Under Pressure: What it's like coming out after 30 years
So this topic may seem a little trite to the normal person, but I’m not normal. Well, I am in a way, but I’m not in a way too. I spent the better part of my life trying to escape normal and I did pretty good at it. I never felt normal emotions. I drowned away normal fears. I sex’ed away normal desires and interests. Does that make sense? If not, let me be more precise. I used drugs and alcohol to make me feel anything other than normal and I used sex to take away anything that felt gay. I pity not the man who these skills he had not, because now that I’m 33 years old, I’m just beginning to feel the pressures that most teenagers learned to cope with.
The normal trajectory of development places identity and likes and dislikes fairly early in the game so that later in the game these things don’t take so much effort. But what happens when these things aren’t resolved. What happens in the case of the boy who never really listened or followed his own likes or dislikes but did what he thought other people would like him most for. What about the boy who hid who he was and never ran after what he desired or dreamed? What does this boy do when 33 years down the road he finally begins to recognize his own tastes, desires, dreams and personality?
When you’re a teenager you have the time and the space to explore all of this fun, mushy, and frustrating adolescent stuff. But, when you’re 33, life has kind of built up other things that limit the ability to frolick in this freedom. The room for error is minimal. The consequences of saying or doing the wrong thing is high. The time to sort out the frustrating signals from the world is limited. The game seems to have a time clock on fast forward and the pressure to preform and claim status and victory is by all means overwhelming.
So here I am. Father of two amazing sons and ex-husband of two amazing women. I have spent the last 3 years blogging and laying out and accepting all the darkest, dirty secrets which built on each other making it clear that the final step was to come out of the closet. I’m a committed triathlete, blogger, soon to be published author, speaker and sober influencer and now I’m gay. The pressure on my kettle is whimpering as water molecules are colliding like an annoying box of tic tacs in your pocket on a run. It’s ready to boil to boil over and I’m ready for it too. But my readiness does not preclude the pressure from being noteworthy. Pressure like this, needs to be examined and how fun it is to look into this stuff, how revealing it can be.
There are lots of pressures, as mentioned, but the one I want to talk about today is the pressure behind the gay because I believe somewhere in here lies a piece of a puzzle we are all looking for to some degree.
Coming out is a big commitment. It reminds me of joining the varsity football team and being required to wear those horribly unfashionable letter jackets every Friday. I hated that shit. I was a freshman when I got asked to play varsity and at first the answer was simple, yes. But then I learned if I was on the roster I also had to wear the jackets. I loathed the jackets. I felt like I was walking around in a crispy yet damp leather bag that was warm and restricting in an already hot Atlanta musty school. It was gross, but I made the commitment anyway.
Here’s how that compares to coming out. So I feared for the longest time that I would be found out because of the little things I did that were gay(ish). For instance, I liked Minnie Mouse more than micky. The first friend I ever invited to my house from school was a girl and I asked that girl to wear her biggest golden dress like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, my favorite Disney movie. I liked to go to the mall more than I liked to go play paintball, ride dirt bikes or go mudding in anxiety provoking vehicles. I liked going to the spa more than I enjoyed going to an arcade and I’d rather kiss or cuddle than punch and wrestle. But, I played it cool and didn’t do the things I liked because I didn’t want to come off as gay. Now, however, I’m openly gay.
At first, you would probably think, YIPPEE he gets to do all the things he wanted to without the shame and I know, I initially thought that too. But, after the initial thrill of being on the varsity football team some realities come to light, such as wearing that damn jacket every Friday.
I’m so happy to be on the right team now. It is my greatest pleasure to be a part of the gay community. I cannot emphasis the amazing brother and sisterhood that I’ve experienced over the past few months. Open arms, eager ears, caring eyes, EVERYWHERE. It’s like, I don’t know, walking into a dream or something, my words really fall short at how amazing the people are whom I’ve met and become friends with. However, now I have to wear that damn jacket every Friday but since I love playing ball, I do it gladly.
I will tell you though, that sometimes I want to call in sick so I don’t have to wear the jacket. It sometimes just doesn’t feel natural, yet. It’s not as broken in as some of the upperclassmen who wear it with such ease. Sometimes it seems like a burden to me, but like something I have to do because I committed to it and I don’t know about you but there really is nothing worse than forcing yourself to listen to Brittney Spears and Teenie pop music when you’re not in the mood. It’s even harder to wear short little booty shorts when you don’t feel like you’re sexy enough in the moment. The pressure is real and I know we all feel it at one time or the other.
In a sense, I’m glad I’m going through it now because now I can write stuff like this and tell you all about it while thinking that somewhere out there it may help someone. So here it is, here is my reflection and what I have found that works when it’s just too much to be that person who you are supposed to be: Cry.
I cry and it works. After I cry, I dry my eyes and I laugh. Nearly every single time, I laugh. I know, it’s weird. Sometimes, like yesterday I may not get to the point of crying, but the pressure is just aa palpable, and I feel like I’m going to explode. So, I grabbed a dear friend and told him that I wanted to curl up into his big strong arms and cry while looking at all of the Disney decorations that he keeps in his house. What came next? He and I laughed. Well, I think he laughed. I had just texted him, so there’s really no telling, but if I know him right, he laughed. Pressure, released.
That’s right. I used to drink and use drugs over this pressure. One because I was hiding my truth, but two because I just didn’t like feeling normal. Today, I realize drinking is not an option for me because drinking and drugs literally always lead to handcuffs or suicide attempts and it’s just pathetic. So now, I feel those normal emotions and normal things that I should have been feeling as a teenager and I deal with them like a normal person would, because crying is totally normal and using laughter to release pressure is totally normal too. The best thing about it is that both crying, and laughter, also bring us together in such a powerful way. It’s also good cause nothing beats a chic flic or some quality pop jams after a good cry and laugh session.
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