Metamorphosis

Growing Up Gay and Finding My Pride

Identity development is a complex, multidimensional process in which a person attains an understanding of who they are in relation to cultural demands and social norms. Different dimensions of identity development influence the process in varying degrees depending on a multitude of factors. Sexuality is one dimension of identity development, and its influence on the process depends in part on whether the individual is homosexual or heterosexual (Morgan, 2013). Growing up gay is a very different experience than growing up straight. We live in a heteronormative society, and from the time we are born, we receive constant messages holding heterosexuality as the norm (Little, 2013). These messages come from people, television, movies, advertisements, literature, religion, laws, and many other sources. Everywhere we look, everyone and everything tell us we should be attracted to the opposite sex. One consequence of heteronormativity is that gay people are often viewed as confused, abnormal, or inferior, and even worse, it sometimes causes gay people to harbor these views about themselves, particularily when they are children and have not accepted their homosexuality (Bailey et al, 2016). Public support for gay rights, openly gay public figures, and gay characters on television and other pop culture media platforms, among other things, have made our society less heteronormative, which has no doubt helped to lessen the negative feelings young gay people experience. Even so, growing up gay begins with the feeling that something is not right within you, that the attraction to other boys that seems natural is not normal, and therefore, you are not normal.

I Was Gay Before I Knew What Gay Was

I don't remember how old I was when I realized I was gay, but I do know I was gay before I knew what gay was. I have seven older brothers, and when we were growing up, they talked about sex a lot...well not so much a lot as all the time. Even when I was so young I didn't know what sex was, my older brothers talked about what they wanted to do with girls. At a very early age, they told me I would one day start to like girls the same way they did, and when that happened, I would want to do the same things they wanted to do with them. I'm not sure how old I was when I realized I did not, and would not, like girls in the same way my brothers did, but I always knew I would never want to do any of those things with them. By the time I started high school, most of my brothers had gotten girlfriends or wives and moved out of our house, taking all their sex talk with them and leaving me to my own devices to figure out what I wanted to do with girls.

---

Becoming Gay

The struggle many gay men experience when learning to accept their sexual orientation can be a long and complicated journey, but it is not until a gay man accepts his homosexuality as normal that he can begin to integrate his sexuality into his life and view it in a positive way. Coming out of the closet is a process experienced by gay men as they become aware of their gay sexual orientation, accept it, and tell the people who are important to them (Seidman, 2002). This is a necessary rite of passage for all gay men that enables them to transform gay shame into gay pride. For young gay boys, the realization that they are attracted to other boys creates a conflict between their sexual identity and societal norms, and that conflict can spark an avalanche of unfamiliar and often overwhelming emotions, including shame, isolation, and fear (Schmitz, 2015). Some gay boys experience this at an early age and are unable to fully understand what it means. For a young gay boy dealing with the conflict between what he instinctively knows is natural (his sexuality) and what he's been taught is right (societal norms), the world can seem like a cold and lonely place. As he learns to accept his sexuality, he meets other gay people and connects with the culture of the gay community, and that connection grows stronger as he finds his place in the community. Feeling connected to a group of people with whom there is a common bond is extremely important to the development of an individual's self-worth. A sense of belonging makes a person feel a stronger sense of purpose and security, and it greatly impacts his happiness and satisfaction with life (O'Hare, 2018). The connection a gay man has with the gay community inspires a sense of pride in him. Thus, it is through the process of coming out and connecting with the gay community that gay men transform feelings of shame into a sense of pride.

Coming Out

When I came out in 1989, the modern-day gay rights movement was still rather new. It was just beginning to gain the strength it has today. Positive gay role models on TV or in movies were unheard of, and the subject of homosexuality was only ever discussed in negative ways. Many people believed gay people were dirty child molesters, drag queens were confused perverted transvestites, and AIDS was God's vengence on gay people. At that time, many gay men were disowned by their family, demeaned by their friends, and fired from their jobs after coming out. Often, the possible number of negative consequences outnumbered the possible number of positive benefits of coming out, and many gay men decided not to take the risk. It was the middle of the AIDS crisis, and many gay men found it difficult to find pride in a community that was quickly dying off. Even in the 1990's, I had several friends who had not come out to their families, choosing instead to lead double lives in which they were gay with friends but straight with family. It has become much easier for gay men to come out of the closet today, and it's happening at much younger ages than ever before. Many of the negative perceptions associated with gay people when I came out have faded away. Increased social acceptance of homosexuality, driven largely by the acceptance of gays in the military, the existence of positive gay role models throughout pop culture, the legalization of gay marriage, and other prominent social issues has firmly planted the subject of homosexuality into the public discourse, making it much easier for gay men to come out of the closet today.

