Last Tuesday was National Coming Out Day. This, along with my birthday coming up next month, was cause for reflection. I watch these girls at the school where I teach and I am amazed as they hold hands with their girlfriends and walk the halls proudly. When I was their age, I went to dances with boys because I was scared to death someone might suspect I was gay. And looking back of course, as I slowly began coming out to my closest friends in my twenties, everyone knew already. It wasn't a newsflash, more like an outdated press release that got lost at the bottom of a pile of paperwork. Everyone seemed to know it was there, but really weren't talking about it. The elephant in the room, I guess.

As I got older, I continued to hide. It was killing me though and I hated myself. I was afraid of what my family would say; my brother having found the Lord around his ninth grade year, my family serious conservatives and of course growing up in northern Idaho. I ignored my feelings. And I was depressed. Very depressed.

My grandmothers were always a huge part of my life. My grandfathers had both passed away when I was in junior high school. I was so worried about what they would say, I considered suicide as an alternative. I didn't want to disappoint them. I didn't want to hurt them or embarrass them. I thought it would be easier for me to just disappear, than come out as gay. I went to therapy. And this helped me realize there was nothing wrong with me. But living in Idaho, it wasn't exactly easy. "Faggot," was a term thrown around my high school as a the worst type of insult and although I cringed, I stayed silent. I played sports though and fit all the other classic stereotypes. Even in college, the time of experimentation for most kids, I couldn't bare the thought of telling anyone my secret. I remained silent and in the closet, terribly depressed on the inside, and the life of the party on the outside. This is the reason I relate to Robin Williams.

In my late twenties I moved with my then girlfriend to California. Of course in Idaho we were just roommates. But looking back everyone must have known. And that's fine. I thank everyone for letting me live in my own reality. In therapy I learned that as adults we get to choose our family. And I took a leap of faith. I had been slowly coming out to friends, those I completely trusted and they all said they already knew and thought it was comical I made such a big deal out of it. I think people who don't have to worry about such things often take it for granted. I had been living this way since I was about twelve. It was time. I also felt as a teacher, I needed to step up and be a role model for my kids. If I was living a lie and keeping my secret, what example was I setting for them?

I wrote a letter to my family. I can't even remember what I said in it. It was about two pages. It was met with mixed reviews. My Dad's Mom wrote back and said she cried for a week. She said this wasn't the Lord's plan for me. (I remember thinking, "I wish I knew what the plan was", I'd happily follow it.) My Mom's Mom wrote back and said essentially that she didn't give a crap about that, as long as I was happy, she was happy. My Dad's wife called me and said that he was proud of me and didn't care either. He had a hard time hearing on the phone (this was pre-hearing aid). I didn't hear from my Mom. And that was OK. I was learning to put into practice what my therapist said about adults choosing their family members. It's one of the benefits of being an adult. Sometimes I think it's the only one.

Now, it's been a lot of years later. Too many to reveal. My grandma (Mom's mom) always told me I needed to get thicker skin. She might have been right. There are so many things that have improved since I was in high school and the time when I came out. I always seem to choose partners that are not out and I have finally come to terms with the fact that this is about them, not me. I'm comfortable with me, finally. It's been a long road and I am happy. I think of my nieces who emailed me a few years ago and said they didn't care if I was gay. I have lost some people along my journey, but the people I have gained make up for them. I always try and make my grandmothers proud. And I have a family that takes care of me now no matter what. That's a good, safe feeling.

Being gay is such a small part of who I am, but it's still a part the puzzle that makes me up. I joke with people sometimes I forget I am gay. I'm glad I arrived here and I look back at how close I came to not quite making it and I know I am blessed. I pray for the kids who didn't make it because of bullying and feel so sad for them and their families. I wish they had known that it gets better. It does. And we've come a long way. We have. And there's still more to do. There is.