Better on the Outside: Part II
We decided to go to Nashville, Tennessee on our vacation. I had been to Nashville once before, but this was Alex’s first visit. So, we jumped in the car early one morning and drove to Nashville. We were two gay people on a road trip from Arkansas to Tennessee, so you can imagine what was going through our scared little minds.
We arrived in Nashville hours later and got checked into our hotel. It was nice and cozy just a few miles from downtown. It was cheaper than staying right in the middle of downtown and we were on a budget. Waffle House was right across the street from our hotel, so I felt right at home. Comfort food was always welcome, and I love Waffle House, even still today.
The first couple of nights in Nashville we just took in some of the sites around town. We played tourist. We went to Opryland USA, took a cruise on the General Jackson and did some shopping. I noticed there were lots of eye-candy around town and we were seeing quite a few other gay folks. It was nice. We had never seen so many gay people in the same town. Back home, they were few and very far between.
We also took in a brand-new drag show that had just opened in Nashville called Cowboy LaCage. They had recently been featured on Donahue, so when I saw the show was in Nashville, I knew we had to go. I had watched this show on Donahue over and over and was totally amazed.
Cowboy LaCage was a drag show for celebrity look-a-likes such as Dolly Parton, Wynonna, Reba McEntire, Bette Midler, Barbra Streisand, Tina Turner and more. I must say, it was the best drag show I have ever seen to this day. They looked exactly like the celebrity they were portraying and were simply phenomenal. Better yet, they were all men! Drag shows usually suck, but looking back at this one, it was at the top of the class. It was amazing.
Cowboy LaCage was a great start, but we knew coming to Nashville that we wanted to go to our very first gay bar while we were in town. Here, nobody would know us or care. We had nothing to hide, to be ashamed of, or afraid of. Deep down, we were scared to death. We were about to walk into a place that we had never ever been in before or knew anything about. It was overwhelming.
We pulled out the phone book from our hotel night stand and flipped through the pages. We had no clue what we were looking for, where to look, or how to find what we were looking for. We started looking in the Yellow Pages to see if we could find some gay clubs. Before we knew it, Alex and I were on our way to Connection Nashville.
This was a trip of firsts. To get to the club, we decided we’d take a taxi. We had never been in a taxi before either. It was easy to get a taxi as our hotel was swarming with them. As we walked out of our hotel, the taxi driver basically met us without us having to call for him. We got some cash together and jumped in.
It was a short ride to the club. Our hearts were about to beat out of our chests as the taxi pulled up to the flashing neon lights. We just sat there staring at each other not knowing if we could go through with it, but we did. That short ride ended up costing us $40, but we didn’t care. As we got out of the taxi, we were suddenly alone as the cab drove off.
We made our way to the front door entrance. Those few steps were only a hop and a skip from where our cab driver had dropped us off, but it felt like it was a mile. We opened the door and paid our way inside. The music was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think, but Alex and I made a mad dash through the smoke-filled bar and sat down.
We ordered a beer to try and relax as we began to look around the club. We had never seen such a variety of people in one place. Being overwhelmed is an understatement. The club had two levels, so we ventured around downstairs for a while before making it upstairs. There were couches to sit on, tables and barstools, pool tables and more. We were lost without a clue, but we just kept going with the flow. The blind was leading the blind.
Alex and I were what they called “new meat” in the gay world. We got lots of stares and winks as we ventured around the club. It was flattering, but scary as hell. Nothing like that had ever happened to us before, so we didn’t know what to do. Basically, we ignored the gestures. We were too scared to acknowledge it.
We finally found a table and ordered another beer. Taking in all the people, the lights, music, and surroundings were fascinating. Still scared, our nerves were slowly calming down. We were suddenly surprised when a strange black man came over to our table and introduced himself.
His name was Yanza. He was older, had long dreadlocks and was tall and slender. As he sat down, he said he could tell we were “newbies.” He was right. For the rest of the evening, Yanza kept us company and took us under his wing. A protector if you will. He talked about the bar scene, life, being gay, and how he overcame family rejection because of him being gay. It was very educational to me just listening to his stories.
He bought us a few drinks and introduced us to some of his friends. I, always the shy one, even danced with Yanza when he asked. Something I would have never done before in a million years. Believe it or not, I enjoyed it.
It was nice to chat with other gay folks and find out we were not alone. Everyone had their stories and thoughts. It was very comforting. It made our terrifying evening of going to our very first gay bar much more enjoyable having others to talk with.
At the end of the night, Alex and I said our goodbyes. We thanked Yanza and his friends for hanging with us and showing us around. He didn’t have to do that, but he spent his evening watching over us and he couldn’t have been nicer. It made our first experience at a gay club a night we’d always remember. To this day, I’ve never seen any of those folks again.
Vacation ended, and it was time to go back home to Arkansas. I continued to keep up my crazy work schedule between my two jobs and put aside my social life. What social life? I didn’t have one and didn’t know where to begin to have one. Even after opening-up and having a great time in Nashville at the gay club around strangers, coming back home pushed everything back into hiding as before.
Being on vacation opened my eyes a little more. I found there were lots of other gay folks out there like me that I had never seen before or knew about. I saw a whole new world out there and I was about to join the living.
