Coming out in my teenage years (super long story)

So I was just going to say my coming out story but I decided to go back to the start. Back to the very first moments when I started noticing I was attracted to guys, because it wasn't simple and a lot happened between now and then, plus I don't think there's anywhere else for me to say this story. So super long story incoming. I would honestly suggest grabbing popcorn if I were you, and if anyone has the patience to read this, thank you. There will be sex stuff but I'll keep it PG-13 (I think that's what it's called over there).

Before puberty I wasn't interested in girls or boys. Well, there was this one girl I had a crush on (and a few years later she told me that she had a crush on me too around that time) but this was before puberty, so nothing came of it and I didn't think anything of it, I was far more interested in playing chase and games with all the other kids in my area. Looking back I guess I was the alpha male of the group. I was the "leader" in a way.

So anyway puberty arrived, and unsurprisingly I became interested in sex. That's when I started noticing, when I was about 12 or 13, that I, for the briefest moment, found a guy attractive. Usually when I was watching porn. I would instantly ignore it, shake it off and convince myself that it never happened, but it began to worry me. I started noticing it, and then ignoring it (compared to pretending it never happened in the first place, which was slightly different as I never dwelt on it) but I remember thinking no, not this. I don't need another complication in my life, I want to be normal, I want things to be easy. Mostly though I just ignored it and never even dared to think twice about it.

It was around this time I met Vicky. She was a girl, almost a year older than me (I was 14 she was 15) and she had recently moved to my area (her dads job moved her around the place a lot). She came into our group and the first thing I noticed was that she was gorgeous. Shoulder length blonde hair and this posh sounding English accent. She came into our group and, almost accidently, we became closer. I still don't really understand why she gravitated towards me, our group was about 5 boys and her, maybe it's because I was the most confident. Whatever the reason, over the course of just over a year I began to realise I loved being around her. I loved hearing from her, being with her, seeing her. I would get butterflies in my stomach over nothing, and my heart would race around her. I realised I was falling in love with her and, even now after all these years, I still can't contradict that. I think to myself that it couldn't have been love, but I've never felt something like that, an attachment so powerful, since then or before. Even boring things were fun with her, I just loved everything about her, I never wanted that feeling of joy and excitement to end.

After about a year and a half, when my feelings had become stronger than ever, we both realised we felt the same for each other. I had never been happier in my life, and we began dating, to the jealousy of some of my mates. Most importantly, when I was with her I never thought of anyone, girl or guy. So much of my thoughts were about her that I didn't even have to ignore my attraction to guys, it just never happened.

So we were together for a year, spent pretty much every day together, and when we weren't we were texting each other. And eventually, on New Years eve/day when I was 16, we lost our virginity together. That's when I noticed the spark, the intense feeling I got when I was with her, didn't explode and become stronger like I thought it would. If anything I remember feeling like sex was overrated. Fun, but overrated. Once we passed that first hurdle it became a common thing in our relationship. She had enjoyed herself more than I had it seemed and, despite me being a 16 year old male, she was up for it more than I was. I hadn't given it much thought as to why though, I just enjoyed being with her and wanted to be with her my whole life, but I just generally didn't find sex that enjoyable. It didn't repulse me, it just didn't really do anything for me, and I found that I was doing it more because it made her happy. It was around this time of life that things, at home, started to go downhill for me. I'll gloss over this bit because it's massively depressing, but it boils down to my mum going somewhat crazy over things (constant lies to me, paranoia over things) and me, who was an above average student, suddenly having my grades drop dramatically due to depression. I was still popular, if not more popular after my grades dropped due to more effort being put into my social life, but I was massively depressed even though I managed to hide it from everyone, except Vicky of course, who I ended up hugging in tears a lot of nights as she comforted me. I can safely say that, if it wasn't for her being that one ray of light in my life back then, I wouldn't be hear writing this today.

So, after about a year and a half together she started talking about having kids. That sounds pretty crazy, a 16 and a 17 year old discussing having kids together, but we honestly felt that strongly for each other that it didn't seem crazy. We even talked about it casually, even bringing up baby names. I think the reason why I wanted kids was for that sense of unconditional love that there would be, I would have something to live for and I would have love in my life, something only Vicky was giving me at that time. So our relationship settled, we were still in love and spent almost every day together, but that overwhelming feeling of excitement had now turned into a feeling of comfort. But because of that those attractions I felt towards guys had started appearing again. But this time it was different, it had happened enough for me to finally admit to myself I wasn't entirely straight. I had tested the waters with my mates on gay stuff to realise that this wasn't a thing that straight guys went through, this wasn't a phase, I was a weird guy that was attracted to guys sometimes. But I thought to myself, so what? I have far bigger problems in my life to be upset about than this, and ultimately it made no difference, I was with Vicky. I was going to be having kids with this girl that I loved, it didn't matter who I was attracted to, I was going to be spending my life with her. Problem solved.

