Coming Out
by Eddie Marshall
I always played with Barbie dolls as a child, and when I got into superheroes, I preferred Wonder Woman. My mom supported this. My mom spent every waking moment with me; I was home schooled up until third grade, so she and I developed an extremely close bond. I was able to like whatever I wanted and was never really pushed to like something by my parents. They always told me “It’s okay to be gay,” a good policy in any household, that’s for sure, but even then, society had a way of making it feel a tad wrong.
Nonetheless, I kept certain thoughts to myself. When my dad used to take boxing classes, I would go with him and watch, and I would see some of the college boys who took the class and think, “Wow they are hot,” but I never told anyone. I never really knew why I kept these thoughts to myself; I knew my parents were fine with anything I chose.
It could have been my grandmother. She came from a family who cared a lot about money and judged people who didn't share the same mindset as them. They would always frown upon me playing with Barbie dolls and would give my mom a lot of shit for it, which she did not deserve. My grandmother would try to tell me that “Only girls play with Barbie dolls, and if you play with Barbie dolls, you will become gay.” Mind you, this specific event took place when I was about four. My parents found out and my dad had this long talk with my grandmother and she never mentioned it to me again. Having her judgment looming over me throughout my younger years, however, made me suppress my true feelings and hide them away from the rest of the world.
When I was about eight or so, the fourth Harry Potter movie came out, and I remember having such a huge crush on Cedric Diggory. I thought he was so attractive, and that really made me think of who I was as a person. I remember saying to myself, “If I’m gay, I just won’t tell anyone and I will marry a girl and just live with it!” It really made me upset to think about that because I knew I would be unhappy if I went through with that plan, and I also knew if I didn’t, my dad’s side of the family would be upset with me. It was a tricky situation for a kid, so I did as I always did, and bottled it up.
I went to St. Mary’s in Beverly for middle school, an odd choice because of the Catholic Church’s views on gay people. I met some friends there, and I also met a lot of bullies. The eighth-grade boys enjoyed making rude jokes to me at lunch and in the hallways, but my friends always made me feel better afterwards. One night, a friend from class won this “Dinner with a Teacher” prize, and she got to pick four friends to accompany her. Our Spanish teacher was a nice woman who was in her early sixties and was very happy to be out to eat with us. The conversation over dinner jumped around quite a bit, and during the leaps from topic to topic, comments made by the eighth grade boys who bullied me came up, and our Spanish teacher caught wind of it and seemed very upset. The next day at school those boys got severely punished and it felt like such a justice to me, but still not enough for me to come out to the world as to who I really was.
Once I entered high school, I started to really think about my sexuality, and all the comments people made in middle school. I always thought that people expected me to be heterosexual. There were times when I would be having deep conversations with my best friends and feel the need to say something, tell them that I was gay; it was on the tip of my tongue. However every time I tried, the words wouldn’t leave my mouth, and I’d just say “I’ll tell you some other time.” That was becoming my life motto, and I hated it. As the months went on and freshman year came to a close I knew who I was but I was far too scared to say anything to anyone. That summer I reflected a lot on my personality and how socially clueless I was. My over the top, reckless, personality was just a smoke show for the truth.
Sophomore year started, and I was head over heels for this boy whom I had only seen in the hallways and on Facebook, but never really talked to before; I was far too scared. Any excuse to bring him up to my group of friends that didn't go to my school, I would. At the end of September, the Topsfield Fair came around and my friends and I decided to go. We got there, and that boy was in front of us in line. My heart was racing; blood was pumping. I could have sworn it was a dream—it was such a perfect coincidence. As we were standing in line I couldn't help but look over at him. Then he asked my group of friends if we wanted to go in front of him and his friends because they were still waiting on someone, and we said yes. As we were walking to go in front, he stopped me and asked “Don’t you go to my school?” I was screaming at the top of my lungs internally, and on the outside I was a complete stuttering mess, I managed to say “Yes” and then walk away before my face turned red. When we got home from the fair I was on cloud nine. This made me realize even more that there was no doubt about my sexuality: I was for sure 100% gay.
By the time Thanksgiving came around, I needed to tell someone, and I finally had the courage. I went on a long walk with my best friend at the time and I told her I needed to tell her something about myself. She was concerned at first, and I told her to guess at it so I didn’t have to say it. I told her that whatever she said wouldn't offend me, and she guessed it right off the bat. She was so happy and gave me a hug. I then told a small circle of friends I had, and they were all accepting. My biggest fear was how my straight male friends would react. I thought they would feel awkward with me. All these irrational fears I had slowly melted away as the months passed by.