Alex eventually quit working at the hospital. We grew apart and didn’t see each other much. Finally, I decided it was time I started to venture out on my own and make new friends. It was scary going alone, but I started going to the gay club in Little Rock, Arkansas. Eventually, I started making friends that I could and only would see at the clubs. I still lived at home, so there was no way I could invite my new gay friends over to visit. I was still living a secret life.
It was nice going to the clubs to hang with my new friends where I could be myself. I had been living a lie for so long, not only to myself, but everyone around me. At first, I didn’t even know how to act around other gay people. It felt good to walk into the club and know that nobody was judging me, looking at me funny, staring, snickering, or wondering if I were gay. I had nothing to hide while I was at the club surrounded by my own community. It was a feeling that I had never had before, and a feeling I had never had alone.
While going to the clubs, I met guys and got to know some of them. Sharing conversations, life struggles, similar experiences, and more. It was nice having other gay guys to talk to for a change. I had never had a relationship at this point, so I was looking to make new friends first and foremost.
A new gal started working with me at the dairy bar. We became fast friends. She was in her 40’s at the time and I was now 21. Oddly enough, we had lots in common. I enjoyed working with her and we laughed a lot, gossiped a lot, and worked a lot.
Over time, I felt close to her. I knew early on that she was one I could talk to. We had talked about homosexuality and other topics during our days of working together, so I knew she knew I was gay. Eventually, I opened-up and told her I was gay. Other than my barber, Alex, and a handful of my secretly kept gay friends, she was the only other person who now knew I was gay. It took me a long time to get up the nerve to tell her. It felt good to know she didn’t judge me or think less of me.
From that moment on, I began to have more confidence in myself as a gay man. Opening up to my co-worker gave me thoughts about wanting to open up to my parents at home and tell them I was gay. I just couldn’t. How could I? What would my parents think? Would they hate me? How would they react? What would they say? Would they disown me? How would I tell them?
It was something I never dreamed up to that point I would ever do. I had talked to my co-worker about it over and over and she always gave me advice and words of encouragement. As a mother, she said she would always want her children to tell her if they were gay and how she would love them anyway and support them. I only hoped that would be my case when I decided to come out to my mom and dad. I was scared to death every time I thought about it. I knew the day was coming it was going to happen, but I wasn’t ready yet.
I did know, that when the day came, I would tell my mom first. She and I had always been extremely close my entire life. And as before, my mom had continued to ask me from time to time if I were gay. And as before, I always said no. I always figured my mom knew in her heart that I was gay, but I would never admit it. I just couldn’t no matter how much I wanted to.
My dad never asked me anything. I didn’t want to hurt my parents in any way, disappoint them, or make them think less of me. That was never my intentions at all. I always wanted to make them happy and to be proud of me.
After many prayers and after keeping my secret to myself all these years, I finally decided it was time to come out to my parents. I knew eventually there was going to come a point where I couldn’t take it any longer. I couldn’t continue to live a lie to myself and everyone around me. I couldn’t keep hiding my feelings. I couldn’t continue to hide in fear. I had to free myself of this burden that was eating away at my soul or I was never going to be able to live my own life for myself. A life without being afraid. A life spent living in the closet not being true to myself. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.
I made a promise to myself. The next time my mom asked me if I were gay, I was going to tell her and finally tell the truth. It was easy to say this to myself. Not out loud. The more I thought about it, the more frightening it was. I couldn’t sleep at night, I couldn’t think straight, and I couldn’t focus on anything. I got cold chills, sweats, nervous, scared, and sick to my stomach.
It was a horrible feeling. A feeling I wouldn’t wish on any other LGBT person who may be fighting the same truth. I knew that if I were going through this torture that there were millions of others who were as well. I just wish I had had another gay person to talk to about this during that time. Just one. I had nobody. Not even my “gay” friends could help me. It was something I had to do on my own. It was the most gut-wrenching time of my life up to that point. I was alone.
Weeks passed, and I was on edge. Always wondering when the moment was going to arise. When was I going to be asked again? I worried about it 24/7. It wasn’t good for my health, my mind, or my body. I was tired all the time from my lack of sleeping at night and my work schedule between both jobs was starting to take a toll. I had no time for anything. Just work and home. Work and home. I felt like everything was starting to crumble around me.
I had even been talking to myself about this. Asking myself the dreadful question of, “Are you gay?” I couldn’t even answer myself, so how was I going to be honest with my mom if, and when, she asked me again? I told myself I wasn’t going to do it. I would just keep it to myself forever. I would just continue to live a lie, but something inside me would not let me rest. I kept coming back to myself and reassuring my mind that coming out was the right thing to do. It was time to be me. Time to tell the truth. Time to live.
Finally, in 1995 the moment of truth came. Mom and I were watching a movie one night after dad had gone to bed. Something was in the air. I could feel it. I could sense this was going to be the night. I just knew. My heart was racing as I rehearsed my words in my head. I felt sick. I felt numb. I felt like dying.
