I share my coming out story in the hopes that it might help others to deal with their feelings and questions. I’m lucky to have a coming out experience filled only with love and support from my family and friends — my love and thanks to each of you. You may also be interested in the story of how Michael and I met.
I suppose in retrospect, I should have always known I’m gay. If I look hard enough, I can recognize some of the signs in high school, grade school, and even my early childhood. But regardless, I denied any feelings and questions about my sexuality and repressed them, because I had the impression that those kinds of thoughts were wrong. That impression didn’t come from my family, though — they never made any direct remarks about homosexuality one way or the other. But as a boy growing up in North Dakota, there were always plenty of subtle cues that society didn’t care much for queers. Homosexuals were often the targets of many adolescent jokes.
As much as I tried to deny it, I knew that I was attracted — physically and emotionally — to persons of my own sex. So while the other guys in high school drooled over the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated, I checked out the well-dressed men of GQ and the hunky bodies in Men’s Fitness. And when I finally turned 18, I was like a kid in a candy shop at the local adult bookstore — it was the first time I’d ever seen Mandate or other male porn magazines. The first few times I’d always buy a “straight” magazine along with a few gay ones. The lady would look at me funny, then give me my purchase in a plain brown paper bag. Within a few months I finally found the courage to forget about the extra straight magazine, and I didn’t get any more funny looks.
Throughout high school and my first year of college, I was completely in the closet without even admitting that there was a closet to be in. I even “went steady” with a couple girls in high school. In both cases, as the girl started getting more serious about me, something clicked and I had to get out of the relationship. I knew I didn’t want to be physical with the opposite sex. My hormones told me I wanted to be physical with the same sex, and I found ways to do so. But after fooling around, I’d always feel terribly ashamed and empty. I always promised myself to never do it again, but my hormones never cared much about those promises.
After high school I enrolled in a local university, mostly because it offered me a full scholarship and it was hard to justify turning it down. My Freshman year there was rather uneventful, but thanks to my Computer Science classes I discovered online chat rooms (MUDs and Mucks back then) where I developed an online identity to explore what it might be like to be gay. I also heard about the Ten Percent Society on campus, and I wanted to go — as a supportive “straight” person — but I never had enough courage to do so. After my Freshman year, my scholarship ended (at least that’s what I told everyone; technically I could have renewed it) and my mom invited me to live with her in California. I had been wanting to move to the Golden State for so long, and it was finally my chance to do it! In the fall of 1992, I packed everything I had into my little car and drove across the country.
But even after I moved to California, I was still confused and in denial about my sexuality. I saw how gay people are ostracized and ridiculed, and I didn’t want that. Part of me thought that if I could be with a woman, then everything would fall into place and I’d be over my attraction to men. So in one of the more foolish and irresponsible events of my life, I flew to South Dakota to meet a girl with whom I’d become close friends online. To make a long story short, we did end up having sex, and I realized that I simply wasn’t meant to be heterosexual. The emotional love and physical excitement just wasn’t there. The experience certainly made everything fall into place, but just not like I had thought it would.
So, I finally knew that I’m gay. On February 23, 1993, I came out to myself. (I remember the date because it happened to be, strangely enough, my father’s birthday!) I also came out to my mom that day, with whom I was still living at the time. I was so nervous, but I knew it was something I had to do. I was shaking, but somehow after plenty of stumbling and stuttering I said the big G word. And to my surprise — and delight — my mom let out a deep breath and said something like “Is that all?”. She thought I was going to say that I didn’t like California and wanted to move back to North Dakota. She hugged me and told me it didn’t matter that I’m gay. As it turns out, I later learned that my mom’s best friend from high school is gay, too. So it certainly wasn’t an issue with her.
The next task was to tell my family and friends back in North Dakota. After such a positive experience with my mom, I couldn’t wait to tell everyone. My younger sister was surprised, but still supportive. My dad admitted that he wasn’t ecstatic about the news, but he made it a point to tell me he still loved me just the same. Some of my friends were shocked; some said they had guessed it already. All in all, it was a pretty good coming out — whether they were surprised or not, everyone was supportive and positive.
By now, it’s simply a matter of fact to my family and friends that I’m gay. I never have to remind anyone about my sexuality or what Michael means in my life. Ironically, I do have to remind them that my name isn’t Jason anymore! (By coincidence, I adopted my nickname Jase as my real name at the same time I came out.) All three of my parents are completely accepting of the relationship between Michael and me, and we all get along wonderfully.
Still, coming out is a continual process. Just by wearing gold bands on our ring fingers, Michael and I are making a decision to be visibly out. If somebody asks me about it, I’ll tell them the truth — that I have a husband, not a wife. When I interviewed for my first post-college employment, I had to decide whether or not I would be visibly out by including in my web portfolio the sites I’d done that catered to gay audiences. It was really an easy decision for me, though, as I certainly wouldn’t want to work anywhere that had a problem with my sexuality. And I knew that I’d be hired based on my talents, not based on the sex of who I love. Fortunately, I have that prerogative in the computer industry of the Bay Area — I realize that people in other fields and other places may not have the same option to be out. But that’s just all the more reason for me to be!
Copyright 1996–2007 by Jase Wells. All rights reserved. Do not reprint without permission. Originally published June 7, 1996 and edited on May 17,1998 and January 8, 2004.
