did a fair job.

I think that one of the things the movie did quite well was to demonstrate how lonely this struggle can be. As Brady first reacts poorly to Clifford's advances, Brady realizes that the "problem" lies within himself and he feels drawn to Clifford despite what he believes about such attractions. And yet, he realizes that there is no one he can turn to. He suffers through this alone. Certainly, he goes to the pastor of his church a few times to discuss Clifford, but he takes care never to tell the pastor the whole truth. I recognized this self-editing and self-imposed isolation all too well and found myself thinking of my own past.

The movie also does well to demonstrate that this struggle ultimately affects everyone around Brady. Clifford finds himself facing a new challenge each time he comes into contact with his love. Brady's mother confesses that she can feel the walls building between herself and her son. Even Peggy, the girl that Brady's mother tries to fix him up with (with the help of Peggy's own mother, of course) is the occasional target of Brady's frustrations.

I did feel that the movie lost me after Brady and Clifford spent the night together. Perhaps it was because my own life took a different path (I actually clung to my first lover for dear life out of a sense of desperation), but Brady's choice to seek help afterwards just seemed ill conceived to me. It seemed too unreal to me for Brady to lay in bed with another man and talk about being safe, yet turn around and decide to abandon his love and try counseling after a single conversation with his mother. Perhaps if the movie had done more to re-instill the sense of guilt over a couple more scenes, it would've made more sense to me.

I will say that the conflict between Brady and his mother was well done, (though not as well as the conflict between young Aaron Davis and his mother in Latter Days. The scene where the two talk in Brady's bedroom after he announces he's not going away to get help was truly touching and showed the pain of two people who love each other facing off from immovable points of view. Of course, I particularly loved the extra touch where Brady announced to his mother that he forgave her.

The other part I loved about the exchange was when his mother told him that he was making the biggest mistake of his life by staying. Brady simply responds by noting that he has already made the biggest mistake of his life (presumably letting Clifford fly to Barcelona to live with his father). I think most of us who went through a period of denying our sexuality can identify with those sentiments. I know that as I watched this movie, I found myself thinking of my teen years and what I might have done with them had I come out to myself sooner.

I decided to post my favorite joke, since I was writing it up for another site, anyway.

John came from a relatively conservative hometown and had great parents. He went away to a college about three hours from home. During his first semester there, he came out to himself. After a few months, John decided he really needed to come out to his parents. So he called them and let him know that he'd be home that weekend.

On the drive home, John decided it would be best to tell his mother first. He figured it would be easier to talk with her and then have her help in breaking the news to his father.

As he arrived home and opened the front door, he was greeted by the smells of his mother's home cooking. "Mom!" he called out.

Her voice carried through the house despite its soft tones. "I'm in the kitchen getting supper ready!" He wandered back, slightly nervous but determined. Once he reached the kitchen, he found his mother standing in front of the stove, dutifully stirring the contents of a large pot with a wooden spoon. "Did you have a pleasant drive home, dear?"

"Yes, I did." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Mom, I need to talk to you."

She continued stirring as she replied, "Okay, dear. I'm listening."

"Mom, I've been doing a lot of soul searching at school, and I don't really know how else to say this. Mom, I'm gay."

She continued to attend to her cooking without speaking. After several moments, he broke the silence. "Mom?"

"I heard you," she replied in her usual tone, not betraying her thoughts or emotions.

John shifted nervously. "Don't you have anything else to say?"

After a moment, she paused stirring looked out the window. Finally, she asked, "Does this mean you like putting other men's things in your mouth?"

Suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going, John shifted and stammered. "Well, yeah, I guess."

Quick as lightning, his mother turned to face him, wielding her wooden spoon like a weapon. She brought the utensil smashing down on his head with a large cracking sound. He was still stunned when she brought her face inches from his own and hissed, "I don't ever want to hear you complain about my cooking again!"

This afternoon, I went to a free screening of Anyone and Everyone. The screening was sponsored by WXII, ImageOut, and the GAGV.

The movie was a one-hour documentary about a handful of families with gay children. (As an aside, I should note that "children" in this post is used to describe a family relationship, as everyone in the documentary was over the age of eighteen, as near as I could tell.) Both children and parents alike talked openly about the coming out experience and how everyone responded to the situation and handled the revelation. The families themselves were from varied backgrounds. Families from liberal and conservative backgrounds as well as religious families (including one Mormon family) participated in the documentary. Also, various ethnicities and various geographic regions were represented.

