Out!

Coming out for gay men is usually a production number that can rival Belle Stars and the VIP dancers. Mine wasn’t so.

The first time I came out was to to my activist friends. They just asked me point blank if I am gay (if I remember correctly, it was after a couple of drinks), and I candidly said yes without even accounting for my non-existent bi years.

I think it was the time when I was really into this guy who was definitely gay but nobody dared ask. But anyway, my friends just said “good.” And it was.

It was good to finally be able to admit that any romantic notion with the Gabrielas is not a foreseeable life for me. It was good to finally be able to say the word without fear (yes, my friend Ryeness, so Broken Hearts Club). It was like the past has finally been put in its place and the future has been put in a clearer perspective. The present is still in the making.

A few hours ago, I learned of my second coming (beat that JC, a second coming) out .

My sister - the best in the world in my opinion, of course – said that she told my mother of who I am. To cap the great revelation, she told my eldest brother as well. She should have been with the KBP.

Seriously though, I am thankful. When one does not have a clear a idea on how to proceed, a slight push is always welcome.

And how did they react? My mom tried to deny it at first. My sister’s power of persuasion was just too much that she just said in the end: “ganun ba?”. My Kuya just said that it’s fine by him but he’ll pull my hair out if I get myself a boyfriend. That’s a bridge I have to cross when I see him again.

All in all, I guess it went better than many gay guys have to contend with when outting to his own family. It’s funny that the people who are supposed to love us are usually the ones we dread coming out to.

But I am confident now that however they look at gayness, my mom will still love me as her child and my bro will still treat me as his youngest sibling whose choices he has respected ever since.

I know that there’ll be moments of serious talks in the near future, but the stage has been set.

No, my coming out/outs was/were not a production number. Maybe I had it easier than some of us. The fear factor of the whole brouhaha did not figure prominently in my case.

Remember that feeling when one dreads something and as it turned, it wasn’t worth sweating it out at all? Then you just wanted to blurt out, “yun lang yun?”.

Still, I just wish for a time to come when coming out for anyone won’t be a production number. Or a number at all..

(May 17 is the International Day Against Homophobia or IDAHO. It was on this day in 1990 when the World Health Organization removed homosexuality from their list of mental disorders. This is a just personal post for the said event.)