I did not like coming out but I know I needed to.
So at 15, I didn’t know anything about sex, anything about being gay or anything of that sort. I was a sheltered child.
I had a guy friend, I thought he was cute and I thought it was normal to find friends attractive. He asked to do stuff. We’d email things we’d do to each other back and forth. I liked guys. And I realized I was gay.
I realized I was not what I thought I was. I compared myself a lot to my brother. I was constantly called a fag or gay while not even knowing what it meant. I knew I was different. And I didn’t think anything of it.
Telling my mother was difficult. She was always protective.
I wanted to tell her, and I knew I wanted to be in a public space.
I kept trying to figure it out.
“I need to tell you something,” I said to her. “You know that guy Eric? – That’s my boyfriend.”
She replied, “I know and so do your aunts.”
We sat down and talked some more.
“You would have saved me a lot of trouble if you just had told me.” I said with relief.
After coming out, I was very open about sexuality. But at the same time I made no spectacle of it. It was an “ask but don’t tell” sort of deal.
When I got older I had sex with girls. It’s not a big deal. Those girls are lesbians now. I don’t consider myself bi. But I am attracted to girls too, I’m willing to have sex with a girl, but I’m very picky.