The thing was, despite us being incredibly close, despite us spending many days and nights together, being closer to her than anyone else in my entire life, telling her my hopes and fears, being comforted by her when it all became too much and I broke down, I never told her about these feelings for guys. I realised it was the one thing I could never share, I could never tell her about it, not only because had I not fully come to terms with it yet, but because it might destroy everything we had.

By the two year mark of our relationship slight bumps had started to appear. One day when we were together she brought up the fact that, a few times over these last few months, we had been alone together doing other stuff when we could've been having sex. She said that I almost didn't seem to want to have sex with her, and that she was afraid I was falling for someone else. This caught me by surprise, I knew of the times she was talking about but it just never crossed my mind back then do to it, I was just enjoying spending time with her. I assured her there was no one else, that she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and that I'll be more aware of those times in the future. But despite me making more of an effort, what she said made me realise that I was, almost subconsciously I guess, finding excuses not to have sex with her. It made me aware that, even though we could sometimes, I didn't want to. I distinctly remember one time, after she had told me that, we were lying in bed together and I sat up. I turned to look at her lying there naked and she smiled at me. I remember that I loved that, I loved this moment, but I loved this moment more than I enjoyed sleeping with her. And that scared me.

As those months went on, we were coming to our final year at high school, my home and school life was getting worse. I found myself consciously avoiding sex, but I also started to put unfair pressure on Vicky to stay with me, as I was scared to lose her simply because she was the only person in my life that showed me love. I had friends, but no one I could speak to about my problems in life. It was passive aggressive, but it was driven by fear, and I now deeply regret the pressure I must have put on her. We still loved each other, but we were growing apart, and to cap it all of she revealed that she was moving soon, her dads job was going to force them all away in a few months.

That time came, we spent a last night together but, even though I tried to ignore it, it was clear things weren't the same. She brought up the fact that it'll be hard now, with her living in England hundreds of miles away, and that we might not be able to be together. We didn't hate each other or grow distant, we just realised that we couldn't be in a relationship and we didn't feel as intensely strong for each other anymore. She said it would be best if we moved on and just stayed as friends instead. I couldn't really do anything but agree, even though it's not what I wanted. About 3 months after she left she found a new boy that fell in love with her. We haf spoken on the phone a few times and I made the incredible mistake of telling her that I still loved her, her boyfriend discovered this and told me plainly to get over her really, and me and Vicky never spoke after then. She's been with him for about 5 years by now I guess. They got married.

Back to me being 17 though and my home life had deteriorated. My mum had become super paranoid and irrational, but had always told me if I didn't have a job by the time I was 16 and I left school, she was throwing me out the house. My last year of school ended soon after losing contact with Vicky, I never had a job and didn't have the grades for uni, so true to her word she threw me out the house. In the space of a few months I'd lost everything, and had no future. But, like I said, I'm going to gloss over this part. I'll just say I didn't hurt myself but life got incredibly dark, moments from the end, but I moved in with my aunt and cousins for a month, started seeing a therapist who I broke down to but who helped me, and I got my own house. I'll leave it at that.

What does this have to do with me coming out? Well by that stage I knew I liked guys, but I realised I had bigger things to worry about than that. I didn't need another thing to worry about, so I just accepted it. Even though I was sure I was attracted to girls, I knew that I didn't enjoy sleeping with them. Even though I could tell when a girl was attractive, maybe that wasn't the same as being attracted to her. Maybe I was attracted to girls but it was fading away, being replaced by guys. Heck, even though I'm now out as gay, even I'm still not entirely sure of the answer.

So things got better, I eventually moved back in with my mum after a year when her crazy stopped and I got a job working with people I love. When I was 19 I went to stay with my cousin in Edinburgh, by this stage I had come to terms with the fact I was gay, but due to my masculine nature (not having camp traits or an interest in "girly" things) it was completely unknown to everyone. Even my jock cousin was unaware, and he wanted to make it his mission to get me laid when I came to visit him, seeing as though I hadn't slept with a girl in just over 2 years. He pointed out that he could get girls to sleep with me just by saying I'm his cousin, and he was right, I honestly had to awkwardly turn away a girl who appeared outside my room (I was staying on his campus) at 2 in the morning, wearing nothing but a bra and a skirt, holding a toy gun which she shot me with when I answered the door in my boxers. I angrily told him not to do that again though and thankfully he listened.