During the movie, mom finally said, “Lee, can I ask you a question?” My heart sank, and I felt like I was being choked and the life was draining out of me. I swallowed hard and said, “sure.” She asked me the dreadful question that I had been waiting on and had prepared myself for this time. “Are you gay?” A thousand things ran through my mind before I got my thoughts together. From the time she asked me until I answered was only a few seconds, but it seemed like hours.
Finally, I closed my eyes and said to myself before I spoke, “Dear Lord, please give me strength.” Then without thinking, I said to my mom, “What if I am?” We stared at each other for a moment before she said, “Well, are you?” My heart was about to beat out of my chest. I went on to admit, “Yes. I am gay.” I did it. I said it out loud. It didn’t seem real.
That moment changed my life in an instant. I immediately felt like a ton of weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt my body and my mind instantly relax. I felt calm. I felt at ease. I felt like I had just been given life for the first time in 21 years. I felt alive. I finally was able to spill my feelings out loud for the very first time. The feeling I felt is almost unexplainable unless you’ve been in that situation. It was the most amazing feeling ever. Thinking about it now, I can feel it all over again. It gives me chills.
I couldn’t believe I had finally admitted to my mom that I was gay. She took it hard and began to cry. So, did I. We held each other and hugged each other. She went on to say, “I had no idea, but deep down I had thought you might be gay.” Then she began to blame herself and say that it must have been her fault that I was gay. Of course, that was not true. I was gay, and nobody was at fault.
We spent the rest of the evening talking. Lots of questions were asked and I tried to explain it all to my mom the best I could. My thoughts. My feelings. It was hard, and she was hurt. Most any parent would be. As we talked, I opened-up even more and we cried on each other’s shoulders. I knew everything was going to be okay when my mom said, “I don’t understand, but I still love you more than anything.” Those were the words I was waiting to hear. The words I had hoped to hear.
The next day my mom went to visit her family and told them the news. Some were shocked, and some were not totally surprised. As days passed, it was a little awkward at times talking to mom about all of this. I wasn’t used to being able to talk about my feelings. I had kept them secret my entire life. So, talking about it just seemed weird in the beginning, but that was just part of the aftermath.
As far as my dad, mom didn’t tell him for a few weeks afterwards. She said he was shocked and blamed himself, which it wasn’t his fault either. Nobody was to blame.
Dad took it hard also. Shortly after mom told him, he left home to go to the farm where he worked a second job. He was gone for hours and hours and we hadn’t heard from him. When mom went to check on him, she found him asleep in his truck with a gun across his lap. He felt he was to blame and was going to kill himself. Luckily, he fell asleep instead and he didn’t harm himself. Of course, I felt horrible that both my parents were blaming themselves. It wasn’t their fault and blaming themselves was a natural-instinct as parents. I guess most parents go through that if they are faced with this same ordeal.
As days and weeks passed, mom and I continued to talk about my being gay. It got easier and easier to talk to her about it. She didn’t like the fact, or understand it, but over time she accepted it and it became easier to handle as time went on. I know it wasn’t easy for her. I never expected it to be, but she never turned her back on me and neither did my dad. Mom and I were already close, and it brought us even closer after my coming out. If that were even possible. We are as close as ever still today. She’s been there for me my entire life.
I had expected distance to come between us afterwards, but it was just the opposite. We were closer. Nothing changed. Dad never once asked me anything about it and it was almost like he didn’t even know. Nothing changed with him either. I think it brought us closer together as well. He just chose not to talk about it and that was fine. I knew when he was ready to talk to me about it he would. Almost 20 years passed, and that day never came. My dad died on November 21, 2013 and the subject was never talked about between us.
After coming out in 1995, my life changed for the better. My mom had been retired and my dad finally was able to retire from his job. They moved to the Ozark Mountains in North Arkansas. I quit both of my jobs and moved as well. I got a new job and my very first apartment about an hour away from my parents. I was finally free to live my own life and be true to myself. I was never and have never been one to flaunt being gay. It is what it is. It’s what I am. I don’t advertise it, but I don’t hide it either. I did that too long and I won’t do it again.
In 1996, I eventually met my first love, but not at the club. It was a singles column in a newspaper. That’s right. It was basically like a pen-pal. Remember those days? Anyway, he was also from Arkansas, but a few hours away. We had never met at this point and were just keeping in touch by mail back in those days trying to get to know each other.
Shortly after, he tells me he’s moving to St. Louis to live with his aunt for a while, so that meant we were going to be farther away. After a few weeks, I decided I would drive up to St. Louis to meet him for the first time.
I was nervous. We had swapped photos through mail, so we both knew what each other looked like. Or supposed to look like. He was tall, dark hair, slim, and I found him very attractive. When I arrived, he was sitting outside waiting on me. My heart was beating so hard as I walked towards him. When we saw each other, we smiled from ear to ear. It was love at first site as we met and introduced ourselves in person for the first time. I could tell he was nervous, but after a few minutes, it was like we had known each other for years.
His aunt lived in a condo and as we got into the elevator for him to take me up to meet her, he hugged me and then kissed me. I was shocked and surprised he kissed me already. I wanted to kiss him but held back. Instead, he beat me to it. That was my first kiss. We had no idea what we were doing. It was a whole new experience for us both.
