I began my coming out process in high school. The first person I ever came out to was a friend, Mikki, during senior year, the night of the senior prom (which neither of us attended) in 1985. Her reaction was overwhelmingly positive (I think her exact words were "That's so cool!"). The first family member I came out to was my mom, a few years later
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toward your being gay parallels that of my own "male biological parent."
It screamed, "You're making this up just to hurt me!" over the phone when I came out to it back in early 1979. ( Didn't dare try that in person - I did not wish to be badly beaten, or shot and killed!)
I also thought in my mind as you thought:
"Yeah, pop! I became gay JUST to hurt you! My entire life has only been lived for the sole purpose of hurting you!"
My mom, on the other hand, has always been supportive - though she has also told me she wishes I wasn't gay at all.
At age 54? I cannot imagine what it would be like to be straight, nor do I wish to be.
I just want to be accepted in a world that finds it all too easy to give in to hate.
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He hitched from the midwest to Los Angeles, which is where I met him, at a commune. He didn't talk, he just looked down at the ground. An adult informed me: "His parents beat him up and kicked him out of the house for being gay. I guess I'm his dad now."
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