Coming out for me was a process, not a moment. I didn’t even realize I was gay until halfway through high school. I wasn’t the type of kid who had crushes plastered all over my notebooks or a secret obsession with anyone. I just… didn’t think about it much. I figured I was a “late bloomer” or something. But then, junior year, there was this guy in my art class. He wasn’t anything like the people I usually hung out with—he was funny, kind of shy, and had this ridiculous laugh that made you want to laugh with him. I caught myself thinking about him more and more, and one day, it hit me: “Oh. This is a crush.”
It was a lot to take in. My family isn’t super religious or anything, but they’re traditional in a small-town values way. We had dinner together every night, went to church on Christmas, and no one ever talked about stuff like being gay. I knew they loved me, but I had no idea how they’d react. So, I decided not to tell them. Not yet, anyway. Instead, I told my sister. She’s a couple of years older and the most open-minded person I know. I think I blurted it out while we were watching TV or something. She didn’t even flinch. “Cool,” she said, like I’d just told her what I wanted for dinner. “Does this mean I can set you up with my friend Jake?”
It took me a couple of years to tell my parents. I was in college by then, visiting home for the weekend. We were sitting in the living room, just talking, and I decided to go for it. I told them I was gay, and there was this long pause. My mom looked confused, and my dad kind of nodded but didn’t say anything. Then my mom said, “Are you sure?” like it was something I could be mistaken about. I laughed because what else could I do? “Yeah, I’m sure.” It was awkward for a while, but they didn’t yell or cry or anything. They just needed time.
Now, things are pretty normal. My mom still asks a million questions, and my dad still doesn’t say much about it, but they’ve been supportive in their own way. I think they’re just figuring it out like I did. I don’t need them to wave a flag or anything—just knowing they’re trying is enough. Looking back, I think the hardest part wasn’t coming out; it was learning to be patient, with myself and with them. It’s not perfect, but I’m happy, and that’s what matters.
