Ever since I was a little boy I knew I was gay. Being attracted to other boys at school felt like the most normal thing in the world to me, but I always knew it was something that had to be kept a secret, that my family wouldn’t understand.
My parents were strict Christians. And while I knew they loved me, the Bible and its rules always came first. Even at a young age I knew I was a “sinner” for feeling the way I did.
Throughout my teenage years it was pretty easy to keep my sexuality a secret from my parents. Being Christians, they didn’t want me dating girls until I was ready for marriage. I was a shy kid, so I didn’t get much attention from girls anyway. It wasn’t until I went to university that things started to change.
When I first moved to the city to enrol in uni, I felt like I’d discovered a whole new world. Within a few weeks I’d moved into a typical student share house, full of artistic, fun, experimental kids who loved to party. But it was Amanda who I hit it off with the best. She was the first person in my life who actually “got” me and it wasn’t long before I told her my big secret. She didn’t even bat an eyelid, she just hugged me and told me she was proud. I felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Not long after that I met my first boyfriend. Looking back, I can see that Sean was self-absorbed and shallow, but as far as I was concerned at the time, he was my true love. So I started coming out to my friends. I even told some of my old school friends back home and I got nothing but support and encouragement from everyone I told.
Convinced that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Sean, I decided it was time to tell my family. Everybody else had been so supportive, I was sure my parents would at least accept my sexuality, even if they couldn’t be happy about it. I was wrong.
I came out to my parents during a trip home for my mother’s birthday. Mum couldn’t look me in the eye and couldn’t stop crying. Dad yelled at me for ruining mum’s special day and then kicked me out of the house. They never actually said they didn’t want to see me again, but that’s what I assumed they meant.
When I got back to my house in the city, Sean was there to greet me. I was so relieved to see him until I saw the look on his face. He told me he wanted to end the relationship. He’d never meant for things to get so serious with me. He was young and just wanted to play the field. I was crushed. I’d lost my parents’ love and my boyfriend’s love all in the space of one day.
The one person who was there for me was Amanda. That night, we hit the pub hard. And after that we hit the clubs. At 4am we finally stumbled home, falling into her bed together for one of our usual late night chat sessions. But that night was different. I don’t know how it happened but suddenly we were kissing, then we were touching, then one thing led to another and I was doing something I never imagined I could ever do — I was having sex with a girl.
The next day we pretty much laughed it off. How drunk and crazy we’d been! It didn’t change a thing between us and I loved Amanda for that.
I moped around feeling sorry for myself for a few more weeks before I fell for a new guy and suddenly Sean was ancient history. Things fizzled out with the new guy and I moved onto another, then another.
I was having a great time on the dating scene when a little later down the track, Amanda knocked on my bedroom door with a brown paper bag in her hand. Inside it was a pregnancy test. She took the test while I waited outside the toilet door, just as any girl’s best friend would. The only difference was, her best friend was also the father.
Our son Felix was born during our second year at uni. Amanda had to move back home but she never told her parents who the father was. And I never told my parents a thing — I hadn’t spoken to them since that awful fight the year before.
I wasn’t going to leave Amanda in the lurch. While she dropped out of uni to raise the baby, I dropped out and got a full time job as a waiter. Difficult as the situation was, I was ecstatic to be a dad and I knew I had a responsibility to provide for my son. Every month I gave Amanda and the baby as much as I could from my measly salary.
Eventually, Amanda moved in with a guy who treated Felix like a son. I met a guy too — my first and only long term boyfriend. I watched from a distance as my son grew up, started walking, talking and went off to school. By the time he was six, I barely saw him anymore. He had a “dad” and didn’t need me. I just deposited the money in his mum’s account. I knew Amanda was doing OK.
I finally patched things up with my parents. I’d taken their anger all those years ago to mean they never wanted to see me again, but in fact they’d missed me terribly. With time they learnt to accept my lifestyle and they even met my partner, Tim, a few times before we broke up last year.
It was not long after the break up that Amanda got in touch with me asking if I’d be willing to visit our son. Her partner had walked out on them and Felix, who was 10 by this stage, was asking questions about his real dad. I was only too happy to be back in my son’s life.
What started as weekend visits soon became daily, and before long, Felix and I had formed a real father-son bond. Amanda and I grew close again too, closer than before, even. One night after we’d put our son to bed, Amanda and I found ourselves back in a familiar situation. But this time there was no alcohol involved, we were perfectly sober and we knew exactly what we were doing, we knew this felt right.
It’s been over a year now since Amanda and I became an “item”. But while I was so quick to come out of the closet and tell the whole world I was gay, I’ve hardly told a soul that I’ve turned straight now. I know my gay friends would have trouble accepting it, as if I’ve betrayed them in some way. And I know it would destroy my parents. How can I tell them they have a grandchild they’ve never met, born out of wedlock to their gay son, who, by the way, is about to become a father again in a few months time?
For now, I just don’t have the guts to tell them. As far as they know I’m their single gay son who lives alone in an apartment in the city. I only hope that one day I can figure out a way to explain this whole thing to them, and to my friends. And that this time my “coming out” will cause me less heartache than it did the first time around.
Names in this story have been changed. Picture: Getty Images.
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