1.28
I need to think about all the things that I’m good at and not good at, and that I like and don’t like. And that will help me a lot, I think.
I’m good at big (important, hard) things, and bad at small (easy) things.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I wonder when my last letter will be. The one right before I tell you. Could this be it?
I am out of excuses. I have nothing left. We sat around the kitchen table talking about Barack Obama’s inauguration. Mom, you asked me what Stonewall was.
Today.
Today you went to lunch with S, Dad. She told me that you asked her about me. Why don’t I date? Why am I not interested in dating? You don’t care who I date — man, woman — you just wanted me to be happy. When S told me this, I felt suddenly unbearably sad. Which makes no sense because it means a lot, it means just about everthing. But I got so sad so fast. Maybe because I knew I’m out of excuses and out of time.
I didn’t think I’d be this big of a coward.
In my head, I was trying to rationalize, to figure out how much time has gone by since I knew, and I thought, well it’s only been about two years. But that’s not true, it’s almost three now. Times is going by so fast, and I don’t want you to miss my life or the real me. I don’t want to miss my life either.
The reason why I have to tell you is so that I can move on with my life.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Last night was the perfect chance for me to tell you. I always have excuses and last night I couldn’t think of one.
When Ron asked me whether I was dating (I said no) and whether I was looking (I said no) I saw you watch me. You guys don’t really ask me those kinds of questions. So you really watched me and I said no, and begged the subject to change. When he left, and the three of us were alone, I could have said:
When Ron asked me whether I was dating or wanted to date, I said no but that was not the truth. And you would look at me curiously, waiting for me to go on.
And I’d say, I do want to date. I have dated a little.
And maybe you’d be happy for a moment because you’d think this meant that I am normal and dating and happy and just super private and now I’d clue you in, but I’d stop that as fast as I could and say.
I do want to date but I don’t want to date boys. Or Men. I want to date women.
And I don’t know if you’d be standing or sitting at that point. Maybe earlier, I’d say. Maybe you should sit down. We’re in the kitchen, of course.
Your loving daughter,
Dear Mom and Dad,
I don’t know if there ever be a right time for this, when I’ll feel compelled. I think it would be when I’m in a relationship. But I’d rather not wait until then because there will be so much more to take in and explain and accept for you. I like one thing at a time.
A part of me is nervous because it never feels like the right time. Should I wait?
I’m 24. I’ve been out of college for 1 year and 8 months.
The reason why I hesitate is not because I fear a bad reaction. I know you will come to accept this, and will not waver for a second in your love for me. I’m sure of this.
I’m most scared of losing the little things. I’ve been told, even in the best case scenario it will take a bit of time to adjust. I am selfish and don’t want anything to be weird between us because I love us. I love our comfort level and I’d hate for anything to get in the way of that.
But I think it’s time for you both to meet this part of me.
Your loving daughter,
Discovering later in life that you are gay is like looking at a screen.
It’s as if you have spent your life staring at a dimly lit screen. But the thing is that you don’t know that it is dimly lit. You think that that is all there is. That everyone has to strain their eyes to see the words, and that everyone lives their lives without a certain brightness. Or maybe you wonder sometimes.
Then one day your finger hits a key, by mistake. And the screen brightens. You keep hitting it, brighter and brighter it goes.
You can’t believe it—how bright the screen is. How easy it is to see. How dumb you were to not have realized it could be like that. All that time you wasted.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I don’t think I’ll ever give you this letter. I’d like to be able to tell you in person. I should be able to tell you in person. Around the kitchen table. Like this morning when we talked about insurance. And like so many other conversations. I think we’re good at talking, most of the time.
This will be a harder one, though. For me. And for you. For me, your reactions will be a surprise. I don’t know what to expect. And that’s kind of hard. Not to know. Not to know whether in the minutes before I tell you it will be the end. Not of us, I know that. But of life as we knew it. If it’s the end of however you see me now. And I think that that is true. It will change somethings; I don’t know what exactly, but I know it will.
I’ll try to convey that this is good. That I’m happy. Well not super happy, but so much happier than I used to be, before I know. That much I am sure of. I am a better, happier, stronger person than I used to be.
I’m sure you both have seen and know that the time when it changed was my studying abroad. What you don’t know is that besides me changing because of new friends, and being somewhere new, I also changed because that was the first time that I…
That I found myself attracted to a girl.
And now here I am, 2 and a half years later, and I’m telling you that I’m gay.
I am gay.
I am a lesbian.
I am queer.
I’m not bisexual. I’m not attracted to men.
I am attracted to women. I want to fall in love with a woman, and make a life with a woman.
I can try to answer any questions that you have for me, and I’ll do it with sincerity and honesty. I hope you can show me respect and love in return.
The reason why I waited so long to tell you is because I wanted to be sure. It’s taken me a while to be sure. And then, it just became easy to wait. Not to tell you. But I don’t want to anymore.
I want to start my life. And I need to keep moving forward. And this is a really big step that I need to take in order to move forward.
Your loving daughter,
Dear Daniel,
If you were ever not okay, would you tell me?
Your friend,
“But I want to come out to my family especially because I love them. And when you love someone, you tell them the truth.” - Autostraddle Article
Dear Mom and Dad,
If I were to die right now, today, or tonight, or tomorrow, you would never know. Or maybe you would, if someone else were to tell you later on. Would they? I think about that. If you die too, how bad would I feel that you left this earth not knowing.
That’s why I need to tell you.
It’s time.
I think it might be the best part of me.
Your loving daughter,