Ain't No Closet Big Enough

I knew when I was very young that I was different from my brothers. I just didn't know how I was different. As I grew older, that difference became more and more obvious until it simply couldn't be denied. Like any other gay boy figuring out the direction his sexuality will take him, I focused too much on the thing that made me different. I thought my sexual orientation made me stick out like a sore thumb to my friends and family...and it did. What I didn't realize until I came out of the closet is that it didn't matter to any of them, and the only person who viewed me as different from them was me.

The first person I came out to was my best friend, who I'd known since elementary school.
....."Finally! What took you so long?"
She'd figured it out in middle school and had been waiting for me to tell her ever since.

The second person I came out to was my mom. I was nineteen years old when I told her. I knew it wouldn't be an issue, but I was still really nervous about it. I made many attempts to tell her but always chickened out at the last minute. Several months went by, and I still hadn't told her. It got so bad that my best friend threatened to out me if I couldn't find the courage to do it myself. I finally blurted it out one night in the middle of a story she was telling me about a scene one of my brothers had caused at the grocery store. There was no reaction from her. She continued the story about my brother. I wasn't even sure she'd heard me.
....."Mom, I just told you I'm gay."
....."I heard you."
....."Well, aren't you going to say something?"
.....She thought for a moment then said, "I have twelve straight children, I think that's enough. Don't you?"
Before I came out to my mom, she frequently tried to fix me up with the daughter of this friend or that friend. It was almost like she thought I couldn't get a girl to go out on a date with me on my own. I always refused to meet these girls, and she stopped telling me about them after I came out to her. But once, several months later, she told me she had a friend with a gay son.
....."He's a little older than you."
....."How much older?"
....."Thirty-nine."
....."Mom, he's a pervert!"
....."Why do you say that?"
....."Anyone that old who wants to meet someone my age is a pervert."
I guess she only had one friend with a gay son because she never suggested another one.

Coming out to my mom made it easier for me to come out to the rest of my family, mainly because she did it for me. Before I had a chance to have the conversation with my brothers and sisters, she had already told them. It is much easier to tell someone you're gay if they already know you're gay. Instead of it being a surprise to them, it's just an acknowledgement of what they already know. Nobody close to me had an issue with me being gay. I feel very fortunate for that because it made coming out pretty easy for me. It also helped to set the tone for how I've approached the subject with people ever since. Basically, I assume everyone knows I'm gay, and it's up to them to be ok with it. This approach has never failed me.

---

For me, coming out of the closet will always be associated with coming of age, becoming an adult and taking responsibility for myself, because I came out when I was nineteen years old, just a few months after I moved into my first apartment. That was what we did in my family. All my older brothers and sisters moved out on their own when they were about the same age. For them, I think it was the overcrowding in a household of thirteen children that made them move out at such a young age. With fifteen people living in a four bedroom house with only one bathroom, everyone shared a bedroom with several siblings, there was no chance of ever getting a moment of peace, and it was impossible to use the bathroom without someone banging on the door telling you to hurry up. But the overcrowding problem fixed itself over time. Throughout my childhood, our house emptied out, one sibling at a time, as each of my older brothers and sisters moved out on their own. By the time I started high school, overcrowding was no longer a problem. With only three children still at home, it was a much different experience than my older brothers and sisters had. I had my own bedroom, got all the moments of peace I wanted, and could often take my time in the bathroom. It wasn't overcrowding that made me move out when I was nineteen. It was just what our family did, so that's what I did.

Finding My Inner Gay

I don't know what I expected to happen after I came out of the closet, but I thought it would be something spectacular to reward me for taking this monumental step. After I came out to everyone who was close to me, nothing happened. My life did not change. There was no reward. At the time, I still lived about thirty miles from the small town where I'd grown up, and there weren't a lot of gay people who lived nearby. Some of my coworkers were gay, but I didn't really have any gay friends. It wasn't until two years later that my life began to change. Shortly after my twenty-first birthday, a gay coworker suggested that we go to a gay bar in D.C. I was initially confused by the suggestion. It had never occurred to me that there were any gay bars in D.C. I had assumed only cities like New York and San Francisco had gay bars. I accepted my coworker's invite, and that weekend, a few of my gay coworkers picked me up so we could drive into D.C. for the sole purpose of taking me to my first gay bar. That bar was Badlands, a gay bar in the Dupont Circle neighborhood, and one of the most popular gay bars in D.C. at the time. Although it is no longer in business, Badlands will always hold a very special place in my heart. It was my first gay bar, and years later, it was my last gay bar before leaving D.C. for good. I remember that first night like it was yesterday. Walking up to the door of the bar, I was so nervous and excited that my knees were weak and I could barely walk. My hands were shaking so much I dropped my ID three times before handing it to the guy at the door. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw inside the bar that night, sights and scenes that changed me forever. It was the first time I saw two guys making out. Sure, I'd had gay sex, but I had never seen gay men kissing in public. It was both shocking and exhilarating to me. I looked away, embarrassed that I had intruded on what seemed like a private moment between them, and as I looked around the bar, I noticed everyone seemed relaxed and comfortable, just like any other bar except this one was filled with gay men. Everywhere I looked, men were being homosexual, out in the open as if there was nothing wrong with it...because there was nothing wrong with it. When my coworkers dropped me off at home later that night, my entire worldview had changed.