As each family told how their child came out and shared their emotional experiences and how they handled the situations, the viewer got a strong sense of the variety of responses that gay children face when "breaking the news" to their parents. They even told the heartbreaking story of one young man who was thrown out of his own home upon coming out to his mother. Fortunately, for that particularly guy, he found a family willing to take him in.

Fortunately, the rest of the families came to some level of acceptance and found a way to maintain their relationships with their children, though the road was not always smooth. Indeed, some parents admitted to starting out trying to change their children at first. In fairness, it was good to see one lesbian in the documentary admit that she could've handled the coming out process a bit more tactfully and sensitively. I felt this helped to remind everyone that we kids make our share of mistakes in the coming out process, too.

One of the most touching parts of this movie for me was to hear some of the fathers' responses. At least two families told how upon finding out, the father immediately wanted to call their gay son. The one wanted to reassure his son that he was loved no matter what. Another wanted to call and apologize, because he realized that he had said some things that were hurtful, especially now that he knew his son was gay. In a world where most gay men expect our fathers to be the most upset due to our sexuality, it was moving to see fathers who showed such deep concern and compassion for their sons in such an instant way. The fact that these men were not the type to be accepting right away (both had come from conservative upbringings) merely underscored just how meaningful their immediate actions were.

After the movie, the GAGV invited some of their local speakers to hold a panel discussion. I hope to review the highlights of that discussion in my next post.

For those who may be interested in seeing this movie, both screening information and ordering information is available on the movie's website. (See the link in the first paragraph of my post.)

In my last post, I reviewed the movie, Anyone and Everyone. In this post, I want to briefly discuss some of the highlights from the panel discussion that the GAGV hosted after the screening I attended.

The panel consisted of four people. The first two people was a woman and her gay son. Her son is highly active in the GAGV Youth program. The two of them shared their experiences from when he came out to her. The other pair were a married couple who also had a son come out to them. Likewise, they shared their own experience. Then the audience was invited to ask questions or offer their own comments. Much of the question period focused on how people could further help our gay and lesbian youth, as well as help them during the coming out process. A few also commented on the realization from the movie that parents of gay children often have their own coming out process, a concept the parents on the panel were able to offer more insights on.

One brave young woman spoke up with a somewhat different question. She told of her initial attempt to come out to her own parents. She indicated that her parents' reaction was so bad that she eventually told them it was all a lie and that she had just been frustrated with her boyfriend at the time. Tonight, she was looking for advice on what to do, because she realizes she still needs to come out to her own parents, but isn't sure how to proceed from here.

I think that one of the most remarkable things was that everyone on the panel as quick to express understanding with regards to her choice to go back into the closet with her parents, and rightfully so. I'd imagine the young lady probably feels a great deal of guilt over making that choice, let alone admitting it to a theater of sixty or so relative strangers. So it was appropriate that they addressed that first. They then went on to encourage her to try again, but to take her time and be sure she's ready. They gave her a lot of advice, including suggestions on literature she might want to acquire and even that she might want to consider counseling to help her through what could be a difficult process.

Towards the end of the discussion, I decided to speak up and offer a few comments of my own. One of the things that I had noted as the discussion had progressed was that the panel consisted of parents who were relatively accepting of their child's sexuality right away. I felt that someone needed to speak up to offer some insight on the other possible experiences, especially after hearing the other young lady speak about her own bad experiences. So I raised my hand and took a deep breath as I received the microphone. I hope to share my own thoughts (although it ill likely be a modified and refined piece rather than an exact quote from earlier) in another post. However, i will say that it was well received and I had more than one person thank me for speaking up afterwards.

Originally posted to Multiply on 6 February 2008.

I've spent the last couple of days thinking about my story about coming out to my parents. I feel like there was so much that I left out. Of course, when I shared them during the panel discussion, I naturally had to keep my comments short, and this meant an extremely abbreviated story. So I shared what I felt were the most relevant points at the time.

However, now that I have more time to spend, I feel it's important to share a bit more. After all, when I talked about how much time it's taken my parents to work through everything, I felt like I was attributing it to them. That's not entirely accurate. In retrospect, I made my own share of mistakes which has probably prolonged the reconciliation process.

