Hello there! Welcome back to the blog! Today we’re reviewing the Morphe brush #82846282. Oops, sorry, wrong blog. This is Part 2 of my series, “7 Stages of Coming Out” — stories of my grappling with sexuality and trying to communicate it with others. You can read Part 1 here where I come out of inadequacy and requirement. And now for the third stage . . .

3. Coming Out of Blue Striped Shirts

I asked God for a sign. I wanted it to be uncommon but also not impossible. I wanted to be sure it was actually coming from Him.

Looking at the blue and white striped shirt in my closet, I asked Him to show me ten different people wearing the same shirt — all in one day.

The next day, I went into Uni on the hunt for blue and white striped shirts. On my commute, I saw two. In my first class, I saw one. During my lunch break, I saw another one and another one.

By the end of the day, I saw more than twenty people wearing blue and white striped shirts!

The next couple days I kept looking for more, but I didn’t see a single person wearing blue and white striped shirts anymore.

I’d asked God for a sign; He’d given it to me. It was now time to come out to my mom.

Feeling disappointed after coming out to a guy in my Bible study and then my youth pastor, I grew more apprehensive opening up about my sexuality with other people. The desire to tell people faded, and the thought brushed aside into its little compartment in the aparador.

After about a year, though, the little gay boi in the closet started knocking again and wanted to come out.

The desire to be known started to germinate from that dark, cold, humid corner.

The next person placed on my heart to tell was my mom.

I wasn’t really close to my mom. Living in a third-world country, she had to work hard to provide me and my sister a good life — a life she wanted to be distant from her own growing up, a life in poverty, not eating every day and not being assured of where to sleep the next night.

My only memories growing up with my mom consisted of a couple minutes in the morning and at night.

Sadly, my love language turned out to be quality time, and we didn’t really have much of that.

From my point of view, we weren’t that close and I didn’t feel very loved. Coming out to my mom was probably the hardest coming out I had to do.

Learning from my two previous coming out experiences, I wanted this one to be different. I wanted to present myself as all put together with everything under control. I planned this moment for a long time and did my research.

No matter my mom’s reaction, I’d be ready for it.

I binge-watched coming out videos on YouTube with people filming their parents’ live reactions. I scoured the internet for LGBT-themed movies that revolve around coming-of-age stories from a Christian background.

I wanted to know every possible reaction I could get from my mom so that I’d be ready to respond.

After my research period and that clear sign from God, I scheduled one night to finally come out to my mom. I even told Jake from my Bible study so he could hold me accountable.

We were watching TV in the living room one night, and I told my mom I needed to tell her something. She waited patiently for me to talk as the TV shows finished one by one. It was getting late, and it was as if my jaw were locked and I couldn’t say anything.

With the TV network about to sign off just after midnight, I finally opened my mouth . . .

“I’m gay.”

It was the first time I’d used that word. I used gay because I wanted all the cultural connotations and negative associations that came with it. I wanted an honest reaction, almost looking for the worst possible repercussions.

I wanted to know if, despite all that, I would still be loved.

The rest of the night feels blacked out in my mind. All I can remember was an emotional, tense, yet warm and loving moment. My mom told me she already had a feeling I was gay, and I’d just confirmed it. She asked a lot of questions as she cried, and I was able to answer all of them.

I was able to show myself as all put together and “already knowing what to do,” as my youth pastor had put it — even though it was far, far from that.

It was getting late, so I ended that conversation with my mom and ran to bed.

The next morning, as I was sitting in front of my computer probably playing FarmVille or something, my dad came over and gave me a hug. My mom had told him.

My dad never gives hugs. It’s the only moment I can remember when he tried to hug me. I say “tried” because he came to hug me from the back whilst I was sitting in a chair, nearly performing the Heimlich maneuver.

My dad actually didn’t know how to hug or give affection. His own father had died whilst he was still very young, resulting in his becoming an absentee father himself.

Why did my dad hug me then? Did my being gay spark something in him? Was he heartbroken that his son had to go through life processing all the things that come with growing up gay, alone in the church? Was he guilty that his son had turned out to be gay? Or had my mom just told him to hug me?

My dad’s hug reminded me of this scene from the movie, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs:

The dad in the movie wanted to communicate something to his son, but he didn’t really know how to do so. So, someone placed a “monkey translator” on him so he could communicate what was on his heart.

What was going through my own dad’s mind? I don’t know. I wish I had a monkey translator.

The next few days, my mom tried to reach out and talk more about the topic. But I didn’t want to. It was still too much for me; it still is today, even now.

With my dad, well, that Heimlich hug was the only reaction I got.

