Coming Out Day

The response came via a letter.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from my parents when I came out, but I knew I had to be honest. It was time.

The letter was pretty bad.

You'll get AIDS.

You need to pray.

The people you hang out with are bad.

You watch too much tv.

No man will be welcome on this farm, ever.

I've always wondered what it will be with you next, Zeb.

Before the letter to my parents, my friend Becky was the first person I shared my secret with. Her words were simple, that she knew, and so happy that I finally told her. "Now, let's order another round." followed up her response. Forever, Beck, you got my heart.

It wasn't until many years later that I realized the power of those words. At the time, I guess I downplayed it all and packed it away to think about later. When later came, it got hard, and I dealt with it. I realized that I don't deserve those words, and I started to understand what they meant. What they really meant.

Years later, I talked about it with my dad, and he answered with a simple, "I love you, and it's ok."

When my dad died, I felt like I should come out again, for whatever reason. I made sure my family knew I was gay, and I was met with a lot of encouraging words. One of my aunts, in her 80's, said, "It sure doesn't matter to me. I love you and always have. Always will. All of us do. I don't think it's that big of a deal."

From a stoic SD farmwife, those are pretty big words.

As I embark on my 2nd act of life, I am proud of my identity. And all the support from those around me as I continue to come out and figure out ways to get involved in advancing Queer rights. And happy that — despite so many awful situations — in so many ways we've come a long way to gay folks being loved inclusively.