His aunt was very nice. I liked her right away. Unlike my situation, his aunt knew he was gay, and she was cool with it. That’s why he went to live with her, so he could be himself unlike living at home.
His aunt had money, so she ended up making us a hotel reservation at a local hotel. As she put it, “I want the two of you to spend some time alone and get to know each other without me being in the way here at home.” I didn’t know what to say except, “Thank you.” What do you say to something like that? She gave him her credit card and said, “Have fun.”
The hotel was very nice. We had room service and all the trimmings. I didn’t have to pay for anything. Over the next few days we went shopping, went to movies, out to eat and just hung around the hotel. We went to the St. Louis Arch, the Zoo, and more. It was lots of fun.
Okay, okay, I know what you’re wanting to know. Did we have sex? Of course, we did! We were both in virgin land, but something between us didn’t feel that way. It came totally natural for both of us and the sex was great! I’ll admit, he had a nice big cock also and he knew how to use it. We learned together, but it didn’t feel like learning. It felt like we had always had great sex even though it was a first for both of us. Let’s just say after that first visit, I went home no longer a virgin.
It was short lived. We fell in love. After another couple of trips to see him and one trip of him coming to see me, lots more hot sex and hotel rooms (all paid for by his aunt), after six months the relationship ended. After he came to see me, he boarded the plane to go home and I never heard from him again. That’s right. I got nothing. No breakup, no goodbye, no reasoning, absolutely nothing.
I didn’t even know if he made it home safely. I called and called over a period-of-time and got no response. I eventually stopped calling. Finally, after a couple of months, his aunt called me back to explain what happened. She told me that he was supposed to have broken up with me when he came to visit because he was moving back home. Instead, when he returned to St. Louis, he told her he did break up with me, but he didn’t. That’s why she didn’t answer the phone at the times I would call because she thought I was upset. I was, but that’s not what I was upset over. She had no idea that he just left me hanging with no explanation.
She apologized, and we talked for a long time. I made sure to thank her for all she did for us during my visits. She was very nice to me, but I was heartbroken. I think she was too because she really liked me and thought we were great together. To this day, I still don’t understand why he wanted to break up with me just because he was moving home. Home was closer than St. Louis. I lived in Arkansas and he was moving back to Arkansas. We would have only been three hours away then instead of six. It made no sense. I never heard from his aunt again after that. You never forget your first love, but I have never heard from nor seen him since 1996.
Life moved on and my broken heart took time to heal. It only made me stronger and was a learning experience as well. Take my advice, long-distance relationships are not good for the soul. Even though I fell in love and enjoyed it while it lasted, it wasn’t worth the heartbreak in the end.
Even during heartache, for the first time ever, I was able to live my life for myself and be open to new adventures. I started to meet other gay people, have new relationships, new heartaches, and live life. Something I had never been able to do before living in denial. It felt great. I felt like a whole new person. Better yet, I was finally able to share my thoughts and feelings with my mom.
My parents met several of my new gay friends over the years as well as a few boyfriends. They were always accepting with open arms. I was so proud of them for that. I know it wasn’t the lifestyle they hoped or wanted for me, but they dealt with it and supported me. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. Even after meeting some of my new friends, my dad never would say a word. It was like everything was as normal as it could be, and he took it to his grave.
Through the years, many things have changed. Times have changed, and the LGBT community has changed and grown. I’ve never changed who I was or have been. I’ve always been the same person. I always will be. I think that is one thing my parents have always been proud of me for. I’ve remained the same person I’ve always been. I was raised that way, so I give all the credit to my parents. Without them, I would not be the person I am today.
I lost my sweet mother on July 12, 2018. I didn’t get to say goodbye and my heart has never been so broken as it is now. Reminiscing during this post has been hard, but I know my mother is proud of me, or I hope she is. There’s not a second that goes by that I don’t think of her.
To this day, coming out has been the best decision I’ve ever made in life thus far. That is the truth. It’s also been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in life thus far. I can’t explain it enough what a difference it made after I decided to be true to myself and family. It turned my life around.
Since coming out of the closet in 1995, I have had good and bad relationships with men. Some lasted hours, some lasted days, and some lasted weeks. There’s been a couple of them to last a few years. I’ve had one-night-stands, I’ve had random sex with friends, strangers, and sex with myself. It’s called life as a gay man trying to find his way in life. A new life I never knew until my burden was lifted. I wouldn’t change a thing. You teach what you want to learn.
If you’re reading this and are going through a similar situation like I was in life, I would tell you that you are in control of being your own person. You are your own boss. You are you and nobody can change that. Knowing what I know now, I would tell you not to live your life in fear and imprisonment. Do not live in denial or spend your life running scared. It’s not worth it.
I want you to take chances and get back up if you fall. There is so much more to life than being afraid. Dream and dream big. You just follow your heart and when the time is right for you, you’ll know it. Everything happens in time and when it’s your time, the sky is the limit. Know your own truth and it will set you free.
A lot has happened over the years. I’ve been with my partner for over 12 years now, we live in Nashville, TN, we have a dog named Skittles, and we just built a new home last year. I’ll fill you in on all the details in stories to come, so I hope you will continue to read my stories and learn more about me.
