Coming out is never easy and is always terrifying no matter what. There are so many unknown factors and that’s really where my story begins. I never really knew who or what I wanted in a relationship until I found my current partner.

I struggled day in and day out coming to terms with my sexuality not because I was scared of what people thought, but because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone important to me. So I struggled with this part of myself for a while. I didn’t know if I was gay because I was still attracted to women and I didn’t know if I liked men so I was in this weird state of limbo. I wanted to pursue men but was so scared to. It wasn’t until my friend told me something that I will never forget. He told me that

“Whether you date a man or a woman doesn’t mean anything to anyone. The only person who matters is you and if you date a guy it doesn’t mean you have to follow the labels society gives you. You identify yourself for you and no one else.”

That conversation gave me the courage to find myself, and after finding myself, I found my partner. I told my parents, but there were a lot of people in my family that didn’t know and that meant the most to me. I come from a big Hispanic family and I didn’t want to have to hide myself from anyone.

One day I decided to stop hiding. I was at a Fourth of July barbecue and my cousin had come up to me and asked why my brother always had cute girls but I never had anyone. The truth was I did, I had this amazing guy right next to me but he was only known as my friend. So on our one year anniversary of being together I finally got the courage to let the world know who I really was. I did it because I was tired of hiding myself from the world. I knew that even if my family didn’t accept it, I still had love and support from others who were like family. Plus I was tired of hiding my love for my partner and it wasn’t fair that we couldn’t be “together” around my family. So rather than telling each person individually I told everyone on Facebook. Boy was that scary! I made the post and it went out for everyone to see. The next thing I did was freak out! I had no idea what I had done and was pacing back and forth over what I just did. I wanted to delete the post as soon as I realized what I had done. I turned off my notifications so I couldn’t see who commented or reacted to it. That had to be the longest and most sleepless night of my life. I constantly woke up and wondered what people were saying and the next morning I checked. I was terrified for what was to come but surprisingly it wasn’t bad at all. I had so much love and support from everyone in my family and not one person turned away from me. My great grandma who is still alive told my mom,

"Mija he won’t be the first and he won’t be the last and I will always love him."

Knowing I had so much love and support was one of the best feelings in the world but what I remember the most was not the support, but being able to share my partner and my love with my family and not have to hide it from anyone. I know that I am very lucky to have my support system when so many others don’t but my coming out story wasn’t about finding a family, it was about finding myself and finding out how I can love.

I didn’t have a conscious interest in women until my sophomore year in college. Looking back now, it’s clear to me that I had been interested in both men and women growing up, but I simply leaned toward the more socially acceptable match-up in my younger years.

My first girlfriend was actually my “Big Sister” in my sorority. Somehow, we cautiously courted each other and ended up confessing a mutual interest in one another. We didn’t tell anyone. We dated for over a year – no labels, no public admission. Eventually, she broke up with me. She didn’t think that her parents would support her decision to date a woman. She supplemented her reasoning by claiming that she wasn’t actually interested in women at all, saying that she always wanted that white picket fence, American family dream; I obviously couldn’t be a part of that.

Despite being crushed, we both tried to infuse some platonic normalcy into our redefined relationship. I started seeing a guy that I met through Greek Life. No matter what we did, however, my ex-girlfriend and I just couldn’t seem to re-establish a healthy friendship. She became jealous, manipulative, and emotionally and physically abusive. I felt completely and unavoidably stuck. All of the friends that I had before I started dating her weren’t really talking to me anymore; from their perspective, I had found a new best friend, and I refused to share that part of my life with them. Even if I thought I could turn to one of them for support, I didn’t feel like it was my place to out someone else.

Everything was building up and up, my emotional stress accumulating, until I just broke down and left campus.

I drove back home to my parents’ house. I was on autopilot. I wasn’t even really sure what I was going to say, but I was quickly losing my grasp on my sanity and my mental health, and I desperately needed someone to talk to. I opened up to my mom first; she had always wanted me to share more of my life with her, when I was growing up. I thought if anything she’d be happy that I was finally talking to her about something real. I was lucky. Her acceptance and support was the lifeline that I needed. I asked her to talk to my dad for me, because I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him one-on-one. He was just as understanding. At that moment, it was crazy to think that I had prolonged my own despair and isolation, because I had been too afraid to share that part of me with anyone. I had been consumed by “what if” scenarios, that I would play over in my head. As I said, I was lucky to be able to rely on my parents; but after feeling that enormous sense of relief, I realized that reaching out to anyone who might have been supportive – even a stranger – would have helped save me. Now, I can confidently say that I would rather openly be myself, than pretend to be someone else that people might have an easier time accepting.