Around the end of second quarter, I was failing History. I knew when I brought home my report card I would have to do something to divert my parents from the F. And that’s when I decided I would tell them I was gay. When I handed my mother my report card, she immediately gave me the typical disappointed parent stare. I quickly said I needed to talk to her about something that wasn’t school related and all of a sudden I started to choke up and my eyes start to water. As we walked into the kitchen and I sat down, I couldn’t contain my emotions anymore, and I burst into tears. It took me a good five minutes to collect myself, collect my thoughts, and get the words out of my mouth, but once I said it I heard the most comforting words I have ever heard: “I always knew,” followed by a long hug. For some reason her saying that took away all the fears I had in my head, and it all melted away, and it was just me, my mom, and our incredibly strong bond, and I knew she was there for me and always would be, because she finally got to meet the real me.
Fast forward to the first day of spring, March 21, 2014, only my parents and a small circle of friends had been told. I was walking down a hallway in school, where I saw two girls who were acquaintances, and they asked if I had a girlfriend, not because they were interested in me, but because it was speculated that I was gay. I replied to them with “No, obviously.” When I kept walking I had this feeling of being done with hiding; it was tiresome having to tell the same lies to the world day after day when I already knew who I was. When I got home, I told my mom I was going to post it on Facebook, and I did. The post got over one hundred likes and so many supporting comments, and that was what I needed to feel 100% comfortable in my own skin.
Later that week my grandmother called my mom and asked to speak to me; she had obviously heard the news. She said, “Your grandfather and I hope this is just a phase, but we still love you. People change so much growing up, so keep and open mind.” I just went along with it. When I hung up, I didn’t really care what she thought, because for the first time in my life, I was me, and everyone knew I was me, and I loved being me, and no middle school bullies, grandmother, stranger or classmate, was going to change that!
Eddie Marshall is a business student enrolled at North Shore Community College in Danvers, Massachusetts. His interests include art, be it painting or just pencil sketches, also hiking.
by Eddie Marshall
I always played with Barbie dolls as a child, and when I got into superheroes, I preferred Wonder Woman. My mom supported this. My mom spent every waking moment with me; I was home schooled up until third grade, so she and I developed an extremely close bond. I was able to like whatever I wanted and was never really pushed to like something by my parents. They always told me “It’s okay to be gay,” a good policy in any household, that’s for sure, but even then, society had a way of making it feel a tad wrong.
Nonetheless, I kept certain thoughts to myself. When my dad used to take boxing classes, I would go with him and watch, and I would see some of the college boys who took the class and think, “Wow they are hot,” but I never told anyone. I never really knew why I kept these thoughts to myself; I knew my parents were fine with anything I chose.
It could have been my grandmother. She came from a family who cared a lot about money and judged people who didn't share the same mindset as them. They would always frown upon me playing with Barbie dolls and would give my mom a lot of shit for it, which she did not deserve. My grandmother would try to tell me that “Only girls play with Barbie dolls, and if you play with Barbie dolls, you will become gay.” Mind you, this specific event took place when I was about four. My parents found out and my dad had this long talk with my grandmother and she never mentioned it to me again. Having her judgment looming over me throughout my younger years, however, made me suppress my true feelings and hide them away from the rest of the world.
When I was about eight or so, the fourth Harry Potter movie came out, and I remember having such a huge crush on Cedric Diggory. I thought he was so attractive, and that really made me think of who I was as a person. I remember saying to myself, “If I’m gay, I just won’t tell anyone and I will marry a girl and just live with it!” It really made me upset to think about that because I knew I would be unhappy if I went through with that plan, and I also knew if I didn’t, my dad’s side of the family would be upset with me. It was a tricky situation for a kid, so I did as I always did, and bottled it up.
I went to St. Mary’s in Beverly for middle school, an odd choice because of the Catholic Church’s views on gay people. I met some friends there, and I also met a lot of bullies. The eighth-grade boys enjoyed making rude jokes to me at lunch and in the hallways, but my friends always made me feel better afterwards. One night, a friend from class won this “Dinner with a Teacher” prize, and she got to pick four friends to accompany her. Our Spanish teacher was a nice woman who was in her early sixties and was very happy to be out to eat with us. The conversation over dinner jumped around quite a bit, and during the leaps from topic to topic, comments made by the eighth grade boys who bullied me came up, and our Spanish teacher caught wind of it and seemed very upset. The next day at school those boys got severely punished and it felt like such a justice to me, but still not enough for me to come out to the world as to who I really was.