The most immediate example is the fact that I came out to my parents well before I was ready. After all, I had only come to accept my sexuality a scant two months before I told my parents. So in reality, I was still emotionally processing everything myself.

Mind you, I don't regret my choice to come out so quickly, mainly because it was the right choice at the time. The week before I had that fateful conversation with my mother, I had made another poor choice, the choice to tell another person about my sexual orientation. Telling that particular person was a horrible error in judgment on my part, and I can only say that I did so in a moment of emotional weakness.

The problem was, I knew that this particular person sometimes wasn't the best at keeping secrets, and I was concerned that news of my revelation could get back to my parents. When I realized this, I decided that if my parents were going to find out, I wanted it to come from me. So I I made my decision to make sure that's exactly what happened.

I made what I still believe was the moral choice. However, the moral choice meant trying to deal with my parents' reactions to my sexuality while still trying to go through the emotional healing and self-acceptance process myself. That was a high price to pay, and I probably wasn't always as understanding and patient with my parents as a result.

Another choice I made -- and I'm not sure whether this one was ultimately a mistake or not -- is that I backed off once I told my mother. Because of her reaction, I let the whole topic drop for a long time. I didn't deny my sexuality, but I didn't bring it up either. I didn't correct my mother a year later when I moved back home and she told me that I wasn't allowed to have "overnight guests of the female persuasion." (Actually, I snickered to myself, thinking that wouldn't be a difficult rule to keep.) In effect, I did allow my parents to linger in their denial and otherwise ignore the whole matter.

Was that a mistake? I don't really know. In some ways, I wonder if I might have sped up the process if I had pushed the issue a bit more at crucial moments. But then, I also think that maybe they really did need that time.

Then there was an incident that I'm almost positive I made a mistake. It was back during the first few months when I was dating Mike. I had met him and taken a picture of him. One day, I printed out a picture of him because I was going to visit friends and wanted to show them what he looked like. My mother saw the picture and asked who he was. I told her he was a friend and left it a that.

I think she knew I wasn't being completely honest with my answer. In fact, even back then, I had the impression she was looking for the real answer. But I chose not to tell her he was my boyfriend. I was afraid to admit it. I was afraid she'd once again go into a tense and brooding silence as a result. And I didn't want to deal with that at the time.

In retrospect, I think she was trying to bridge that gulf of silence that had developed between us when she asked about Mike. Instead of responding with honesty, I chose to reward her efforts by maintaining the wall between us. I have to ask myself what percentage of responsibility for the time it's taken us to be more open since then lies on my shoulders because of that choices. And I wonder what other ways I've shut my parents out without realizing it.

It's something I've been working on recently. That's partly due to my friend, Amy, who did a reading for me while we were at the Naturist Retreat this past August. She told me that I needed to share all of my life with my mother. And as Amy predicted, Mom's been fairly open to it.

Through Benton Quest, I found out about the yearly efforts of Kelly Stern to spread a bit of pride on the blogosphere during Gay Pride Month. In addition to supplying his yearly picture, Kelly has also asked everyone to post a story -- their coming out story being the most obvious choice -- with the image. As I have an entire subdomain dedicated to my journey to sexual acceptance (And I hope to update it in the next couple months), I won't reproduce my coming out story here.

Instead, I'd like to take this moment to talk about why my coming out story matters to me and the implications that my coming out has had for the rest of my life. You see, to my mind, my coming out represented the beginning of a much larger process, my journey to freedom and self-discovery.

Before coming out, I was trapped in a certain self-image, one built on ideas of who I was supposed to be, how I was supposed to behave, and how I was supposed to interact with the world around me. I had accepted others' (and many people were part of that group) expectations and limitations, and tried to fit the mold set out for me.

Coming out as gay was the first step I took in breaking and rejecting that mold. It was the first time where I said, "No, this is not who I am." And in that moment, I was able to ask the frightening, yet liberating question that followed, "Then who am I?"

At that moment, the journey to answer that question began, because I gave myself permission to seek that answer, no matter what. It started out slow and certainly was rocky at times. Indeed, there were more than a few times when I looked back at that broken mold that I hadn't entirely discarded and worried that I was drifting too far from who I should be. But as time went by, I realized that I needed to let myself discover who I was and not worry so much about who I should be.

Years later, I'm still working on answering that question. But as time goes by, I'm finding that I like the answer I have so far more and more. And in that, I have found increasing freedom.