It’s so easy to feel stuck and to let yourself live there, because at least it’s familiar territory. We think it’s safer than the unknown. I know it’s stereotypical, but coming out was like ripping off a Band-Aid. It had the potential to feel horrible in the moment, but deep down I knew that it would also allow me to properly heal.

From the time of this posting, it has been 4,278 days since I came out. 11 years, 8 months, 19 days.

This day forever changed my life, it was the first time I ever told anyone that I was, and still very much am, gay. I remember it clearly and it was not the most ideal setting. I was a freshmen in high school and I had been talking with a really good friend on MSN instant messenger. The conversation was silly, but it went something like this:

Me: Hey, I have something I have been meaning to tell you. Promise you won't tell anyone?

Her: What's up?

Me: I have a secret

Her: Ok, what is it?

Me: Do you know that thing, the thing that everyone always says about me?

Her: No

Me: Yes you do, everyone always talks about it

Her: I know that you're a nice guy.

Me: No, hah, everyone calls me the gay kid, and I am.

I did it, I told someone. My heart was racing. I was sitting in the basement of my parents house on a really old computer we had setup to play video games on. For one reason or another, I had not been playing the Playstation. I just came out to a girl I went to high school with, we were just freshmen. We ended the conversation and I signed off of MSN, but not before sending myself the entire chat log to my old "hotmail.com" address.

The next day at school, I was sure that everyone knew my secret. There was no way that word traveled that fast in our small little town, there is no way my best friend at the time would tell everyone. Would she?

Fast forward to one random day and I was sent home with a grade mid quarter sheet. I was getting a C- in freshmen algebra. The moment I got home I had to show my mom so she could sign it and acknowledge she saw the report. Needless to say, she was not happy at all. I was told to sit at the dining room table and begin working on my algebra homework, this grade was not acceptable. My heart began to race, my palms were sweaty and my leg was shaking. Mom was furious about my grade but she was in the kitchen making dinner while dad was outside doing some yard work. It was the fall and leaves were all over our yard, I was supposed to be doing the yard work but my algebra got me out of the manual labor. Mom came over by me, still upset over my grade, and scolding me for the grade.

It slipped, it came up like word vomit.

Me: Mom, do you know Uncle Steve?

Mom: What about him!?

Me: I'm just like him.

Mom: What do you mean?

Me: I am just like Uncle Steve... I'm gay.

Mom: -silence and long pause- You think you're gay?

Me: I am gay.

Mom: Stay here, I'm going to get your father

It was a nightmare. My mom went to get my father and the three of us sat at the dining room table and discussed what had just come out of my mouth. My mom kept saying that I thought I was gay. She didn't understand how I was gay, even though I told her that "being a guy, our outward anatomy responds and it becomes very apparent what we're attracted to." This didn't go over very well. After talking about it for what seemed like hours, I was sent to my room. I didn't eat dinner, neither did mom.

The next day, Dad drove me to school. We rode in silence, it was awkward and I was afraid for what life was going to be like from this point forward. Before I got out of the car I remember what my Dad said to me, "your mother and I love you very much, Daniel."

I walked into school and passed a group of friends. They could tell something was wrong, I was pale and had the look of shock on my face. I didn't talk to them and walked away to sit in silence in the hallway.

Days passed and I don't recall eating. I know for a fact I lost 10lbs. Finally my mom started to talk to me. She told me that I had to tell my family the news, but before I could even tell them, she had already prepped them telling them that I "thought" I was gay. My brothers didn't say much, my sister told me "It's about damn time."

Whenever I think about my coming out story, I remember it being very traumatic. I lived in a small town, I had always been harassed and bullied for being the gay kid. Looking back on the experience and knowing what I know now, life was so much better once I came out. My mom was shocked, I dropped a huge bombshell on her. In her defense, she was only worried about my well-being. Her brother Steve, who I referred to earlier, died from AIDS. My mothers fear stemmed from the experience she had with her brother, a fear of losing another loved one to a horrible disease.

As time would go on, and the shock faded away, my mom became one of my biggest supporters and one of my favorite people. Now that I'm an adult, my mom and I have a really great relationship and I'm very open with her. At the time of coming out, 15 year old Daniel would have never imaged what 26 year old Daniel knows today.