Over that next few months, I had a new group of friends of guys and girls, I grew closer to one girl that I knew as "my friends girlfriend" when she got a job where I worked. I enjoyed her company, but she was my only girl friend, and I quickly realised that people will think I'm trying to get in her pants. They'll tell her this behind my back, and she'll believe them and will avoid me, so I realised that if I wanted to stay her friend I would have to tell her the truth. I went to lunch with her one day, and in one of the scariest moments of my life, I told her I was gay. I think it was the first time I said it out loud. She was completely shocked, but happy that I told her first, said it was quite exciting to share this secret with me. I was so terrified by how she would react, but this made us closer, which unsurprisingly meant that everyone in our group point blank asked me when we were going to shag. Not when her boyfriend was around obviously, poor him, he was too passive to confront me, but fortunately her being in a relationship meant I could deflect those questions without arousing suspicion.

As those months went on I went to a festival with my group of friends. This random girl dragged me away towards her tent on the first night and in another moment of drunken awkwardness (after contemplating whether or not I'd be able to wing it) I had to admit I was gay. Honestly I think she thought I was making it up as an excuse not to sleep with her, but at least it got rid of her.

Eventually, a few months after I came out to my girl friend and talking with her, I decided I was going to come out. I just hated living a double life, hiding myself and pretending, but I loved how free I felt when it was just me and her. Many a time I was inches from doing it but would then back out at the last moment, until finally one night, after I drank a lot of alcohol to prepare myself, I came out in a room of my 4 closest friends (and another guy who I'm not that close to but who happened to be there). It was mind-numbingly terrifying, and apparently I was visibly shaking I was so afraid. They were all shocked, apparently none of them had any idea (I got quite a few "Reallys?"), but they all took it extremely well. In fact they didn't even seem to care much, it wasn't a big deal to them, they said they were just happy I told them. After them I didn't need to tell anyone else. News spread like wildfire. A few people just point blank asked me after then, but if anyone asked I just told them the truth. People were shocked, but everyone was extremely positive.

I met a guy on the net from Dublin, just friends nothing serious, and when I was 20 I went over to stay with him for a weekend. We had an amazing night in the first gay bar I'd ever been in (it was a gay and straight bar actually, both sets of couples) and we both went back to my hotel. That was the first time I slept with a guy. Seeing as though I was basically losing my virginity again I was incredibly nervous, but afterwards we just lay there and spoke for hours and I realised that this was what sex was supposed to feel like. I loved it, I wanted to do it again. Unlike with Vicky I felt a strange rush of excitment and fun that was largely missing for me when we had sex. I just turned 22 a month ago, since then I've slept with this other guy who I met one halloween night, and a straight (or so I thought) boy in my group who I had a crush on for months, though he's still closeted.

I honestly can't believe how much better life is now. I don't have to hide, or worry, or anything. I thought I would feel different, be a different person, but I'm not. I still hang out with my mates, and even though I do get more gay jokes my way, I just feel like me, except I don't have to worry about people finding out I'm gay. The best way I can describe it is I'm free. I don't have to pretend to like anything, and I don't have to worry about people wondering why, because everyone knows. I realised that I wasn't unhappy because I was gay, I realised I was unhappy because the world (or so I thought) wanted me to be unhappy, because I was gay. I even stay away from the mainstream gay culture because, apart from an interest in guys, I don't really share much in common with it. I'm not flamboyant or camp, I don't have an interest in "girly" things, I'm just a guy that happens to be gay. I'm happy with myself, I was never really that unhappy to begin with, I just hid it because I thought I had to. In the end it turns out that hiding it was pointless, there was no reason to except to make myself miserable, because I thought society wouldn't accept me.

I'm completely glad I came out. It was the best decision of my life.

So there's my incredibly long, rambling story. I went off on a tangent there I'm sure, I just haven't ever typed this stuff out, I brought up a whole bunch of old memories. I've been typing for hours now, I'm actually quite embarressed by how long this ended up being. If you managed to read all that, thank you, it felt good to type it all out, to get it all off my chest.

 

Thanks for reading.