If I do nothing but inspire at least one person with something I’ve said, then I’ve done my job.
We arrived in Nashville hours later and got checked into our hotel. It was nice and cozy just a few miles from downtown. It was cheaper than staying right in the middle of downtown and we were on a budget. Waffle House was right across the street from our hotel, so I felt right at home. Comfort food was always welcome, and I love Waffle House, even still today.
The first couple of nights in Nashville we just took in some of the sites around town. We played tourist. We went to Opryland USA, took a cruise on the General Jackson and did some shopping. I noticed there were lots of eye-candy around town and we were seeing quite a few other gay folks. It was nice. We had never seen so many gay people in the same town. Back home, they were few and very far between.
We also took in a brand-new drag show that had just opened in Nashville called Cowboy LaCage. They had recently been featured on Donahue, so when I saw the show was in Nashville, I knew we had to go. I had watched this show on Donahue over and over and was totally amazed.
Cowboy LaCage was a drag show for celebrity look-a-likes such as Dolly Parton, Wynonna, Reba McEntire, Bette Midler, Barbra Streisand, Tina Turner and more. I must say, it was the best drag show I have ever seen to this day. They looked exactly like the celebrity they were portraying and were simply phenomenal. Better yet, they were all men! Drag shows usually suck, but looking back at this one, it was at the top of the class. It was amazing.
Cowboy LaCage was a great start, but we knew coming to Nashville that we wanted to go to our very first gay bar while we were in town. Here, nobody would know us or care. We had nothing to hide, to be ashamed of, or afraid of. Deep down, we were scared to death. We were about to walk into a place that we had never ever been in before or knew anything about. It was overwhelming.
We pulled out the phone book from our hotel night stand and flipped through the pages. We had no clue what we were looking for, where to look, or how to find what we were looking for. We started looking in the Yellow Pages to see if we could find some gay clubs. Before we knew it, Alex and I were on our way to Connection Nashville.
This was a trip of firsts. To get to the club, we decided we’d take a taxi. We had never been in a taxi before either. It was easy to get a taxi as our hotel was swarming with them. As we walked out of our hotel, the taxi driver basically met us without us having to call for him. We got some cash together and jumped in.
It was a short ride to the club. Our hearts were about to beat out of our chests as the taxi pulled up to the flashing neon lights. We just sat there staring at each other not knowing if we could go through with it, but we did. That short ride ended up costing us $40, but we didn’t care. As we got out of the taxi, we were suddenly alone as the cab drove off.
We made our way to the front door entrance. Those few steps were only a hop and a skip from where our cab driver had dropped us off, but it felt like it was a mile. We opened the door and paid our way inside. The music was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think, but Alex and I made a mad dash through the smoke-filled bar and sat down.
We ordered a beer to try and relax as we began to look around the club. We had never seen such a variety of people in one place. Being overwhelmed is an understatement. The club had two levels, so we ventured around downstairs for a while before making it upstairs. There were couches to sit on, tables and barstools, pool tables and more. We were lost without a clue, but we just kept going with the flow. The blind was leading the blind.
Alex and I were what they called “new meat” in the gay world. We got lots of stares and winks as we ventured around the club. It was flattering, but scary as hell. Nothing like that had ever happened to us before, so we didn’t know what to do. Basically, we ignored the gestures. We were too scared to acknowledge it.
We finally found a table and ordered another beer. Taking in all the people, the lights, music, and surroundings were fascinating. Still scared, our nerves were slowly calming down. We were suddenly surprised when a strange black man came over to our table and introduced himself.
His name was Yanza. He was older, had long dreadlocks and was tall and slender. As he sat down, he said he could tell we were “newbies.” He was right. For the rest of the evening, Yanza kept us company and took us under his wing. A protector if you will. He talked about the bar scene, life, being gay, and how he overcame family rejection because of him being gay. It was very educational to me just listening to his stories.
He bought us a few drinks and introduced us to some of his friends. I, always the shy one, even danced with Yanza when he asked. Something I would have never done before in a million years. Believe it or not, I enjoyed it.
It was nice to chat with other gay folks and find out we were not alone. Everyone had their stories and thoughts. It was very comforting. It made our terrifying evening of going to our very first gay bar much more enjoyable having others to talk with.
At the end of the night, Alex and I said our goodbyes. We thanked Yanza and his friends for hanging with us and showing us around. He didn’t have to do that, but he spent his evening watching over us and he couldn’t have been nicer. It made our first experience at a gay club a night we’d always remember. To this day, I’ve never seen any of those folks again.
Vacation ended, and it was time to go back home to Arkansas. I continued to keep up my crazy work schedule between my two jobs and put aside my social life. What social life? I didn’t have one and didn’t know where to begin to have one. Even after opening-up and having a great time in Nashville at the gay club around strangers, coming back home pushed everything back into hiding as before.
Being on vacation opened my eyes a little more. I found there were lots of other gay folks out there like me that I had never seen before or knew about. I saw a whole new world out there and I was about to join the living.
