FLASHBACK #53: Coming Out (Part 2) - The Dad's Reaction

The moment the letter disappeared in the letterbox, I bit my lower lip. Who knew what would happen now? When my parents read the letter (see here), how would they react? Would they disown me? Would I ever see them again?

I had taken time off work; such was the stress around my coming out that I had to take sick leave. The very next morning, less than 24 hours since I had sent the letter, my mobile phone rang. I looked at the caller display - it was a call from my parent's number in UK! Could they have received the letter already?! Surely not!

Reluctanctly, I answered the phone, pretending not to know who the caller was. Not saying hello or anything, my father said that he had received the letter, he had read it and that he had just one question. He asked: "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" I explained that I was still only 27, quite young anyhow and that some people never tell their families choosing instead to live the lie for fear that they won't be accepted..

I remember feeling relieved that my father was actually talking to me. He was talking to me, a voice I thought I would never hear again. He asked if I was in a relationship and I said yes. This is where the ice broke beause I told him that I had a boyfriend who had been behind me every step of the way. My father tried to stifle a laugh, but broke into a snigger; I was so embarrassed that my dad had correlated the 'behind me' with the act of buggery.

My father said that they needed time to absorb the rest of the letter, but wanted to let me know that I was still their son. It was then that I started crying. As we ended the call, I just sat there on the sofa all alone - months of stress had released from me, but I still felt lonely for I just wanted someone to put their arms around me and there was nobody there.

I called Bree and friends at their own workplaces to tell them the good news and how my father had actually managed to find some humour in perhaps the darkest chapter of my life. How we underestimate our parents, I have to say. After all, they are older than us so I suppose we are treading the steps they have already treaded. What relief!

FLASHBACK #53: Coming Out (Part 1) - Taking A Stand

Spring 2004 was a dark time for me. I had been in a relationship with another man for three years and, still, my parents didn't know that I was gay. The time had come to push the clouds away, stand up as an individual and be honest to those I loved most. The text that follows forms the nine-page letter (when hand-written) that I sent to my parents:

Dear Mum & Dad,

You know, normally I'm able to say what I want to say and sometimes nothing can stop me. I know I have something to say, but I'm having a problem with where to start. I think this letter is going to be a long one and I'll try to write it in a way so that it makes sense. Please sit down and read this together, just the two of you.

I've lived away from home for over two and a half years now and, naturally, I miss home sometimes. During that time and during the period of time that has elapsed since my hearing was restored, life has been like a rollercoaster. Sometimes, life is going so fast it's scary; you were twenty-seven once, you know how it goes.

Being away from home, I have had a lot of time to stop and think about what's going on, what I want to do next and what I would like to do with the rest of my life. This is a luxury that many people my age don't have; most have married and may have started families by now. Their lives are mapped out for them and I sometimes envy them. Not everybody likes to spend time with their family, but since I've been away, I have come to learn that families are important and I'm proud to say that my family have always been my best friends.

I remember when I couldn't sleep as a kid; you used to leave the landing light on for me. And I can't remember a single time when you turned the light off; that's a good parent. I remember when one of my school friends visited us when we lived in London. I was about nine or ten at the time and we were playing in my room. It was time for him to leave, but he didn't want to go. He liked my family more than his own. Ten years later, my girlfriend would feel the same; she loved my family more than she loved me, but looking back, that makes me proud because, yeah, my family ARE nice!

Over the last couple of years, there have been some really 'dark' times and I'm so lucky that I've had a friend around to discuss things with. It had nothing to do with the fact that I wasn't with my family. It had nothing to do with work or a problem with a friend. I have noticed that I have been getting very angry about things; so much so that it affects my daily life, my friendships, my relationship with my colleagues.

The restoration of my hearing bought amazing opportunities, new-found abilities and greater interactivity with the world at large. In one sense, the last three years have been the best years of my life. I am, at least, making up for lost time. But it's difficult.

Moving to Finland was relatively easily compared to how I'm feeling at the moment and I need to get something off my chest. Sometimes, I can be surrounded by people, yet feel very much alone. This is a curse from a childhood where I was very much alone and yearned for friendship. Now, when surrounded by friends, I start to self-destruct. There is a dimension to this self-destruction that has nothing to do with a desire to be liked or a need for attention. It's much deeper than that. As I write this letter, I'm frightened to proceed.

I know it's the job of being a parent when I say you've both had a lot to deal with. That's an inevitable part of parenthood. Combine mine and my sibling’s problems from over the years and just think how well we've all turned out.

Sometimes it's so easy to just fall into despair, become negative and self-critical. When I get into that state, I start to focus on the good things such as my achievements despite the barriers; the charity events I have supported, my ability to hold down a job and educate myself despite the hearing problems, embarking on my new life abroad etc.

What I'm about to tell you has nothing to do with what you have done, as parents, nor what I have done as an individual. After nearly six years since my relationship with my girlfriend ended, I think it's time to be true to who I really am. While it's not what I am, it's something that I feel deep down, something I am unable to shake off. And it's not something I have taken up like a diet. I'm gay.

I know this news will shock, disappoint and hurt you, but I hope I can finally move on, knowing that I'm not hiding something I regard to be really important from the people I love – and don't want to disappoint - more than anything in the world.

I don't know if I have done the right thing in telling you, but I really feel you deserve to know. I would love to have been the ideal son, the football player, the popular guy with the girls, the guy with a wife, kids, dog and a house. But it's not going to happen. God knows I have tried. I was with my ex-girlfriend off and on for over a year and, let's face it, we were always more off than on; that's one of the things I attribute to being who - or what - I am, not because of her own actions. I ended the relationship for my own reasons, not because she wanted to work for her ex-boyfriend.

I have told you because I know, after six years, what I want. I don't expect instant acceptance of my news. I don't expect you to shake my hand, throw your arms around me and declare your pride. I'm not proud of having turned out the way you wouldn't have wanted me to be, but nor will I reduce myself to feel ashamed of being what I am; I've spent enough time crying about that. I've tried to be different, but it's everybody else who sets to benefit from that. Why deprive myself of the joys of life - which I believe everybody deserves - when there's just one thing that's different about me compared to the others? You don't even have to acknowledge that I am what I am, but one thing I really hope for is that I can introduce you to all my friends; my hearing friends, my deaf friends, my straight friends, my foreign friends, my gay friends.

It's taken me a lot of time to write this letter; two years, in fact. I don't know what you must be feeling right now, but if it's shock, that's to be expected. It might even be that you suspected all along that I was gay. Whatever the case, it's out in the open now. I'm sure you have many questions, but please don't ask why. Society doesn't know where we come from, but life is short and I just want to enjoy it. You probably have 101 – or more - questions. You probably have many fears, be they about me and my health or about others knowing. Be assured that you are the only people close to me who know. I'm prepared to keep it that way. I'm not the stereotypical gay boy; I won't dance down the street, singing 'I Am What I Am'.

I do love you and this isn't something I am doing to hurt you.