I'm from much farther north than Dundee, up in the Highlands. I'm almost as north as you can get whilst still being on mainland Britain.

Born in an American Naval base in Spain though, then lived in California until I was about one. So, like you I guess, I have dual nationality.

 

Eh in summer when it's daylight for 19/20 hours it's nice, and if you like the sea I guess. In winter it's pitch black for the same amount of time, it feels like eternal darkness for 3 months, so it's not very fun then. The people are nice though, you'd think that towns which are far away from cities wouldn't be very accepting due to having less involvement from outside culture, but people are polite and friendly here.

I'd like to live somewhere like where you do though, away from the sea, it always seems so cool to not be near the ocean.

 

So, on a strange note, reminiscing for this story made me search through all my old stuff, as I remember I kept a sort of diary between the age of 17 and 18. I found it, and inside it I found a folded letter from Vicky that I must've kept.

Because of that, and this story, I went and found her on facebook (which wasn't that hard thanks to a few mutual friends) and we're going to have a catch up this monday when we're both free. I'm strangely quite nervous about it, not because I have any feelings for her, but because it'll be a weird conversation I'm sure.

 

Sorry I never responded earlier Strathclyder, I only just checked back on this thread right now. I hope everything goes well for you coming out, especially as you haven't told anyone yet. Hopefully you have someone to confide in about it.

And it's always good to see another Scot, especially one that's also online at half 7 in the morning lol.

 

Hey James I know how you're feeling, my depression was the part I glossed over in my story mainly because it makes me feel uncomfortable looking back at how low I got at that time of my life, especially as it gets better. Trust me, it fades.

If you want someone to talk to send me a message anytime you want. Honestly.

Thanks for reading it, I thought no one would given its length. I hope your coming out goes well for you.

 

Oh well it was quite recently when I got back in contact with her. It was positive, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't somewhat awkward.

We asked about how our life had went, she was still with her boyfriend who was now her husband, and I mentioned that I'd come out. She was confused and asked me if I was sure, and then asked me why I'd never told her, especially as we were quite close before we even started dating. Plus we told each other everything, there was nothing that we didn't know about each other, and here I was revealing that I'm gay.

Anyway I just told her the truth. I said I really was in love with her, I got butterflies around her and loved being with her. I'd never felt as strongly for someone in my life, she lit up my day, and all the things I said about having kids was true. The reason why I never told her when we were together was because I met her around the time I was beginning to notice I was attracted to guys, but I was denying it and when I was with her I never thought about anyone else. I didn't tell her because I hadn't accepted it myself, so I wasn't exactly lying to her because it wasn't the "truth" to me either, if that makes sense?

Anyway she was like "Oh". I'm sure she had loads of questions but she just said it was a total shock and she had no clue, and she was happy for me. We just sort of changed the subject after a brief awkward silence. We have spoken since without it being awkward (we even ask about each others love lives), so there's no hard feelings. We made each other happy when we were together but we've moved on, it doesn't bother me that she got married to the guy she dated after me and I'm sure it doesn't bother her that I came out. We've just moved on from each other.

 

Oh well it wasn't really cleanest of break ups, so it was definitely better that there was that period of time where we'd both moved on before I told her.

Though remember that part where I said I made the incredibly mistake of telling her I still loved her? I think that if I'd come to terms with being gay, even though we both hadn't completely moved on, I could have told her then (instead of saying that I loved her) and it would have been fine. And that was within a short few months of breaking up.

 

Oh well it doesn't really ruin the memories of the relationship because it happened after the relationship. She wasn't dating a closeted gay guy, she was dating a guy that loved her and wanted to make her happy.

Gay or not we did have sex and, even though my enthusiam for it dipped after a while, I know she enjoyed it and I enjoyed making her happy. It just didn't do as much for me as it did for her. It was an incredibly strong emotional connection I had with her and of course I thought she was gorgeous, but I enjoyed everything about her and spending time with her more than I enjoyed having sex with her. I wasn't put off by it really, I guess I just enjoyed the connection it created between us more than the actual act, and sometimes I was just content with doing other things together. So yeah I'm sure she feels the same about our memories (not being ruined I mean), we made each other happy, we had fun and were in love. All the things that happened afterwards doesn't change it, we just moved on.

Though to be fair I don't tell her about the jokes my friends made ("So when you broke up she married the first guy she met and you came out as gay? Glad I wasn't in your relationship"). But yeah, the stuff that happened afterwards doesn't change the stuff that happened during it, so the memories aren't ruined.