Hey Lube!
Welcome to the Band!
I know exactly what you're feeling! You can actually breath now!
I waited until I was 27 to "come out" to myself. I had always known, but I didn't want to be gay. Then a good friend of my coaxed me out. I'm glad he did.
The first member of my family that I came out to was my sister. She was really cool about it, but she latter told me that in her head she was saying, "Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God."
I never came out to my folks. They found out.
They dropped by the house unannounced one day when my boyfriend and I were doing some spring cleaning. Usually we had this routine where we would
"straighten" up the place whenever there was an unexpected knock on the door.
That day, whe didn't know where we had put all of the "gay stuff," magazines, local gay newspapers, pictures of us at parties kissing, and having a good time.
It didn't take Dad long to find it.
My sister was the first one to get questioned, and her response was, "What about it? Too each their own right Dad?"
I think that they left skid marks in the street in front of the house.
My sister called me later and said, "The cat's out of the bag, and so are you!"
My sister was the "liason" about anything gay for the next three years. Whenever I was around my being gay was "off-topic."
But the silly ass shit that they would say to my sister for her to say to me was more than worth the wait for them to finally come around:
Mom: "We can send a man to the moon, but we can't make a pill to cure gay."
Mom: "I just knew that Dianne (my ex-fiance) was the one who turned him gay."
Dad: "Huh? What somebody talking to me?"
I figured it took me twenty-seven years to accept that I am gay, and it only took them three. So, I'm pretty proud of them.
You're doing GREAT!
Just remember that coming out is also a process.
I'll be by latter with your official "gay card," a "rainbow flag," and your toaster oven!
