Being the only student in my Catholic highschool to come out and never experience any form of bullying from anyone is something I’ll always appreciate…but coming out to my family was a different story.
My mom and I never had the best relationship, but we were trying. One night, she came into my room and wanted to talk on my bed before she slept. One thing led to another and before you know it I told her I liked guys. We both started crying and when I said I was scared she was going to throw me out of the house, she replied with, “I could never hate my son. I love you"
The next day, I felt like a huge weight was removed from my shoulders and that I’d finally have that mother-and-son relationship that I always wanted. However, when I came home I was bombarded with yells from my sister and cries from my mother.
“Why the fuck did you tell mom!”
“You’re not well… you need to see a priest!”
“You know she’s old fashion. Why did you think she’d be okay with it?”
“You’re possessed by the devil! You need help! Let me help you!”
At that point, I took my bicycle and went to the nearest park and sat on a bench. I’ll always remember that day because I just sat there contemplating where I would go and cried for a good four hours. Later that night, I snuck back into my room and took some of my belongings and left. In an hour and half bus ride, I found myself in front of my cousin’s house and told him what happened. I think I stayed there for about 3 weeks and when I finally went back home, it was as though nothing happened.
Thinking about it now, it was probably a lot for a 15 year to go through. I never got that mother-and-son relationship, but I did get a sense of independence growing up and learned that sometimes family doesn’t come first. I’ve learned that sometimes your friends can save your life when you’re constantly being told that somethings wrong with you. But I think the most important thing I’ve learned that it’s okay to be different and to always appreciate how strong you had to be when you went through rough times