Alex eventually quit working at the hospital. We grew apart and didn’t see each other much. Finally, I decided it was time I started to venture out on my own and make new friends. It was scary going alone, but I started going to the gay club in Little Rock, Arkansas. Eventually, I started making friends that I could and only would see at the clubs. I still lived at home, so there was no way I could invite my new gay friends over to visit. I was still living a secret life.
It was nice going to the clubs to hang with my new friends where I could be myself. I had been living a lie for so long, not only to myself, but everyone around me. At first, I didn’t even know how to act around other gay people. It felt good to walk into the club and know that nobody was judging me, looking at me funny, staring, snickering, or wondering if I were gay. I had nothing to hide while I was at the club surrounded by my own community. It was a feeling that I had never had before, and a feeling I had never had alone.
While going to the clubs, I met guys and got to know some of them. Sharing conversations, life struggles, similar experiences, and more. It was nice having other gay guys to talk to for a change. I had never had a relationship at this point, so I was looking to make new friends first and foremost.
A new gal started working with me at the dairy bar. We became fast friends. She was in her 40’s at the time and I was now 21. Oddly enough, we had lots in common. I enjoyed working with her and we laughed a lot, gossiped a lot, and worked a lot.
Over time, I felt close to her. I knew early on that she was one I could talk to. We had talked about homosexuality and other topics during our days of working together, so I knew she knew I was gay. Eventually, I opened-up and told her I was gay. Other than my barber, Alex, and a handful of my secretly kept gay friends, she was the only other person who now knew I was gay. It took me a long time to get up the nerve to tell her. It felt good to know she didn’t judge me or think less of me.
From that moment on, I began to have more confidence in myself as a gay man. Opening up to my co-worker gave me thoughts about wanting to open up to my parents at home and tell them I was gay. I just couldn’t. How could I? What would my parents think? Would they hate me? How would they react? What would they say? Would they disown me? How would I tell them?
It was something I never dreamed up to that point I would ever do. I had talked to my co-worker about it over and over and she always gave me advice and words of encouragement. As a mother, she said she would always want her children to tell her if they were gay and how she would love them anyway and support them. I only hoped that would be my case when I decided to come out to my mom and dad. I was scared to death every time I thought about it. I knew the day was coming it was going to happen, but I wasn’t ready yet.
I did know, that when the day came, I would tell my mom first. She and I had always been extremely close my entire life. And as before, my mom had continued to ask me from time to time if I were gay. And as before, I always said no. I always figured my mom knew in her heart that I was gay, but I would never admit it. I just couldn’t no matter how much I wanted to.
My dad never asked me anything. I didn’t want to hurt my parents in any way, disappoint them, or make them think less of me. That was never my intentions at all. I always wanted to make them happy and to be proud of me.
After many prayers and after keeping my secret to myself all these years, I finally decided it was time to come out to my parents. I knew eventually there was going to come a point where I couldn’t take it any longer. I couldn’t continue to live a lie to myself and everyone around me. I couldn’t keep hiding my feelings. I couldn’t continue to hide in fear. I had to free myself of this burden that was eating away at my soul or I was never going to be able to live my own life for myself. A life without being afraid. A life spent living in the closet not being true to myself. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.
I made a promise to myself. The next time my mom asked me if I were gay, I was going to tell her and finally tell the truth. It was easy to say this to myself. Not out loud. The more I thought about it, the more frightening it was. I couldn’t sleep at night, I couldn’t think straight, and I couldn’t focus on anything. I got cold chills, sweats, nervous, scared, and sick to my stomach.
It was a horrible feeling. A feeling I wouldn’t wish on any other LGBT person who may be fighting the same truth. I knew that if I were going through this torture that there were millions of others who were as well. I just wish I had had another gay person to talk to about this during that time. Just one. I had nobody. Not even my “gay” friends could help me. It was something I had to do on my own. It was the most gut-wrenching time of my life up to that point. I was alone.
Weeks passed, and I was on edge. Always wondering when the moment was going to arise. When was I going to be asked again? I worried about it 24/7. It wasn’t good for my health, my mind, or my body. I was tired all the time from my lack of sleeping at night and my work schedule between both jobs was starting to take a toll. I had no time for anything. Just work and home. Work and home. I felt like everything was starting to crumble around me.
I had even been talking to myself about this. Asking myself the dreadful question of, “Are you gay?” I couldn’t even answer myself, so how was I going to be honest with my mom if, and when, she asked me again? I told myself I wasn’t going to do it. I would just keep it to myself forever. I would just continue to live a lie, but something inside me would not let me rest. I kept coming back to myself and reassuring my mind that coming out was the right thing to do. It was time to be me. Time to tell the truth. Time to live.
Finally, in 1995 the moment of truth came. Mom and I were watching a movie one night after dad had gone to bed. Something was in the air. I could feel it. I could sense this was going to be the night. I just knew. My heart was racing as I rehearsed my words in my head. I felt sick. I felt numb. I felt like dying.
During the movie, mom finally said, “Lee, can I ask you a question?” My heart sank, and I felt like I was being choked and the life was draining out of me. I swallowed hard and said, “sure.” She asked me the dreadful question that I had been waiting on and had prepared myself for this time. “Are you gay?” A thousand things ran through my mind before I got my thoughts together. From the time she asked me until I answered was only a few seconds, but it seemed like hours.
