Hey dad, it’s me. Your beloved eldest. I have some things to say to you, and they’re not going to be pleasing to your traditional ears – to you these sorts of topics are vulgar, taboo, not to be mentioned anywhere under any circumstances. Love, sex and all things in between? Pretend they don’t exist; babies come from the storks, after all. Do you remember that day, nearly 21 years ago? It was a cold, winter afternoon. The sun provided some welcomed warmth on that fateful day. You must’ve been so anxious, awaiting the birth of your first born. You must’ve felt a tiny bit hopeless that you could do nothing but wait as your beloved wife underwent a c-section surgery. Did a nurse come into the waiting room and announce my arrival, in all my blood and amniotic fluid covered glory? Did you see me as soon as I arrived? Or did you have to wait eagerly for hours while they finished up the surgery and cleaned me up? There are so many questions I have about that day. But, one thing’s for sure. That day, you made a promise – a promise to yourself and to me – that you’d love me and protect me no matter what obstacles you face. And, mostly, you’ve kept that promise. You put a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food on the table. For that, I am forever grateful. But today, dad, I need you to love me more than you have ever loved me before. Here goes nothing: I’m bisexual. I like girls, I like guys, I like anyone that doesn’t identify on the binary. I don’t control my sexuality, it just came to me naturally one day in 7th grade, when I started crushing on a teacher, who was a woman. It came to me as naturally as it is for a human to breathe. Of course, there was ample denial – I didn’t want to accept myself. I wanted to be “normal”, I wanted to fit in. I tried having boyfriends even when I was crushing on the cutest girl in class. It was incredibly difficult to accept myself, and I had to do all of it, alone. I opened up to my peers at some point, some accepted me for who I am, but some abandoned me. Worse still, some faked their acceptance and instead kept me around not because they genuinely wanted my presence, but because I was only useful to them at the time. I remember this one specific time, a “friend” of mine asked me if I was bisexual, and out of sheer stupidity I said yes. He then asked me if I could have sex with his girlfriend while he watched. I had never blocked someone out of my life so fast, dad – I felt objectified beyond measure. It’s been hard, being somewhat out of the closet. What made it harder was keeping the whole secret from you, the parent I share everything with. You were there for my first steps, my first day of school, and so many other firsts. It felt like a cardinal sin, keeping this from you. Yet, somehow the mere idea of telling you felt like an even bigger sin. But, now you know. I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me for keeping such a big secret from you, and I hope with an even greater ferocity that you don’t love me any less because of this. I’ve seen so many LGBTQ+ horror stories involved with coming out…
Thanks for reading this, dad.
I love you.