Out

            Coming out is better than hiding out. I cannot believe I just said that, given the fact that admitting to everyone that you are gay is one of the most difficult tasks ever. Nonetheless, it’s true. Secrecy does more harm than good. Trouble brews from secrets.

            Now I had known that I was gay for a while. I knew from the moment that I kissed my ex-friend. That was junior year. Then came senior year and the truth was still locked away.

            I live in a community where anything out of the ordinary is bad. Pure and simple: bad. In fact, I would be willing to bet that there are a substantial amount of gay people around. Many are just hiding, mostly because they are forced to. I do not blame them. I was one of them.

            Hiding was difficult though. I was a balloon just aching to pop. Honesty was my policy. And I was lying. Before long, those lies had overstayed their welcome.

            My fingernails tapped nervously against the phone that Friday night. No one was home, so I could be as much of a nervous wreck as I wanted to. The decision was this: tell someone. Not everyone, just a few friends. That would ease the pain enough to be a little more comfortable.

            I dialed a few friends’ numbers and stuttered my admission. The subsequent silence was deafening and seemed to last an eternity. Any moment, the dial tone of rejection could come. Thankfully, that never came. They were instead accepting and thankful that I had told them. They were also willing to keep it a secret from everyone else. It was a hard task, but as good friends go, they were up for it.

            Someone squealed.

            Of all times to get bad news, it was during my film class. I love film and am always sad when the class ends. And being interrupted was horrible.

            Our school sends out little passes when you are asked for by the attendance office. No one likes those slips. They usually mean trouble. One of those horrible slips interrupted my film class, right in the middle of a good movie.

            I bucked up, though, and trekked across the school to the office where the assistant principal was waiting for me. I was absolutely confused as to why I was there. I never skip class and I don’t harass people. Why was I in the office?

            Someone squealed.

            I was notified that someone had come to the office about a rumor involving me. This little gem of a story consisted of me not only coming out at school, but also attempting to involve myself with this person in a relationship.

            Huh? What was this junk? I stared blankly at the assistant principal. What an absurd rumor that was. Do some people have no shame?

            I inquired as to whom the person was and they were brought in for me to see.

            It was my best friend. Someone was trying to ruin our friendship because I was gay.

            Needless to say, I was upset. Not because my friend reported the rumor (for that I was grateful), but because he was targeted. No one ever messes with my friends, especially in such a diabolical way.

And, of course, my secret was out.

            Thankfully, the rumor did not bother my friend. He was merely concerned and wanted to protect the both of us. True friends do that for one another. But there was one thing left: face the school.

            Lunch that day was interesting. Just about every eye passed over me in the lunchroom. Whether it was curiosity, hate or confusion I will never know. I did not want to.

            I sat down next to my friend to eat. My head down, I chewed my food in absolute silence. I felt ashamed.

            A week passed, and along with it, so did the looks. It was astonishing. I was out, no big deal. I am gay, nothing much. All of my friends accepted it, and all of the others came to as well. I could not believe it.

            No longer were my lunches eaten hunched over. No longer were gazes of others avoided. The one who began the rumor was no longer a friend of mine. Real ones do not do such awful things. Free of such burdens, my back straightened and I walked tall and proud.

            I had freedom at last.

            My hindsight is 20/20, so I should have just came out when I found out. Look at the outcome! But as many before me knew, it is not that easy. As it usually goes, though, with all woes, great things follow. In my case, understanding and acceptance did. And all I had to do was say something.

            Trust me. Just come out. It works.