Sleeping With Money: Coming Out of the Closet
Since today is National Coming Out Day, here’s my coming out story blended with this week’s Sleeping With Money series.
I was twenty-eight at the time and already out of the closet at work and with friends. The year was 1995 and I was in love with Partner #1. We were going to be together forever (of course!) so I felt it was time to come clean with my parents. I wanted to be true to myself, live an authentic life and the closet was holding me back.
So I came out. How? I sent my mother an email. Actually it was addressed to both parents, but it was my mother’s inbox so she read it first. She didn’t email back. Instead she called’¦ crying. It was incredibly painful to hear my mother cry. I’ve only seen her cry once or twice in my life. She’s a strong woman. I felt her disappointment, her embarrassment, and then a sense of panic that she couldn’t control or make me something that I couldn’t continue to be. The tears were fleeting though before settling into crisis mode: within days the airline ticket arrived in the mail.
‘œI just want you to come home so we can talk about it,’ she said.
I was living in Connecticut. My family lives in Ohio. It’s a long trip just to have a talk. Partner #1 was convinced she was organizing an intervention ‘“ of the white paneled van variety ‘“ to whisk me off to Exodus International. Everyone in my family is born-again and I half wondered if they were going to gang up on me.
Surprisingly it didn’t turn out that way. The talk was more like family therapy and of course it was facilitated by my mother — who is not a licensed therapist, but thinks she can play one on TV. My parents invited my adult sisters and brother over to the house and we spent the next 4 hours talking about the childhood dynamics of the Smith household. They wanted to understand what went awry and why I turned out to be gay. They needed to blame something because God couldn’t have made me this way.
Once the focus was off me and my gayness, the conversation was actually cathartic for everyone. After all, how often do families get to come together and vent all their baggage from the past? It’s amazing what you learn in this forum. I could write a book… perhaps someday I will.
My father concluded the day by saying that they didn’t agree with my ‘œchosen’ lifestyle, but they loved me. Throughout the years all have continue to live by the ‘œhate the sin, love the sinner’ principle and we get along in a healthy and respectful manner.
I returned to Connecticut and lived my life. Of course, since then I have slept with my share of money over the years and have learned a lot about relationships. Gay or straight, rich or poor, money is a part of life and love. Thanks for letting me share my story.
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