I Came Out As Gay And My Best Friend Told Me It Was Just A Phase

That I was confused. Like I’m having a sexuality crisis. Like one morning, I just felt that Hey, I think being gay is cool I want to try it and I just went along with it.

But let me first tell you a little teeny background about my being gay.

Oops, warning: This is not homophobic-friendly. But whatever.

I’ve always been a bit feminine. Maybe feminine is a strong term. Let’s try soft. My non-verbal behavior has this grace and elegance that you know any straight guy doesn’t have.

I was quiet in middle school and in my community, a quiet guy is probably gay — like 83.64% chance that he’s gay. But the gay kid inside me didn’t manifest palpably. I was mostly just quiet, prim and proper.

Expectedly, people had been talking and arguing if I’m really gay or not. Like whoever’s right wins a 1 million grand prize. I already got used to people asking me Are you gay? I always said no. I was not ready yet. And I won’t say yes just so I could sate their curiosity.

Then I turned 20. Rumors were growing. Is he gay? I think he’s gay. There’s no way he’s not gay. They could even probably report about my being gay through a powerpoint presentation. So in December that year, I thought it was about time to tell the world:

Yup I’m gay.

It felt like it was the News Of The Year, the Year’s Biggest Reveal. After coming out, every time I met somebody they’d ask:

“Is it true?”

“What is true?”

“You know…”

I said “I thought it’s always been true to you guys. You wouldn’t accept any truth beside that.”

So a few days after, I had lunch with my “best” (?) friend. She opened her mouth and the words came out:

“You know, I think your being gay is just a phase.”

That’s her first statement. I hadn’t read a thing in the menu and she already dropped the bomb. Bold.

I just shrugged. I knew she didn’t know what she’s talking about. But she kept dropping tiny bombs.

“I mean, you liked a girl before.”

Uhh, I think every gay guy did at one point.

“And you’re too handsome for that.”

Wait. Gay guys can’t be handsome? My eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s such a waste.”

I couldn’t fathom what she meant by this. Like I could probably have lots of girlfriends but then I couldn’t because I decided to be gay?

“That’s your choice, though.”

So again, like I woke up one morning and told myself ‘Hey, I want to try being gay today’?

“I really do believe that’s just a phase.”

Gurl, I already knew I was gay since fourth grade. That is too long to be a phase.

“Plus you behave like a normal guy.”

Uhh, define normal guy. Sexuality doesn’t necessarily manifest physically. I can move and act and talk like the straightest man in the world and can still be gay. It’s about what I feel, not what I show.

Then she ended her filibuster with this.

“You can’t be gay. You’re just confused.”

I’ve never been so disappointed like this in my entire life — potential life inside the womb included. A best friend should be the first one to know about her best friend being gay, whether he already came out or not. It’s a ‘best friend instinct’. Unfortunately, she did notice but she thought it couldn’t be real.

Too bad for her. I’m gay. This is who I am. This is who I want to be. I want to be with my bros — guys rather. This is both my choice and not my choice. It’s not my choice that I’ve always been like this. But it’s my choice to continue living like this.

Being able to live outside the closet is one of the best decisions I’ve made. I’m flying. I’m free.


To gays… who had the courage to reveal who they are… who are still struggling with what they feel even though they know it’s real… who can’t reveal themselves yet because it’s a cultural taboo… who got disowned by their friends and family after they came out [they don’t deserve you]… who are already flying with no metal balls chained in our feet dragging us down…

I’m proud of you. And other people should too.

Keep flying.

PS. I’m now estranged with my former best friend because she couldn’t see the real me. I still love her, though. But I deserve better.


To Every Complicated Depression, No Cheers To You

To that person who suffers from depression in a way that he doesn’t understand.

You wake up in the morning, feeling like bursting into tears. Your heart palpitates. You breathing is uncontrollable. You ask yourself: “What happened?” Nobody could answer the question, even you.

You spend a day with smiles all over your face. Not fake ones. Genuine, pure, innocent smiles. To your misfortune, you suddenly feel troubled. Disturbed. Worried. Down. You ask yourself: “What happened? Did something trigger my depression?” You aren’t able to specifically answer the question because you’re hearing the voice in your head say everything.

You don’t dismiss your feelings but you don’t give them attention either. Smart. You don’t even know what caused it so might as well let it pass, right? You socialize, run some errands, do your basic tasks. You keep living your day but there’s some dark, heavy, colossal metal ball dragging you down. You feel it inside your heart, hence the uneasy breathing and tightness. You ask yourself: “What is happening?” You don’t understand. There’s no way to understand.

You eat lunch with a friend, trying to poke the light inside you. Have some fun, you tell yourself. You explain to her how weird you feel. You can’t stop talking, your words form a miserable sequence. She tells you: “You look fine. Did something happen?” You breathed in quickly. How do you answer that question? How do you argue that no, I may look fine but I’m actually not. How do you make them believe? Does it matter?

You’re now alone at your apartment. Alone with your thoughts. The only noise you hear are the sound of the kettle boiling and the stomps of your thoughts running in your head. You feel that later it will explode. Along with the insides of your chest. A burst of air and blood as you scream into the void. You ask yourself: “What’s happening? What caused this? What’s the reason for this?” And amidst the million thoughts in your head, something stands out and finally gives you an answer: “It’s just is.”

What the hell? At first you don’t understand. At first, you think it’s nonsense. But it is what it is. You realize it’s been your new normal. Your default. Dark, heavy, dragging. Depression is your default. It is what it is and that alone makes living inhumane.