It’s now been a couple years since I came out to my parents. Even though I have personally evaded the topic, I also feel like my family dynamic has changed in a lot of positive ways because of it.

Looking back, I believe there was a purpose to that next jolt of coming out. This time, coming out wasn’t just for me; it was also for my family. It somehow prompted my parents to work on things in their own lives — their relationship with one another and with their children.

Even though I’m still not in that healthy place with my own father, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be, I’m relearning the ropes of what it means to have a good father — with my Heavenly Father.

‘Cause I loved you before you knew what was love
And I saw it all, still I chose the cross
And you were the one that I was thinking of
When I rose from the grave

This is a lyric from one of my favourite songs. It speaks of our Heavenly Father’s love. A love that I shouldn’t be scared of, a love that will never fail me, a love that has sacrificed for me.

He is a father who has never been absent in my life, who knows me more than I know myself. A father who weeps with me in times of sorrow and has been rejoicing over me since before I was even born. A father who will always make me feel home.

How has your relationship with your parents changed after coming out to them, for better or worse? What holds you back from coming out to your parents?

About the Author

  • I haven’t told my parents. There are a ton of reasons why, that I won’t go into now. I wouldn’t really know where to start. I don’t use the term gay because I’m actually bisexual and prefer to use the phrase “struggling with same sex attraction”.
    I actually plan on talking with my sister about this tomorrow night when we hang out. Please pray that it goes well!

    • Lol this part:
      I haven’t told my parents. There are a ton of reasons why, that I won’t go into now. I wouldn’t really know where to start. I don’t use the term gay because I’m actually bisexual and prefer to use the phrase “struggling with same sex attraction”.
      is like verbatim what I would say for myself.
      Glad things went well with your sister!

      • Happy to know there are more of us bi guys here on YOB! Parents are complicated….. I think they’d question my salvation in Christ, which is heartbreakingly sad.
        I hope you find some family to share your story with! And of course you can always share it here!

  • While I’m not in the same boat as you, I can certainly relate to this. While I honestly don’t consider myself gay, there is no denying that I have SSA tendencies. Being raised by my mom, I’ve never once even considered telling her for the sole reason that she will make it about her. She will wonder what she did wrong and what not. So it’s something that I’ve not told family members about. Select close friends, yes, but never family.

  • Congrats on your courage Daniel. Your Dad’s reaction was the best. I hope he keeps hugging you like that. It’s important.
    I did not come out until I thought it was safe. Mom was dead, Dad had Alzheimer’s and my church was opening up to the idea of celibate gay people in membership. I was 57 years old when I finally walked out of the closet. Did it at church. Best thing I ever did looking back on it. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off my soul. Very, very freeing.

  • Such great storytelling, Daniel! That visual of your dad-hug will stick with me. I loved learning this chapter of your story. Thanks for boldly sharing it.
    Coming out to my parents ultimately turned us out for the better, though there was a steep learning curve those first few years. How much to talk about it? How little to talk about it? It can be an awkward dance on both sides with new terrain for the relationship. I’m glad for the freedom to talk about such things now. Almost hard to believe I went two decades without it.

  • Daniel,
    This was such a good read! Thanks for sharing. I am sorry you still feel a disconnect with them, but thankful that you sharing has helped your family begin to sort through their relationships with each other. I will pray that you get to have more connection with them in the future.
    As to your questions…
    I came out to my mom shortly after my previous pastor pulled me from ministry when I came out to him (https://www.yourotherbrothers.com/2019/07/02/flirting-with-temptation-when-my-pastor-pulled-me-from-ministry/ ). I knew she loved me, and that she prayed for me an Marie, and I wanted her to know what was going on with us in our church.
    It has been a mostly positive experience. She received it well, and she has also met some of my friends from the Side B world. I am thankful for her prayers.
    However, she is still of a mindset that God can and will take away/change my attractions. She doesn’t think I am living in sin, but she does think I am living in a lack of total surrender to Christ. That is somewhat triggering for me, as it reminds me of all the years of trying to “pray the gay away.” There have also been time when she “trapped” me by deciding to pray at me for without asking, and it’s shut down my desire to engage with her on the topic of sexuality.
    I did not get to tell my dad before he passed. He was very sick and had to go in for emergency surgery. I almost told him before, but thought he already had enough stuff on his mind as he was preparing for surgery. I did not want what was potentially my last memory of him to be about him reacting to my story. So I visited with him for a couple of days with other family around, and prayed for him before he went in. We actually expected him to make it through and be able to go back to a normal life, but he never woke up after surgery.
    I sometimes regret not telling him, but I also felt at peace in my relationship with him. I will probably write about him at some point in the blog.

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