Truth Hurts

my coming out

            I looked at my reflection in the mirror and started crying, “Please, God, don’t let me do this…” but I had done it already. I knew that cutting was not the right answer, but I had to let my frustration come out somehow and that was the only way I knew. I would head to the bathroom making sure neither my brothers nor my mother were around, and I would shut the door behind me. Blood was running through my fingers from where the razor had split my arm; I could feel the warm liquid seeping out of my body, and although I’m terrified of pain, I was enjoying the sensation. Some time after, I realized how bad my arms looked, and I knew that I had to do something about it. My long-sleeved clothes were not going to help once summer came. More importantly, I knew I needed help, so I decided to talk.

“I’m gay,” I told Mother that night when I just couldn’t take it anymore. My double life was killing me. I knew that one more day was not an option, so I decided to come clean before Death came for me. I expected to be yelled at, to get hit, and probably get kicked out of the house; however, she remained quiet. I hated silence, and I still do! Finally, she responded.

            “So you’re not going to get married?” she asked, and I didn’t know what to say. The idea of taking it back crossed my mind, but I stopped when my tongue moved.

            “No.” I answered her question. I was trying to look into her eyes, but she kept staring at nothing and I couldn’t make out anything from them. She tried to hide herself in the shadow of the room because she was aware that there was no turning back.

            “Whatever happens,” she said, “I’m always here; I don’t want you to feel like you have to go away. We are all we need as long as we stay together…and I want to learn from you how to deal with everything. And I want you to know that no matter what the rest of the family says, we do not owe anything to them, so we don’t have to give them any explanation if we don’t want to…” I felt relieved and proud of the woman standing in front of me. I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t. I’m not an ‘I-love-you’ kind of guy; I can’t say what I really feel. Maybe that’s why I found pain as my only antidote to silence.

            I learned about my homosexuality at early age. I had to deal with it on my own because, as in many other cultures, Hispanics do not see it as the right thing. I don’t believe it is either, but there’s nothing much I can do about it. I surmised the rest of my family would have to learn to live with it, or ignore it, just like they have been doing for the last few years. Therefore, my decision on being just who I am took its toll. It always does, but pretending costs far more.

            The next step was to tell my closer friends. I had to, if even strangers could tell by the way I walk, they had the right to know for sure. I had the reactions I expected and wished for from them.

            “Nothing changes our friendship; to the contrary, it reinforces it because this way you are more free to be yourself.” Valerie said.

            “Are you really? That’s cool.” Juan exclaimed.

            “Adrian, I know you now for 3 years. Do you think I didn’t know already?” Kevin told me, “But that’s okay with me. You’re still my Mexican brother.”

            “Oh my God, how come you didn’t tell me before?” Gloria said.

            “I wish my brother was gay,” Flor said.

            “Yeah, I wish your brother was gay too.” I answered laughing.

            This acceptance opened my eyes to the gay world, and then I realized that I still didn’t know what it was to be like me in the outside world where I would run into all sorts of people. I learned that a young gay boy jeopardizes his security when he steps into the real deal: rape, S.T.D.’s, homophobic people, gay bashing, prostitution, and the temptation of drugs are some of the risks we take every single day for the rest of our lives. And I’m sure that most of us have gone through all those moments at least once.

            “Be careful.” Mother told me, and I had been; yet, I can’t control what Fate prepares for me. Hence, I came to reserve those feelings for myself, ignoring the fact that silence would hurt me even worse. After bad experiences in relationships, loneliness came along. My self-esteem couldn’t be lower than the floor, making bulimia return. Suicide seemed to be the only solution to my scream for help, which no one could hear, for I kept it back. My cowardice was the reason I didn’t cut deeper.

            Today, I stare at some of the scars I still have and I realize that my honesty turned out to be painful, leaving its mark in my skin and my soul forever.

Author's Note

A very personal essay I wrote for my final senior paper. Be gentle.

Reviews

[Que]

This is good.
I like how you were straight to the point - no straying from exactly what it was you wanted to say, nor hiding it in any way (or making it seem less than what it was).
I just think that maybe you should make the layout differently. Or do something else, I'm not quite sure what at the moment, but something that would make it seem more like a story (and I know that it's an essay, but seeing as it's about your own life, it is, after all, a story), so that it would impact the reader a bit more, maybe try and add something that would give a bit of a shock or at least make the reader feel what you felt during that time - not just saying things like "It was bad" (I know that's not what you said, lol, it's just to represent what I mean...if that makes sense).
Anyway, great job.
Cheers and have a good day.

[AinuFox]

Amazing and eye opening. Your essay is very well written, and I have to say, condolences brother for your struggle with your sexuality and life must have been hard on you. I also have to say, the way you came out is remarkable, and I also admire your mother for her acceptance despite having her expectations shattered by one word alone. You have very good friends too. I'm glad that you don't inflict pain upon yourself or think bad thoughts about death anymore, or at least I hope you no longer do.

You started it powerfully and ended it strong, you must have received an A on this. I even laughed at Flor's comment about wanting a gay brother and your response to that. I wish I had a gay brother too, but all I have is an annoying older sister, and my parents refuse to bear another child no matter how much I beg. Haha!

Also, thanks for sharing this. If it were me, I'd be too ashamed or embarrassed to even write such a personal essay about myself. I think you are very courageous, and If you ever have the dream of becoming a writer, then I know you'll succeed.

* w *

This was good. I didn't know you went through all of that.

[Jessica]

this is really good. Like seriously good.
It was straight to the point and full of emotion.
(:

[Wandering Violet]

That's a very honest and soul-bearing story to write. Coming out is one of the most important events in one's life. Good on you for putting it down on paper, although it must have been hard to do.