Finally, I closed my eyes and said to myself before I spoke, “Dear Lord, please give me strength.” Then without thinking, I said to my mom, “What if I am?” We stared at each other for a moment before she said, “Well, are you?” My heart was about to beat out of my chest. I went on to admit, “Yes. I am gay.” I did it. I said it out loud. It didn’t seem real.
That moment changed my life in an instant. I immediately felt like a ton of weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt my body and my mind instantly relax. I felt calm. I felt at ease. I felt like I had just been given life for the first time in 21 years. I felt alive. I finally was able to spill my feelings out loud for the very first time. The feeling I felt is almost unexplainable unless you’ve been in that situation. It was the most amazing feeling ever. Thinking about it now, I can feel it all over again. It gives me chills.
I couldn’t believe I had finally admitted to my mom that I was gay. She took it hard and began to cry. So, did I. We held each other and hugged each other. She went on to say, “I had no idea, but deep down I had thought you might be gay.” Then she began to blame herself and say that it must have been her fault that I was gay. Of course, that was not true. I was gay, and nobody was at fault.
We spent the rest of the evening talking. Lots of questions were asked and I tried to explain it all to my mom the best I could. My thoughts. My feelings. It was hard, and she was hurt. Most any parent would be. As we talked, I opened-up even more and we cried on each other’s shoulders. I knew everything was going to be okay when my mom said, “I don’t understand, but I still love you more than anything.” Those were the words I was waiting to hear. The words I had hoped to hear.
The next day my mom went to visit her family and told them the news. Some were shocked, and some were not totally surprised. As days passed, it was a little awkward at times talking to mom about all of this. I wasn’t used to being able to talk about my feelings. I had kept them secret my entire life. So, talking about it just seemed weird in the beginning, but that was just part of the aftermath.
As far as my dad, mom didn’t tell him for a few weeks afterwards. She said he was shocked and blamed himself, which it wasn’t his fault either. Nobody was to blame.
Dad took it hard also. Shortly after mom told him, he left home to go to the farm where he worked a second job. He was gone for hours and hours and we hadn’t heard from him. When mom went to check on him, she found him asleep in his truck with a gun across his lap. He felt he was to blame and was going to kill himself. Luckily, he fell asleep instead and he didn’t harm himself. Of course, I felt horrible that both my parents were blaming themselves. It wasn’t their fault and blaming themselves was a natural-instinct as parents. I guess most parents go through that if they are faced with this same ordeal.
As days and weeks passed, mom and I continued to talk about my being gay. It got easier and easier to talk to her about it. She didn’t like the fact, or understand it, but over time she accepted it and it became easier to handle as time went on. I know it wasn’t easy for her. I never expected it to be, but she never turned her back on me and neither did my dad. Mom and I were already close, and it brought us even closer after my coming out. If that were even possible. We are as close as ever still today. She’s been there for me my entire life.
I had expected distance to come between us afterwards, but it was just the opposite. We were closer. Nothing changed. Dad never once asked me anything about it and it was almost like he didn’t even know. Nothing changed with him either. I think it brought us closer together as well. He just chose not to talk about it and that was fine. I knew when he was ready to talk to me about it he would. Almost 20 years passed, and that day never came. My dad died on November 21, 2013 and the subject was never talked about between us.
After coming out in 1995, my life changed for the better. My mom had been retired and my dad finally was able to retire from his job. They moved to the Ozark Mountains in North Arkansas. I quit both of my jobs and moved as well. I got a new job and my very first apartment about an hour away from my parents. I was finally free to live my own life and be true to myself. I was never and have never been one to flaunt being gay. It is what it is. It’s what I am. I don’t advertise it, but I don’t hide it either. I did that too long and I won’t do it again.
In 1996, I eventually met my first love, but not at the club. It was a singles column in a newspaper. That’s right. It was basically like a pen-pal. Remember those days? Anyway, he was also from Arkansas, but a few hours away. We had never met at this point and were just keeping in touch by mail back in those days trying to get to know each other.
Shortly after, he tells me he’s moving to St. Louis to live with his aunt for a while, so that meant we were going to be farther away. After a few weeks, I decided I would drive up to St. Louis to meet him for the first time.
I was nervous. We had swapped photos through mail, so we both knew what each other looked like. Or supposed to look like. He was tall, dark hair, slim, and I found him very attractive. When I arrived, he was sitting outside waiting on me. My heart was beating so hard as I walked towards him. When we saw each other, we smiled from ear to ear. It was love at first site as we met and introduced ourselves in person for the first time. I could tell he was nervous, but after a few minutes, it was like we had known each other for years.
His aunt lived in a condo and as we got into the elevator for him to take me up to meet her, he hugged me and then kissed me. I was shocked and surprised he kissed me already. I wanted to kiss him but held back. Instead, he beat me to it. That was my first kiss. We had no idea what we were doing. It was a whole new experience for us both.
His aunt was very nice. I liked her right away. Unlike my situation, his aunt knew he was gay, and she was cool with it. That’s why he went to live with her, so he could be himself unlike living at home.
