Coming Out as Gay: My Personal Journey

We all have our own story when it comes to coming out as gay. This is mine—a journey that unfolded slowly, with moments of fear, joy, heartbreak, and ultimately, love and acceptance. It’s not a single moment, but a process that continues to evolve.

How It All Began

I can’t pinpoint the exact day I came out, because for me, it wasn’t a one-time event. It was a gradual unfolding, a series of realisations that started when I was around 19, during my university years. That might seem late to some, but everyone’s journey is different, and that’s perfectly okay.

Back then, I wasn’t interested in girls, but I didn’t immediately label myself as gay either. I was curious—particularly about the idea of being intimate with other guys—but I didn’t see myself in the stereotypical image of gay men that was so prevalent at the time. I wasn’t feminine, and I didn’t relate to the way gay men were portrayed in the media.

Then, something shifted. I reconnected with an old friend, and during our chats, he came out to me. That moment sparked something inside me. I recognised similar feelings in myself and told him I might be bisexual. At the time, it felt safer to say that than to fully embrace the idea that I might be gay.

My First Relationship

That same friend invited me to a party. It was mostly a straight crowd, but there were a few gay guys there. And then he walked in—tall, confident, and completely captivating. I was instantly drawn to him. I didn’t even realise I was flirting until later, but I was completely taken by him.

We went on a few dates, and two months later, he asked me to be his boyfriend. I was stunned, having no idea what I was doing, but I said yes. I thought I was just “trying out” this gay thing and could always change my mind later. But that was the beginning of everything. Spoiler alert: I didn’t change my mind. I was gay, and I had finally admitted it to myself.

Coming Out as Gay to My Family

It took a few months into the relationship before I told my mother. Actually, she kind of pulled it out of me. After a particularly emotional fight with my boyfriend over the phone, I broke down crying. My mother saw me and, in that way mothers just know, asked me if I was gay.

Through tears, I told her I was “bisexual.” At the time, I still clung to that label because it felt like an easier pill for both of us to swallow. She responded by saying she had always suspected I might be gay, but she also said she thought it was just a phase. Two contradictory things in the same sentence. She referred to it as “a situation” and wasn’t thrilled about my boyfriend, believing he had somehow “made me gay.”

It was a difficult time. She was confused, and so was I. But despite the discomfort and denial, the conversation had begun—and that was a start.

Things Got Better

Over time, things began to shift. My mother slowly started coming to terms with my sexuality, and with each relationship I had, she grew more comfortable.

I’ve had three boyfriends over the years, and with each one, she became more open, more accepting, and eventually, genuinely supportive.

By the time I met the man who would become my husband, she was not only accepting—she was fully embracing. Today, she loves him dearly, and our relationship is warmly welcomed in the family. It’s been a gradual journey, but one that has brought us closer together.

Coming Out Is Still a Process

Even now, years later, coming out as gay remains an ongoing journey. Most people in my life know, but there are still a few I feel awkward telling. There are still moments of hesitation, especially with people I don’t know well or in professional settings. But I’ve learned that coming out isn’t about one big announcement—it’s about living truthfully, moment by moment.

Final Thoughts

Coming out as gay is deeply personal. For me, it was a slow, sometimes painful, but ultimately beautiful process. I’ve grown, I’ve loved, and I’ve been loved in return. And while the journey isn’t over, I’m proud of how far I’ve come.