Coming Out to Myself (1 year ago)

My coming out story is a long one. To really tell the whole story, I would probably have to go back to my middle school days… which was when, as best I can remember, it first occurred to me that I might like boys. From that point forward, until I finally did come out last summer, it was a struggle between what I knew to be true, and what I would admit to being true. Instead of boring you with the long saga though, I'm just going to focus on the moment when I came out to myself.

It was last July, and I was riding in a plane on my way to Chicago. My younger brother was there working as a summer intern, along with one of my best friends from college who was there for law school. The trip was just for a long weekend. The plan was to hang out with them, do lots of drinking, and see a Sox game. It was also the weekend of my 23rd birthday, which was how I had managed to get my parents to pay for the plane ticket.

I've always hated reading books on airplanes. I like to be able to finish what I'm reading, and with books, unless you're flying to Australia, finishing a full book is out of the question. I also hate reading newspapers on planes. Opening the pages, flipping them over, switching to a different section – these are activities that require far more physical space than the cramped rows in coach provide. With these preferences in mind, I've made it a habit to always buy a magazine before flying.

I don't remember why, but for this particular flight I chose a copy of New York Magazine. Once on the plane, I started flipping through the magazine, making note of what I wanted to read, and in what order. One particular article caught my attention. It was entitled "Married Man Seeks Same for Discreet Play."

The plane I was on was small: two seats on one side of the aisle, and one on the other – and I was sitting on the side with just one seat. Even with this relative degree of privacy, I was paranoid that someone might see what I was reading. I strategically placed my hand over the title, shifted as close as I could to the cabin wall, and covered the whole thing up whenever I knew the flight attendant would be in the aisle. In short, I didn't want anyone to see what I was reading and draw any conclusions about my sexuality. Such was the degree of my closetedness.

These are all minor details. What matters most is what I read in the article. The article tells the story of a closeted gay man living in New York City. The man is married, has a small child, and works at a well-paying job. And yet, for all his seeming success, his fear of coming out has forced him into living a double life. One life with his family, friends, and coworkers, and another with gay men who he meets on the internet for anonymous sex.

At one point in the article, the man says to the writer, "This is not the life I was meant to live. I don't know what that life is, what it looks like, but I know it's not this. But I don't think most people are living the life they think they were meant to live, so I don't feel that bad." That quote scared the shit out of me. Here was a man who had let his fears about coming out dictate his entire life – he was living a complete and admitted lie.

Reading this man's story, I realized that if I didn't do something, this was who I would become. And so at that moment, sitting on that little commuter plane, sweating like I had just run a marathon, I admitted to myself that I am gay. I also made a pact with myself. I told myself that once I returned home, I would contact a former professor of mine – someone who I'm close with and who is a lesbian – and tell her that I'm gay. Telling someone, I thought, would light a proverbial fire under my ass and force me to make some progress in the coming out process. It was almost like my own little insurance policy so that I couldn't remain in the closet.

I'll leave my story there for now, but my plan worked. When I got home from Chicago I wrote out a long and honest email to my professor. After proof-reading it at least a hundred times, I did what was one of the hardest things I've ever done, I hit the send button.

Why am I sharing this? Well for one, I think everyone's coming out story is interesting. I also think it's helpful for people who are still in the closet to read about how other people have bitten the bullet and admitted to themselves (and the world) that they're gay. I know for me at least, when I was still in the closet, reading gay blogs was very reassuring. Even though I hadn't met these people, just knowing that other people had gone through the same thing was a big help.

Also, if you're interested in reading the New York Magazine article I mentioned, here's a link.