OH MY GOD, I’m gay?!?

That was my reaction when I realized it. Shock. Disbelief. Relief?? I guess my coming out story has to have a starting point, so I’ll start from when I realized that I had been living closeted for most of my life. I was 46 at the time (in 2024)… I had been in therapy for a couple of years, and was working to process childhood traumas and process a lot of stuff that I’d say was ‘unfinished’. A lot of stuff that I had buried deep down. My shame, mostly… shame from never being the exceptional person I was meant to be, or that my grandma told me I was. I was never a popular kid, never was a winner at anything, never really stood out in any positive way. I did stand out as the chubby boy with sometimes bad haircuts, and even more hideous glasses (it was the late 80s and early 90s, they were ALL hideous). I stood out because I was a loner and didn’t really like to be social… I did try, when forced, but it was never something I liked to do. Group work projects were pure hell for me…

anyway… I digress…

There’s a lot to unpack is what I mean… well, buried there in the mud of my shame and childhood miseries was something huge about myself. Growing up when I did, where I did, meant that if you were a boy that wasn’t ‘normal’, you were probably gay or the r-word that we now use more sensitive terms for. I guess I kind of didn’t fit in as a kid, and I definitely was not a ‘normal’ boy. I was a band kid, bookish, stayed inside a lot, and really didn’t like sports or other stuff that regular boys liked to do. My recollection is that I probably sensed this about myself, and the fact that I didn’t particularly find girls all that enticing… I would try to be friends with girls than try to cop a feel. When I started discovering sex and personal pleasure, I loved things that normal boys probably wouldn’t like… I ended up, as most boys do, being caught. In my case, it was when I was trying some of the more… unusual things I enjoyed.

My dad and I… well, we didn’t get along. Nonetheless, when my mother’s drug problems became such that I couldn’t bear it anymore, I took my brother (half brother, technically) next door to my maternal grandmother and asked her to take care of him… and I ended up going to live with my dad. He was hard on me… mostly because he was angry at the world for whatever reasons he had. He didn’t want me to end up miserable like him, so he did what boomer parents would do - he rode my ass about school, lectured and preached sermons, and generally forced me to walk on eggshells all the time. He was also an alcoholic, so that put a little extra hot sauce on everything.

Well, dad caught me in a lie about something I had done that was weird, and that begat questions, and more questions… and eventually, the comment “what? are you gay?!” To which my trauma response kicked in and I blurted out “NO!!!” before I realized what I was saying. From that moment forward, I began a lie. A lie that lasted for over thirty years.

In the aftermath of that event, I started acting more like a “normal” kid. I started hanging out with the guys every day. There were a few boys my age at the time and I was already friendly with them, because why not… and I decided to invite myself into the club. I started playing basketball in driveways, football in the street, riding around the neighborhood on our bikes… just hanging out with the guys. I also started forcing myself to objectify women… not because I wanted to, but that I needed to act like a horny pre-teen boy. I eventually was a really horny teenaged boy. Stole Playboy mags from my grandfather’s stash… I was probably one of the original gooners, too. It was excessive… but eventually, the act became habit, and then my reality. I forgot who and what I was.

As the years went on, I eventually had girlfriends, and then naturally… liasons with them and other women. I sowed my wild oats, and then settled down with my dear wife. Everything was looking like I had it figured out: finished undergrad, worked some shitty jobs, went to grad school, started a new career and became successful in it.

Except… I didn’t have it figured out… and I knew it.

I have always battled mental health issues. It was especially hard in my late teens and early twenties. Then, one day, I said “fuck it” and told myself to be happy… and I was. I thought it was all the power of positive thinking. Boy was I wrong.

The cracks were evident throughout my adulthood… I wasn’t attentive to my wife. I was distracted. I made poor financial decisions, and was also not disciplined with making sure I was taking care of things. This strained my marriage, and sadly, my poor grandma - who loved me more than her own children I think, enabled me by constantly sending me money. I was a great big manchild. My attitude was terrible, I was not the easiest person to be around, let alone work with. I was barely holding it together for so long and then COVID happened. I was finally allowed to stay in my basement and be by myself all day. That’s when the cracks grew bigger.

