VOICES | The Simple Truth
by Scott MacDonald
Coming Out Quandaries
Telling the family is one thing, but the days that follow coming out can be the real challenge. The poignant issue of telling the truth.
The simple truth is that I’m terrible in situations that
force me to come out; specifically, situations with my
own family. I am a logical and sensible guy, but when
confronted with these situations, I often find myself in a
zombie-like state with a checklist of nonsensical symp-
toms. Audible but unintelligible mumbling? Check.
Swiftly darting eyes that could be indicative of a neu-
rological condition? Check. Overwhelming urge to flee
before I’m crushed to death by awkwardness? Big check.
I don’t act this way with coworkers or strangers. I have no problem chat-
ting with my coworkers about weekend plans with my boyfriend or even
telling some random clerk at a video game store what games we play
together. There is no heart-wrenching panic or vacuum of awkwardness
— just me having a conversation with another person.
I am not ashamed of who I am. That isn’t the issue here. For me, it’s the
unknown. What if this person reacts poorly? What if they quote Bible
verses or misinformed scientific studies? What if they try to purify me
with holy water and I actually do burst into flames? OK, that last exam-
ple is unlikely, but this is what my panic-addled brain puts me through.
My experience with my own family has been less than comical. I came
out to my parents in 2006 with mostly disastrous results. Full of con-
flicted feelings and confusion, I hurt myself, which unfortunately be-
came the focal point of the situation. My wounds healed, I moved away
to college, and we didn’t talk about it. I hurt myself again in 2008 and we
didn’t talk about it. Now, in 2012, after being in a relationship for over 2
years with someone I love, we still barely talk about it.
I used to resent them for their poor reaction and handling of the situ-
ation — I sought help and I didn’t receive it. The isolation and loneli-
ness created by that silence, mixed with shame for even bringing it up
in the first place, made my situation even more difficult to handle. In
retrospect, though, I understand their myopic judgment and lack of
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direction. I was always the “good kid.” They never had to worry about
their straight-A, dedicated, loyal son who never drank, smoked or fell
in with the wrong crowd. The son who loved education, writing, video
games, and who could stay out late on school nights because they knew
he wouldn’t do anything foolish.
The truth is simple.
It’s what comes
after the truth that
is difficult.
I took their near-perfect image of me and shattered it. I became the op-
posite of what they knew and they didn’t know how to handle it.
I look at those days realistically, though. We both made poor decisions
and there’s no point in blaming anyone for anything. These events are
just bullets on a list — itemized disasters of a person’s life — and we all
have them. We live it, we learn from it, and we move on.
All of this, though, stands in stark contrast to perhaps my deepest con-
flict. For all the people I’ve come out to in my life — friends, my parents,
coworkers, even strangers — I’ve yet to come out to my grandparents.
And despite all the outcomes of these situations, which run the gamut
from cripplingly negative to soul-enriching positive, I can’t do it and
even if I wanted to, I don’t know how.
November 2012