COCK BLOG OF THE DAY: How I Told Them

I'm The Only Gay Eskimo In My Tribe

Your mother knows.

Let's get that out of the way.

Unless she's crazy or Joan Crawford, your mother already knows you're gay, bi, a woman inside, what have you. Your dad probably doesn't, your sister probably does (your brother might know but may pretend not to know).

I haven't come out to my mother the way someone comes out in an after school special, I have a lot in common with the gay community, but I lack a sense of melodrama.

I love my mother more than anything, but I'm a selfish child, and have grown up an only child in a huge family, meaning I got so much attention when I was a kid that I enjoy my privacy now. I keep things from my mother because I was constantly getting in trouble, and she knew it, and she would press me to find out what I was up to, and I'd shrug and say, "nothing." I faked an illness in order to get out of school when I was around 9, I never told her I had faked it.

She knew.

She stopped asking me about girls when I was 16, and started to encourage my unhealthy obsession with David Bowie circa 1973 (his androgynous alien phase, followed thereafter by his cocaine king phase).

The reason I never formally told my mother I was gay is that I didn't have a boyfriend. I had hooked up when I was 18, but it had just been sex, and I hated talking to my mother about sex (hers, mine, homo, or hetero), the closest I came to a boyfriend was a boy who lived in San Francisco, and I lived in Los Angeles. He was in the same boat as me, didn't tell his mom, but his mom had once asked him, "how are you holding up? Got any new girlfriends....boyfriends?"

My friends all knew, my best straight friend in LA found out through my blog, he left a supportive comment saying he always suspected, and that nothing would change between us, I told him to shut up with his Oprah sympathetic bullshit. Nothing has changed between us.

My advice; be honest over being self-righteous, be respectful when necessary, but also know when to tell someone to fuck off. And also, be thankful your family has raised such an outstanding child, unless you and your family are all violent rednecks....then maybe you should run away or something.

Kevin J.
New York, NY