I changed jobs, a definite and deserved upgrade from my previous one. I worked myself half to death to get where I am now… and it’s a testament to how adaptable I am as an autistic person. My new job (which is my current one) was a huge culture shock for me, and I didn’t adjust well. The cracks became bigger and I was beginning to crumble. By the time 2022 rolled around, I was a total disaster. I knew something was wrong, and decided to seek help.

After months of advocating and fighting for myself, I found a therapist. He’s terrific. He’s more like an old buddy than a counselor. I got myself on some meds… things were turning around, and I was discovering things about myself. I realized that I am neurodivergent, and began working on securing those diagnoses. I processed traumas from childhood and was able to make peace with a lot of things… and then IT happened.

Sometime in the spring/summer of 2024 I realized that I was not really attracted to women anymore. My wife and I weren’t really heating it up in the bedroom by this point, anyway… and not for my lack of trying. I was still whacking it whenever I could, but I noticed that my habits and preferences were changing. I thought, “well, maybe I’m just maturing sexually and realizing I like it all.” Well, no… it wasn’t. I definitely was not feeling the same way toward women… and was feeling a whole new type of way about men.

At first, I dismissed it as a result of not getting any on a regular basis… but over the remainder of that year, I slowly began to accept it. Just before the start of 2025… that’s when it hit me right between the eyes, and I accepted it…

I’m gay.

When I did, my entire mood changed. It was like a weight was removed from my shoulders. I didn’t feel ashamed anymore. Accepting this reality was more life-affirming than getting the diagnoses that confirmed my suspicions about my neurodivergence. Then… the horror set in.

I’m married, twenty-one years by that point and had two teenaged kids (well, one was almost 13). “How the fuck am I going to handle this,” I thought. It was agonizing. I started doing roleplay on Discord with some folks I met in the fandom (I’m also a furry, if you didn’t know), thinking “Yeah, I can do this and that’ll scratch the itch…”

No, dummy… it won’t, said reality.

Then, one day in February 2025… I was taking one of my girls to school and we were being silly (they’re really the only ones I can be silly with IRL), and I was being extra fruity. We were talking about gay stuff, and I let it slip… “well, what if I were gay?” Then saying “yeah… I am…”

Oh no. Ohhh no. Ohhhh no.

I came out to my eldest. In the car. On the way to school. I am a fucking dumbass.

Well, needless to say, she was rocked by this admission. I tried to keep it on the d/l for a few days so I could figure out how to tell the Mrs., but unfortunately my eldest is a carbon copy of her dad and stuff like this eats at her like it would me. The Mrs. notices this and asks her what’s wrong… she won’t say but does say it’s about me… and well… that’s when I had to admit to my wife that the man she’s known for twenty-five years is not who he (and she) thought he was.

Shock. Confusion. Then the anger… so much anger… partially for what I had admitted to my kid before I did to her… but more because she thought I had lied to her and that this was a lavender marriage to cover up my gayness. That I settled for her, because I was too much of a coward to admit to my family that I was gay. A lot of mean things were said to me. I deserved a good bit of it, I guess… and I took it.

This all continued for a few months. We weren’t sure what we were doing… we were in a holding pattern. She started therapy and started working on things. She calmed down and I started an autistic burnout that lasted until probably a few weeks ago. I’ve been through the wringer the last few months… even contemplated taking my own life a few times. I also had some bad experiences with some guys and now I’m afraid to try to get back out there.

I’m not sure what the future looks like with me and Mrs… but I have told her that I don’t want to throw our marriage away just because of this. We already weren’t intimate, so this was not really losing anything (in my view). I know that women process this differently, and I’m giving her grace in that regard. I have told her that I am going to explore my sexuality with other guys (when I find a few that aren’t creeps), and that I will be honest with her about that if she wants or cares to know. I will always come home. I will always love her.

I’m not sure she’s convinced… but it’s the truth from me… I can’t afford to worry about the what-ifs like she is. I have to move ahead with my life and I want to have her there… it’s up to her if she wants to stay with me for the ride.

And that’s it… that’s the story. If you stuck with me for this long, thank you. It’s a lot to take in, I know… but everything is the truth and from my heart.

That’s all for now… until next time.