Growing up as a Vietnamese-American, there are certain cultural expectations and rules that have been imposed on me since birth. I had to excel academically, mold myself into someone that society and the Asian community would accept, and, most importantly, achieve financial success. Along with these expectations, I grew up following unspoken cultural rules. Some of these rules include having unquestioning obedience to my parents, leading a closeted life, and never openly talking about my problems.
These rules became inextricably linked to who I am. It was intertwined with my identity to the extent that when I realized in middle school that I also had feelings for girls, I was consumed with internalized hatred and fear. I was afraid of disappointing my parents and being ostracized by my entire community.
Where I'm from, the Vietnamese community is rather small and word travels fast. Everyone would know if I came out. I feared that they would immediately look down on my family and instinctively believe that my bisexuality is a result of an undisciplined upbringing. I didn't want to be selfish. I didn't want to come out knowing that my family would have to face negative consequences because of my actions. The crippling fear of tarnishing my family's reputation and honor kept me silent for years.
I gradually came to love myself bit by bit through the support of the few friends I came out to and finally garnered the courage to tell my parents the summer before my sophomore year of high school.
Coming out was not easy at all. My parents were uncomfortable with the discussion, mostly because of how rarely we ever discuss such heart-wrenching topics. After confessing, my parents said that they still loved me, but needed the time to adjust. I knew that it would take a while for them to accept and understand me, much like it took time for me to fully accept my sexual orientation.
I had completely forsaken the rule of never openly talking about my problems because I knew that transparent communication was the only way to help my parents truly understand me. I wanted them to know that tolerance is not the same as acceptance. Tolerance can hurt equally as much, if not more, than unacceptance.
Three years later, my parents have made a lot of progress in comprehending the whole situation. My father has taken steps to try to learn a bit more about the LGBT community and my mother has become more accepting. Reflecting on my situation now, I am genuinely and sincerely thankful that my parents had taken the time to listen to me and exhibit their love for me every day.
Looking back, I am glad that I came out the way I did. Yes, there were times where conversations with my parents became unbearable and poor word choices were made. Yes, I did lose friends and relationships. Yes, I am still frowned upon by some people in my community. But ultimately, my experience with coming out has made me appreciate those who love me for who I am and has made me prouder of my heritage and my identity.