Once I entered high school, I started to really think about my sexuality, and all the comments people made in middle school. I always thought that people expected me to be heterosexual. There were times when I would be having deep conversations with my best friends and feel the need to say something, tell them that I was gay; it was on the tip of my tongue. However every time I tried, the words wouldn’t leave my mouth, and I’d just say “I’ll tell you some other time.” That was becoming my life motto, and I hated it. As the months went on and freshman year came to a close I knew who I was but I was far too scared to say anything to anyone. That summer I reflected a lot on my personality and how socially clueless I was. My over the top, reckless, personality was just a smoke show for the truth.
Sophomore year started, and I was head over heels for this boy whom I had only seen in the hallways and on Facebook, but never really talked to before; I was far too scared. Any excuse to bring him up to my group of friends that didn't go to my school, I would. At the end of September, the Topsfield Fair came around and my friends and I decided to go. We got there, and that boy was in front of us in line. My heart was racing; blood was pumping. I could have sworn it was a dream—it was such a perfect coincidence. As we were standing in line I couldn't help but look over at him. Then he asked my group of friends if we wanted to go in front of him and his friends because they were still waiting on someone, and we said yes. As we were walking to go in front, he stopped me and asked “Don’t you go to my school?” I was screaming at the top of my lungs internally, and on the outside I was a complete stuttering mess, I managed to say “Yes” and then walk away before my face turned red. When we got home from the fair I was on cloud nine. This made me realize even more that there was no doubt about my sexuality: I was for sure 100% gay.
By the time Thanksgiving came around, I needed to tell someone, and I finally had the courage. I went on a long walk with my best friend at the time and I told her I needed to tell her something about myself. She was concerned at first, and I told her to guess at it so I didn’t have to say it. I told her that whatever she said wouldn't offend me, and she guessed it right off the bat. She was so happy and gave me a hug. I then told a small circle of friends I had, and they were all accepting. My biggest fear was how my straight male friends would react. I thought they would feel awkward with me. All these irrational fears I had slowly melted away as the months passed by.
Around the end of second quarter, I was failing History. I knew when I brought home my report card I would have to do something to divert my parents from the F. And that’s when I decided I would tell them I was gay. When I handed my mother my report card, she immediately gave me the typical disappointed parent stare. I quickly said I needed to talk to her about something that wasn’t school related and all of a sudden I started to choke up and my eyes start to water. As we walked into the kitchen and I sat down, I couldn’t contain my emotions anymore, and I burst into tears. It took me a good five minutes to collect myself, collect my thoughts, and get the words out of my mouth, but once I said it I heard the most comforting words I have ever heard: “I always knew,” followed by a long hug. For some reason her saying that took away all the fears I had in my head, and it all melted away, and it was just me, my mom, and our incredibly strong bond, and I knew she was there for me and always would be, because she finally got to meet the real me.
Fast forward to the first day of spring, March 21, 2014, only my parents and a small circle of friends had been told. I was walking down a hallway in school, where I saw two girls who were acquaintances, and they asked if I had a girlfriend, not because they were interested in me, but because it was speculated that I was gay. I replied to them with “No, obviously.” When I kept walking I had this feeling of being done with hiding; it was tiresome having to tell the same lies to the world day after day when I already knew who I was. When I got home, I told my mom I was going to post it on Facebook, and I did. The post got over one hundred likes and so many supporting comments, and that was what I needed to feel 100% comfortable in my own skin.
Later that week my grandmother called my mom and asked to speak to me; she had obviously heard the news. She said, “Your grandfather and I hope this is just a phase, but we still love you. People change so much growing up, so keep and open mind.” I just went along with it. When I hung up, I didn’t really care what she thought, because for the first time in my life, I was me, and everyone knew I was me, and I loved being me, and no middle school bullies, grandmother, stranger or classmate, was going to change that!
Eddie Marshall is a business student enrolled at North Shore Community College in Danvers, Massachusetts. His interests include art, be it painting or just pencil sketches, also hiking.