Jake’s Life

This post is long overdue. I realize that I left everyone hanging with the last part of my coming out story, so here’s the rundown to finish it up. When we last left off I had left the home of the person who had taken me in.

After I moved out I moved in with some friends, then some other friends, I was able to afford my own place. My very first place…it brings back a lot of memories. A 450 sq. ft. studio…$605 a month! Anyway, despite being tiny and expensive, I spent a year here before moving into what I consider to be my favorite apartment/living situation I’ve ever had: It was a 1200 sq. ft. one bedroom right off a main “gay” area, the living room was the size of my living room now, plus the two smaller bedroom. The bedroom was big too, and the kitchen had more cabinet and counter space than I would ever have needed. I was only paying $650 for the place.

It was in this apartment that I got my cat, and it was here that I was sitting when I found out from my grandmother that my mom had died a few minutes beforehand. Based on the previous posts on my coming out it’s not hard to see what my being gay did to my mother, and to our relationship. I’m an only child, and she was an only parent, and our bond was pretty strong.

The few weeks prior to my mother leaving her body we started talking again. Due to the pain she was constantly in it was heart breaking: She didn’t know who I was sometimes, often she couldn’t understand me through the pain, and she could barely talk. The day before she died my grandmother put the phone up to her ear and I started talking, but all I heard were moans and sounds of the pain she was in.

Anyway, the only person in my family that I am still close with is my grandmother. She recently moved out of my uncle’s house and into a senior apartment building about a mile away from me. In each other’s eyes, we’re all we have when it comes to family. To be honest, I don’t really mind that this is true, all except for my mother. The other morning on Thanksgiving I realized that Christmas was right around the corner, and some of my best memories during the Holidays was with her. Sure we didn’t have much money, but we had each other. It was really hard for me to even leave my bed. Sometimes, despite what happened with my coming out, it’s really hard to not think about her. My grandmother suffers from this even more. It’s hard to watch your child die, and in many ways that’s unnatural. The only reasons I am as strong as I am is because I know she isn’t, and I have to be strong enough for the both of us.

Why am I going into all of this even though my story has covered when I came out? All of this is directly related to my coming out, and I believe that things would have been different if I either didn’t come out or my mother had taken it better. I also want to show readers of my blog the different paths one can be set on when they do come out, what risks there are, and how lucky most of them are to just get a cold shoulder from their family when they find out. I have to say, I have little patience for people who wig out when their parents have shown nothing but love all their lives, have hinted to them that they know, and the person (or in this case, blogger) still freaks out about telling them. News flash buddy, they know, they’re just waiting for you to show the trust with them that they have with you. Knock off the “what-will-I-do-what-will-I-say-how- can-I-hide-it-from-the-people-who-love-me-the-most-in-my-life” mentality and cherish the time you have with them while you can. Chances are that others have already bore the brunt of your coming out negativity so you don’t have to.