I had absolutely no fallout from coming out. I made a huge deal out of it for years. Terrifying, sometimes paralyzing,  fear of being rejected by the most important people in my life originated the crippling social anxiety I still have today. 

But if you really think about it just the concept of “luck” is incredibly destructive. Why should someone be lucky for telling their loved ones such an important and personal thing. 

They’re the lucky ones! They’re lucky you decided to risk everything in your life, (specially if you live in a conservative country) for them to know your truth. 

Coming out still is one of the bravest things I’ve ever done. For myself. 

And everyday I risk being called a faggot (or worse) on the street is a day I’m proud to be alive. 

I always started the same way:”I want you to know that I’m sharing this with you  because I love and trust you.”

I became so addicted to all the lying that it actually emboldened me; and whenever someone asked me about my “girlfriend” i would tell them: “girlfriend? I have more than one”. they all loved how cheeky I was. But deep down I exaggerated so they knew i was lying shamelessly to their faces. I felt like shit every time. 

I’m sure they wouldn’t like it as much if I had said: “I’m dating 3 men at the same time – and I FUCKING LOVE IT!” Didn’t emboldened me enough tho..: I was a very late bloomer. 

The first guy who dared to kiss me on the street in broad daylight I immediately fell in love with. But he lived an ocean apart. So the long distance didn’t work even though we deeply loved each other. 

To this day he still is my prototype of a man – brave, a bit of an asshole but with a big heart. 

Right now I’m going through a phase where I only attract weak, broken men, who truly are terrible people as well as compulsive liars. But I’m certain they won’t stand the test of time and I’ll eventually get tired. Either way I’m still very optimistic. The world is a big place and brave men out there.