Yesterday I finally came out to my parents.

It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life.

Yeah, I know it’s pretty obvious. Most people can tell just by looking at me. But despite how obviously gay I am, it didn’t make it any easier to tell them.

Here’s my story from childhood (compressed version).

I was a shy little kid. I still am. Growing up, I did everything with my twin brother. It was easy to tag along and play with his friends instead of having to make my own. And why would I want to play with them, anyways? They played tetherball, hopscotch, and jumped rope all while giggling about the boys. Uhm, no thanks. I’d rather play with the boys. (Note: this ended up being really funny because all the girls got jealous of my closeness with the boys.)

Throughout school I was always into sports, and I was pretty damned good at them, too. During elementary, I played Little League baseball with my brother. Over the years I got used to hearing people excitingly scream, “The girl’s at bat!” as if it was some amazing feat that a girl could actually keep up with everyone else.

In the early 90′s, baggy clothes were the trendy thing amongst all kids, boys and girls. It was never weird to see girls wear men’s clothes. Shit, my sister and I used to raid my dad’s closet in the mornings before school. The difference between my sister and I is that I never grew out of it (wearing men’s clothing).

High school came around and I still never had a boyfriend. “It’s because I’m shy,” I told myself. Reality was that I didn’t give a fuck that I never had a boyfriend and I was never attracted to them. But I couldn’t admit that to myself.

After high school, I still struggled with my own identity. A girl at work came out to me and she was the first gay person I ever actually knew. In hindsight, I know she came out to me because she knew I was gay, too. Funny that everyone around me knew this, except me.

And that’s when things started to change for me. I started to party with my friend from work and all her friends. I got exposed to the “lifestyle”. But even then, I couldn’t admit to myself that I was gay.

Fast forward a few years. I’m living in Pomona where I meet my best friend. He and I party it up! We got shitfaced at the local gay bar at LEAST once a week. Good times. After a few months of that, I finally came to terms with my sexuality. But I still never told anybody.

Over the next couple years (at this time I was living in Colton – - I moved around a lot), I came out to my sister, got myself a girlfriend, and came out to my brother. And for some reason, I thought I could hide it from my parents.

Three years ago, I moved to Long Beach. It was the best move I’ve ever made. I met so may people that will be lifetime friends. For the first time in my life, I felt like I could be myself. People around here don’t care if you’re gay because gays are everywhere around here.

But I was living this sort of “dual life”. I was openly gay everywhere except for my parents. I’m pretty sure my nephews even have a good idea (they say how at first they thought some of my friends were boys, and they always want to buy me rainbow anything).

Last Wednesday night I had a moment of clarity (**ahem** panic attack) and realized that my parents most likely knew what I was hiding from them. Why didn’t I ever tell them? I’m not really sure. I was scared.

Scared of what? I don’t know. I knew that they wouldn’t disown me. I know that my parents would still love me. But I didn’t know if it would hurt them. It ate me up inside imagining my parents crying. Even worse, knowing that I’m the cause.

But it had to be done. Either way, good or bad, I had to tell them. I needed them to hear it from me.

I made the trip to Riverside yesterday and told each of my parents, one by one. Overall, it was good. They knew, which I figured. I think I was the only pansy crying about it. My mom started spouting off about relationship advice, which is weird because we’ve never discussed the topic. But I take that as a good sign. My dad … I think he wanted the conversation to be over only because he was dying to have me listen to the latest demo his band had put together.

And that was it. It was pretty quick and painless. The anticipation of it all was the worst thing.

The next few years should be interesting with my family, to say the least. They’re not used to me bringing home someone I’m dating . . . let alone a girl someone. But we have time. I don’t currently have a girlfriend. Any applicants?