His aunt had money, so she ended up making us a hotel reservation at a local hotel. As she put it, “I want the two of you to spend some time alone and get to know each other without me being in the way here at home.” I didn’t know what to say except, “Thank you.” What do you say to something like that? She gave him her credit card and said, “Have fun.”
The hotel was very nice. We had room service and all the trimmings. I didn’t have to pay for anything. Over the next few days we went shopping, went to movies, out to eat and just hung around the hotel. We went to the St. Louis Arch, the Zoo, and more. It was lots of fun.
Okay, okay, I know what you’re wanting to know. Did we have sex? Of course, we did! We were both in virgin land, but something between us didn’t feel that way. It came totally natural for both of us and the sex was great! I’ll admit, he had a nice big cock also and he knew how to use it. We learned together, but it didn’t feel like learning. It felt like we had always had great sex even though it was a first for both of us. Let’s just say after that first visit, I went home no longer a virgin.
It was short lived. We fell in love. After another couple of trips to see him and one trip of him coming to see me, lots more hot sex and hotel rooms (all paid for by his aunt), after six months the relationship ended. After he came to see me, he boarded the plane to go home and I never heard from him again. That’s right. I got nothing. No breakup, no goodbye, no reasoning, absolutely nothing.
I didn’t even know if he made it home safely. I called and called over a period-of-time and got no response. I eventually stopped calling. Finally, after a couple of months, his aunt called me back to explain what happened. She told me that he was supposed to have broken up with me when he came to visit because he was moving back home. Instead, when he returned to St. Louis, he told her he did break up with me, but he didn’t. That’s why she didn’t answer the phone at the times I would call because she thought I was upset. I was, but that’s not what I was upset over. She had no idea that he just left me hanging with no explanation.
She apologized, and we talked for a long time. I made sure to thank her for all she did for us during my visits. She was very nice to me, but I was heartbroken. I think she was too because she really liked me and thought we were great together. To this day, I still don’t understand why he wanted to break up with me just because he was moving home. Home was closer than St. Louis. I lived in Arkansas and he was moving back to Arkansas. We would have only been three hours away then instead of six. It made no sense. I never heard from his aunt again after that. You never forget your first love, but I have never heard from nor seen him since 1996.
Life moved on and my broken heart took time to heal. It only made me stronger and was a learning experience as well. Take my advice, long-distance relationships are not good for the soul. Even though I fell in love and enjoyed it while it lasted, it wasn’t worth the heartbreak in the end.
Even during heartache, for the first time ever, I was able to live my life for myself and be open to new adventures. I started to meet other gay people, have new relationships, new heartaches, and live life. Something I had never been able to do before living in denial. It felt great. I felt like a whole new person. Better yet, I was finally able to share my thoughts and feelings with my mom.
My parents met several of my new gay friends over the years as well as a few boyfriends. They were always accepting with open arms. I was so proud of them for that. I know it wasn’t the lifestyle they hoped or wanted for me, but they dealt with it and supported me. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. Even after meeting some of my new friends, my dad never would say a word. It was like everything was as normal as it could be, and he took it to his grave.
Through the years, many things have changed. Times have changed, and the LGBT community has changed and grown. I’ve never changed who I was or have been. I’ve always been the same person. I always will be. I think that is one thing my parents have always been proud of me for. I’ve remained the same person I’ve always been. I was raised that way, so I give all the credit to my parents. Without them, I would not be the person I am today.
I lost my sweet mother on July 12, 2018. I didn’t get to say goodbye and my heart has never been so broken as it is now. Reminiscing during this post has been hard, but I know my mother is proud of me, or I hope she is. There’s not a second that goes by that I don’t think of her.
To this day, coming out has been the best decision I’ve ever made in life thus far. That is the truth. It’s also been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in life thus far. I can’t explain it enough what a difference it made after I decided to be true to myself and family. It turned my life around.
Since coming out of the closet in 1995, I have had good and bad relationships with men. Some lasted hours, some lasted days, and some lasted weeks. There’s been a couple of them to last a few years. I’ve had one-night-stands, I’ve had random sex with friends, strangers, and sex with myself. It’s called life as a gay man trying to find his way in life. A new life I never knew until my burden was lifted. I wouldn’t change a thing. You teach what you want to learn.
If you’re reading this and are going through a similar situation like I was in life, I would tell you that you are in control of being your own person. You are your own boss. You are you and nobody can change that. Knowing what I know now, I would tell you not to live your life in fear and imprisonment. Do not live in denial or spend your life running scared. It’s not worth it.
I want you to take chances and get back up if you fall. There is so much more to life than being afraid. Dream and dream big. You just follow your heart and when the time is right for you, you’ll know it. Everything happens in time and when it’s your time, the sky is the limit. Know your own truth and it will set you free.
A lot has happened over the years. I’ve been with my partner for over 12 years now, we live in Nashville, TN, we have a dog named Skittles, and we just built a new home last year. I’ll fill you in on all the details in stories to come, so I hope you will continue to read my stories and learn more about me.
If I do nothing but inspire at least one person with something I’ve said, then I’ve done my job.