Not surprisingly, my hometown, where I always felt I had to hide my homosexuality, did not adaquately prepare me for life as a gay man, so I found my gay side in the gay bars of Washington D.C. After that first night at Badlands, there were other nights at Badlands...and J.R.'s and eventually every other gay bar. I met other gay men my age and learned what it meant to be gay. I started driving into D.C. on a regular basis, and I formed a circle of gay male friends who also went to gay bars on a regular basis. Bonding over boy chasing, bar hopping, and Rehobeth Beach, we were a tight-knit little group, and we are still close friends today, almost thirty years later. I look back on those years of my early 20s with great fondness. They were, in fact, the best years of my life. But, as it turned out, the D.C. gay social scene was not all love and roses.

Three Questions

As I became a fixture in the gay bars of D.C., I began to realize that many of the gay men in those bars weren't so enjoyable. As my gay circle of friends formed around me, there was one thing we bonded over more than anything else, our mutual dislike of the D.C. gay bars and the queens who frequented them. To me, it always seemed like everyone knew a secret but nobody told me what it was, like I was always missing some key information that everybody else had, leaving me one step behind. As it turned out, I was different in at least two significant ways. First, I lived in the suburbs. All urbanites look down on suburbanites. I didn't know this at the time because I had never lived in the city, and the urbanite mentality had not yet entered my worldview. Second, I did not work for the federal government. So many people work for the federal government in D.C. that it was often assumed when you met someone. The gay bars of D.C. were often used for networking. Gay men went out with friends but could still meet other gay men within the federal government who might have the right connections to enhance their career. Because of this, there were three questions you were almost always asked when you first met someone in D.C.:

1. Who do you work for? It didn't seem to matter what you did, just who you did it for. Again, it was all about making connections. The specific names weren't important either. It was all about the federal agency and the person's position within the agency.

2. Where do you live? This question really asked how much money you made, but that would have been too rude, so this socially acceptable alternative was asked instead. Those who lived in bad neighborhoods or the suburbs often experienced a sudden a lack of interest after answering this question.

3. What kind of car do you drive? This was just another way of asking how much money you made. Most guys lied when they answered this question. Owning a car in D.C. was usually more frustrating than anything else. There were multiple parking restrictions on every street in D.C. No parking between 2:00pm and 6:00pm, no parking on Thursdays between 6:00am and 8:00am, etc, etc. Everytime you parked your car, you had to walk the entire block to read all the parking signs. It was nearly impossible to avoid getting very costly parking tickets if you lived in the city and owned a car. But that didn't stop anyone from asking this ridiculous question.

I spent four years trying to fit myself into a social scene I didn't even like. My biggest complaint about living there was the total lack of loyalty from everyone I met, which is ironic since I met all my closest friends there. Everyone seemed to have their own personal agenda, and if you didn't fit with that agenda, there was no need for them to speak to you...about you, maybe, but not to you.

Four years after visiting Badlands for the first time, I decided I needed a change.

Works Cited

Bailey, J. M., Vasey, P. L., Diamond, L. M., Breedlove, S. M., Vilian, E. and Epprecht, M. (2016). Sexual Orientation, Controversy, and Science. Journal of Psychological Science in the Public Interest, 17(2), 45-101. doi:10.1177/1529100616637616

Brochure (2008). Answers to your questions: For a better understanding of sexual orientation and homosexuality. Washington D.C.: American Psychological Association. Retrieved from http://www.apa.org/topics/sorientation.pdf

Little, William. (2013). Introduction to Sociology (2nd ed.) Rice University Press.

Morgan, Elizabeth M. (2013). Contemporary Issues in Sexual Orientation and Identity Development in Emerging Adulthood. Journal of Emerging Adult Studies, 1(1), 52-66

---