Mikey
The Best Years Came After the Closet.
I came out of the closet at 33 and it wasn't because I didn't know earlier, but because I spent decades learning how to live the shell that society handed me. I tried wearing all the right shoes, saying the right things, tried to fit into a mold, To an outsider, I was fitting in just nicely. However, on the inside, I was a well-dressed ghost.
I didn't have any explosive coming out moment. No rainbow confetti or social media announcement. I told my mom over a cup of coffee. My hands were shaking and I was nervous. She didn't yell, cry or even be disappointed. She said, "I always want you to be happy and I want you to be who you are." In that moment, I felt the cracked door open.
Coming out at 33 could be seen as strange. You're not the fabulous teenager in the blockbuster movie with rainbow confetti and a prom to go to with your attractive boyfriend. You're the one trying to figure out how Tinder works all the while googling where the nearest gay bar is located?
All joking aside, here's the thing. In my opinion, no one gets to tell you the right time. To me, coming out late doesn't mean you're behind. It means you're right on time and on your time. I reconnected with myself and I started therapy. I danced for the first time without worrying about how I looked. I made new friends who knew the real me from the get-go, not a version I curated to be safe.
I haven't found love just yet but I know it'll be with a man who laughs at my wild jokes and cries alongside me the first time we kiss in public. Coming out didn't erase the years I spent pretending. However, it gave those years context and make the years ahead so bright. Now, I show up fully at work, with my friends and outside my home. Just always remember: no matter what happens, you're awesome just the way you are and it's never too late to become the person you were always meant to be.
