Late Bloomer

My story isn't all that groundbreaking, I'm afraid, but after reading so many of the testimonials on here, I thought I might like to add to the list in order to hopefully help someone else's confusion and struggle find a voice.

I am 36 and have lived in rural communities for most (read all but two years) of my life. I am a Catholic, I am a Sagittarius, I am a musician, I am a hospitality professional with over 15 years experience, I am a member of the military, I am a son, I am an uncle to two beautiful young women, I am a brother, I am an artist, I am a friend, I am a consultant. . .

. . . and I am gay.

Everybody in my life knows about the entire list above, and I am very proud to say that I have accomplished a lot along each of those paths. I tell people very openly about any one of my characteristics and accomplishments listed above - save the last one. It is the last path that I have refused to acknowledge, and there are some deeply personal and professional reasons for that, but over the past year, that has been changing.

I was your typical kid, though I always steered toward artistic/scientific ventures when able. I still played t-ball, swam at the pool, enjoyed running, playing kickball, playing with He-Men and GI Joes, and experiencing nature by playing with bugs, but my alone time was where I found my muse, and I had a vivid imagination that I used for music, drawing, and performance. I fostered that creativity all throughout high school, and, though I played basketball and golf, my greater accolades came in music, theater, and scholarship.

Already a stereotype in my interests, I shied away from being "too gay". I knew what I was - my first male crush happened in my sophomore year - but it was the most closely guarded of my attributes, and the world as I knew it hinged on that fact never coming to light. I knew then that I had homosexual tendencies, but this was during a time when "faggots" were beaten, publically humiliated, and branded as AIDS-carrying sex zombies. I was called a queer several hundreds of times before graduation, and, though the guys in my class used to make lewd homosexual gestures (which in my mind seemed to validate that the concept of being gay wasn't actually all that disturbing to them), the room generally went quiet and awkward when the word "homosexual" was brandished about during discussions of human rights, social change, and current events.

I joined a couple of sports teams at my best friends' urging, and that proved enough to camouflage me until prom hit. It was during my sophomore year that a young lady took a liking to me and, though a lifelong friendship would develop out of it, she was my "beard" of choice. I met her family, spent some holidays with them, and took her to prom for two years. We ended up living together after college for a couple of years, too, so the illusion was palpable.

College was a blur of learning to drink in pursuit of reckless abandon. I had my last girlfriend during my sophomore year - I haven't dated since. Almost all of my nearest and dearest friends came from this period of my life as it marked a huge metamorphosis in my life - I came out of my shell as a person and pushed my social calendar to its limits (at the expense of school, of course). I left college at 22 and never looked back until recently.

The ensuing years through my twenties and early thirties were a whirlwind of leaving college, working in restaurants, travelling the world, and networking like crazy. Having no relationships gave me flexibility to move about, and staying busy was always the best excuse for not having a girlfriend/wife. I was told many times to settle down and start a family before people got "the wrong idea", and there were times where I thought I might just do that. Alas, the stars were misaligned in those respects, and I just ended up being overly busy and, more to the point, romantically lonely.

Fast forward to today:

As with many of the people I have known in my time, big changes are happening. I first told a close friend I might be bisexual back in my freshman year of college, though nothing more was ever spoken about that conversation until years later. All said, I have told no more than seven people about my homosexuality. My trepidation comes from a few places, as I'm certain many of you can identify with:

1. Shame: I desperately wanted to make my family proud of me in every facet possible, and at this point, they are. I have paved some wide roads and have some great stories to tell, but the fact that I am not married yet is a point of contention to many of them, most pointedly my grandmothers. At the end of the day, I know they all have a strong sense that I am gay, though nobody has asked in recent years. Most of them are satisfied to just understand that I am a busy guy, but I hesitate to even bring up the subject when I can't predict the outcome, and, though I am not ashamed of myself, I do not want them to be ashamed of me, and so I keep silent.

2. Professional Standing: I have made a bit of a name for myself in the small pond that I live in. Many of those people know me through the lens of a professional, and I have never been one to blur that line between professional and personal relationships. This, however, is a bit of a hot button that makes a blurry mess of the two relationship dynamics, and I am not certain that pulling that trigger would make much sense at this stage in the game.

3. Gay is a Label: I have a name. I have talents. I have many things going for me, and for whatever reason, being "gay" trumps all of those and puts itself as a prefix to everything I've worked for to overcome being that stereotype. I remember watching others come out of the closet, and many of them struggled initially with others seeing them as "my gay friend [insertnamehere]".

Sex is a great thing, but it has no business invading how others view me. I fear that coming out to the world would have people inaccurately dropping the gay tag before everything I have done/will do, and that prospect frustrates me.

4. I'm Too Old: At this point in life, I find myself wondering if I've thrown the towel in for TOO long on relationships. For all that I have gained not being tied down, I fear that I am an expert at avoiding relationships, and I wonder at the hurdles I will face in rebuilding the ability to let another person in.

This past summer I saw a lot of personal and professional growth, not the least of which was my first sexual encounter with another man. There was something very natural about it that made sense out of the confusion and frustration I had subjected myself to over the past years, and I'm glad it happened. This skin I wear fits just a little bit better now, and, though I have a very long road ahead of me, I know there are a few kindred spirits out there that know my "secret identity", and they will no doubt be very supportive when the news gets out.

For now, I am staying content in knowing that I will break through that glass ceiling someday soon. I have plenty of proving myself to do before I cut that last chain, but there is beauty in the journey, and the friends that know couldn't be more excited for me and what the future holds.

I hope some of this rings true for whoever is reading this. I found validation in the stories I read, and if anything in this last few paragraphs of rambling strikes a chord with you, please know that it gets better. Our days are too shortly numbered to let this consume the better part of our lives, so please reconsider making the same mistakes I made and say it out loud to yourself in the mirror:

"I'm Gay."

There - you just told someone who needed to know really desperately.

Now say it again, only tell that voice inside that is making you choke on the words to step back and let you speak your mind.

"I'm Gay."

Now make a list of everything that you are that isn't gay and remember to focus on THAT in becoming proud of yourself and in how you define yourself. Being gay is but a small thread in the tapestry of who you are, after all, and once you can integrate that thought process, it will be easier for you to tell that first, second, tenth, twentieth - whatever - person that is important to you.

Good night, and joy be to you all