National Coming Out Day 2011

Run to the mountain tops and scream out loud, hey I am GAY! Ok, maybe that is a little over dramatic, and maybe not suitable for who you are. Either way, if you are ready to leave the proverbial closet or are already glittering up the world, one person and outfit at a time, make today a day of awareness, equality, and love. Equality for EVERYONE, after all we have one thing in common, we are HUMAN. Now turn up the circuit party dance music, lift your hands to the heavens, and dance to the beat of the music. Remember, the only rule that is important, is to be YOU! Oh, and be safe in everything you do.

Share your coming out story with me at Boymeetsboyblog.com! Here is mine...

Party Like It's 1999: My Coming Out Story >>

The Socialization of a Young Impressionable Gay Boy

This might not sound PC or even be in line with gender/queer theory today. Frankly, it doesn't matter. I was raised/socialized as a girl. Yeah, I said it. Now I don't mean I was born inter-sexed or my penis was chopped off in an accident while being monstrously circumcised (fyi, I'm not). Simply put, I was raised in what would be typified as women gender roles, from the 1950's, or just maybe within a Mexican cultural context.

Growing up, I was raised with the idea that I should fall in love, find a wife/husband (turned out to be the latter), have kids, and be happy. Be happy. Now there is a concept that is gender-fucked from the beginning in this story. My mom taught me that it is important to fall in love and find someone that would complete me. She wanted me to have the same type of relationship she and my father have...to this date. They have been married for almost 40 years. She taught me that through all the ups and downs, we have to make the best of it. We have to be strong and that everything can and will be worked out, in the name of love. Surprisingly, my mom never spent much time telling this to my older sister. It was always directed towards me. Maybe subconsciously I was being prepped for playing the girl part in the relationship. Unfortunately, there is no better way to describe it, and I don't mean it in a derogatory way towards women. Most of my role models in life are women. In a traditional Mexican cultural ideology, these would be deemed women's role in love, life, and family.

I remember most of my childhood clearly. I didn't fret over toys, especially cars, transformers, and video games. Most of my time was spent helping my mom. Momma's boy? Maybe. On weekends, I would wake up extra early so that I could start doing my chores. My chores were simple; I had to clean the house. That included dusting the tables and my mom's knick-knacks, vacuuming, and cleaning the bathrooms. I don't understand how my mom didn't realize I was different than most little boys. I thought it was normal to clean the house while listening to Mariah Carey's, Emotions, while pretending the Pledge can was my microphone. All in all I was in charge of doing mostly house chores, and my mom prized her home on the fact that her little boy kept it clean. Once again, most parents, especially in Mexican households, would force the men/boys to do yard work. Good thing I had a different family. A progressive one at that! I am not going to lie, my dad sometimes showed a hint of disturb in his eyes when he saw me dancing around cleaning. But he always let me be.

Families are microcosms where we learn the big rules and ideas of life, love, and family. Yes, that is a reoccurring theme for me. The way I was brought up to think of relationships greatly affected on what I seek in my present/future. In the early stages of my 9-year relationship I sought emotional security. Most people thought I was with my partner for financial stability and that he was my sugar daddy. That point is far from the truth. From my socialization through my family, I was seeking someone to nurture me and provide me with security.

Everything I had learned I was trying to put into practice in all my past relationships. I forgot who I was and what I wanted. Truth is, I never formulated those ideas for myself.

Now here I am, trying to tie-up loose ends in my dating life and relationships. I have learned a lot from my past and have grown to know that what I want is to be an equal in my relationship. Until then, I want to explore myself and who I am. My possibilities. I want to be able to provide for someone else...emotionally. That is why I say, have fun, enjoy life, live and learn! But always, always be SAFE!

Protect your penis...and protect your heart.

Party Like It's 1999: My Coming Out Story

It was just another weekend at my house. My stereo was going, playing the latest house music. I love(d) my deep house. There I was getting ready, dancing, throwing on jeans and a button-up short sleeve, making sure my hair was perfect. Splashing my self with Polo Sport, hey it was the 90's! I smelled good, looked good, I was ready to party it up at Rage Thursdays, Varsity. Yeah, I just dated myself! It was where are all the 18+ year olds went at the time...definitely not like it is now.

There I was waiting for my friends to come by and pick me up; my poor little red Chevy Cavalier couldn't even make it around the corner. That's when I noticed my dad was pacing back and forth. He finally came to a stop, opened the already cracked bathroom door, and asked, "Mijo, can I ask you something?" I said of course...hey the man can ask me whatever he wants, he pays the bills. I swear it rolled out in the best slow motion, "Are you gay?" Caught off guard, wondering, is this my coming out? Is this how I envisioned me telling my family that I like to be with guys both sexually and emotionally? Shouldn't there be more drama, a dream sequence of the not-so-right moment over cutting the turkey on Thanksgiving? Yes, this was my moment, as slow as my dad said it, I spit out a fast YES!

There it was. It was said. It was out there, I couldn't take it back. I didn't want to. It was now a REALITY to him. It was a big deal to me, and as fast as I answered, my dad said, "Ok, I just wanted to know." My dad screwed me over on my coming out. Ok, not really, my dad isn't phased by a lot. I am actually very thankful that my dad was the most understanding Mexican man I have encountered. I am blessed to have the family I have and the values they have instilled in all of us. As fucked up as some people think I might be on here...but dating and family values are different things. I digress...

I went out that night and had fun with my friends. I had told them what happened. They were surprised my dad didn't kill me or kick me out. I was happy too. This whole time I had thought my dad would be disappointed in me. His straight-A kid, who graduated with High Honors, turning out to be gay. We already had a distant relationship, as long as I did good in school it was fine. No real love was ever shown between us. Not a hug, not an I love you. Of course that has changed since.

After my dad, I began to think. Fuck, he is going to tell my mom! How will she take it? Will she hate me? Will she hate that I told my father first? Luckily, my dad did not tell my mom. He told me that was for me to do. This was much easier said than done. It's not right, my dad made it easy coming out!

Before I decided to tell my mom, I needed a support group. I came out to a few family members and my aunt. My aunt helped raise us, my sister and I, while my mom and dad worked when we were younger. We were all a tight knit family, even to this day. My aunt thought that my mom would take it well and that I shouldn't think twice about it. She also said, "Deño, (what she always calls me) I already knew you were. It's not much of a surprise." Everyone had me figured out before I did. I love it!

A few days had passed. My mom was doing the laundry, and there I was sitting and eating lunch she prepared me. I love moms, they make the best food! I was watching Ricki Lake. The topic was my gay son. Perfect! My mom was sitting there after doing laundry with me while I ate. We watched intensely as  people told their stories...silent pause...I turn around, look at her facial expression. In a mousy voice I say, "Mom...what would you do if I was gay?" As if there was a was. She paused and then proceeded to ask me what I was trying to say. I told her, in the most dramatic way of course, "Mom I am gay." She began to cry. Fuck, the very thing I never wanted to make my mom do...cry.

It was 2 weeks later and my mom finally came around to talking to me. She was hurt that I thought I couldn't tell her. She was hurt that my father knew before her. She was hurt that my aunt knew. Note to self: go to mom first, FOR EVERYTHING!

Since then, my family has been there for me 100% in everything I do. My dad continues to want to know that I am alright, and that some guy isn't fucking me over. My mom wants to make sure that I find someone who will fulfill me, love me, and put up with my antics. They want me to have kids with someone and create a family. Yes, people my parents are the best!

Now I just need to find someone they can call son-in-law. The search continues...