When I came out, my aunt simply told me, “I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday.”
When I came out, my father told me he loved me, but we were not going to speak about this ever again. Oh, and don’t tell my mother, she wouldn’t understand. Low and behold, years later, after marrying a woman with quite a lot of gay friends and a gay daughter, let’s say Dad has surrounded himself with gay men and lesbians… but doesn’t want me to tell my brother about this, he wouldn’t understand.
When I came out my dad asked, “Well, is it something you can change?” When I said no, he said, “Well, then I will have to learn to live with it. You know I love you though, right?” And I did.
When I came out, my dad topped it by coming out right back. Awkward.
When I came out, my father said, “I love you very much, you’re my son.” Now, he calls my partner his son, too.
When I came out, my older sister used it as a platform to tell our parents about her cocaine addiction.
When I came out to my best friend, he was nothing short of supportive. He told me I was making much more of a deal out of it than it was and that, at the end of the day, we were still bros.
When I came out, it was the only time in my life I actually saw my father cry.
When I came out, my dad tried to hook me up with the gay community by identifying the only two gay people he’s ever met!
When I came out, I ended up being disowned by half of my family, but I stayed strong, and after two years, I am now helping others in my situation.