Fresh out of grammar school, I enjoyed the summer to the fullest. Living in my parents’ house, I still had rules to follow, curfews, and constant communication with my parents. However, I felt free knowing I had more liberty as an adolescent entering high school soon. I was still figuring out who I was as a person and with many changes came one big question.
When will I come out to my mom?
At the age of 14, I was a confident gay teen. My brother and sisters knew about me; they’ve already gotten the “talk.” Yet, I was terrified to speak to my mom about my sexual orientation. Despite growing in a patriarchal culture, my Mexican father was very open-minded, and I knew I always had his support no matter what. We had already had the talk without actually having the conversation. All he said was to be safe, use protection, and finish school.
My First Pride Parade
In June of 2006, a couple of friends invited me out to the annual pride festival to end summer vacation with a bang. I was resilient at first; I was just coming to terms with people finding out that I was gay, and news travels fast among friends. The morning came, I decided I would go; how bad can it be, right? We had planned to wear all white with a rainbow accent. I didn’t want to show a single bit that I was wearing a rainbow flag, especially letting my mom know that I was going to such an event. I decided to wear a rainbow belt. It was subtle, and I could hide it well if my parents saw me walking out.
“Common, hurry up,” my friend Valerie yelled impatiently through the phone as they waited for me to come out of my house. I was already ready. I was just nervous about leaving my home and letting my mom know where I was going. As usual, I expected a million questions. “Where are you going? Who are you going with? Who is driving you? What time will you be home? Did you eat?” But I was most nervous about her seeing the rainbow belt I was trying to hide under my shirt. I took a deep breath and built the courage to come down. I tried to avoid her and all her questions despite knowing I was acting nervous. I practically ran to the front door to put my shoes on; what I didn’t think about was my shirt riding up as I bent over to put on my shoes. The questions began.
I was trying to lace up my shoes as fast as possible, and getting the other shoe on, felt like I was in a Mission Impossible movie. “Where are you going?” my mother asked like clockwork. “With Valerie and our friends,” I answered quickly. “Yes, but where are you going?” she reiterated with a firmer voice. “Oh, to a friend’s birthday party,” I answered with a chuckle. I don’t know why I laughed; I guess it was because I was out of my mind and nervous. Finally, I turned around to look at her. She gave me a look that let me know that she suspected something. Maybe it was my suspicious behavior or the way I was vaguely answering her questions.
It was 11 am and I was going to a friend’s birthday party? What a dumb excuse. She would never believe me. I was doomed. As I looked at her for the next question, I heard my friends honking out, waiting even more impatiently. “Whose birthday?” my mom said with a lower tone in her voice. I knew I wasn’t in the clear now. “Angel’s!” I said but I wasn’t prepared for the next question. I was caught like a deer in headlights. “Dressed like that?” mom said as she pointed to my mid-section. I looked down trying to see what she was referring to knowing very well she asked about the rainbow belt. I tried to play it off and said, “Yeah, that’s the theme of the party.” She wasn’t convinced. “You know who wears those colors?” she said while her glance locked in mine like she was looking into my soul. I didn’t want to say yes, but I couldn’t say no. After a long pause, I replied, “Yes?” Already with a lump in my throat and trying to keep it together, I stared back at her. What seemed like an eternity was only minutes. The burning sensation of her stare and the silence in the room killed me.
I didn’t know how to answer anything that followed, but I certainly wasn’t prepared when she asked, “Well, are you?” I wanted to run so fast, so far as my feet could take me. I wanted to bury my head in a hole and never come back up for air. I was ashamed; I felt the disappointment ooze into my soul. I felt like I was a complete failure to them. Their young boy came out of the closet at the age of 14. With every ounce of courage and fear, I burst into tears. I nodded my head to insinuate yes as I stared at the floor. All the fear in me came out in emotions. I was overwhelmed with anxiety about how this was going to play out. Now, I have been standing there for what seemed an eternity. I know my mother didn’t think twice and acted on impulse; my heart shattered with the following words blurted out of her mouth. “Get out!” she yelled, “Get out and don’t come back. Don’t call your brother and sisters! Just don’t come back!” Defeated, I didn’t say a word. I turned around and walked out the door. I got in Val’s car and immediately they knew something had happened when they saw my composure and the tears rolling down my face. I said nothing.
The Triumph of Pride
My first pride parade was supposed to be empowering and full of happy memories, but instead, I was numb. I was shattered by my mom’s reaction and all I could think of was the stupid belt I put so much effort into hiding. Yet, in the middle of a Pride parade, I felt like a ghost and decided to leave. I couldn’t go back home and mom forbade me from calling my sisters and brothers. But I did it anyway. I called my older sister and told her everything. It felt like opening Pandora’s box and the emotions came rushing back. She picked me up and brought me back to her apartment, where I lived for a few months. My sister took it upon herself to have a hard and long conversation with both my parents. My mother’s reaction was expected, but I needed her more now than ever. Finally, after the long months passed, I got a phone call from my mom. With a profound apology and lots of remorse, she asked me to go back home. Although my mother never stopped loving me, I understand now that it was hard for her to process what she did not understand. Acceptance can take time in many cultures with misperceptions about sexual and gender orientation. I had to be patient with my mom. She was mostly afraid I would experience the hard life many gay, trans, and lesbians face and the discrimination that sometimes leads to hate crimes.
I lived with my mom through high school and there was a bit of an adjustment period and many arguments. The only thing that has changed is that my mother wants to know more about me. As an adult, she accepts me for who I am and who I am with. Overcoming adversity is a big challenge, but with the love of a family, anything is possible.
Share Your Voice
We are so grateful Ramon Flores agreed to share his powerful and inspiring coming out story with our community. We are reminded of the pain and fight towards equality the LGBTQAI community has endured for many years not so long ago to be able to celebrate Pride. If you or anyone you know is in need of resources for support and assistance, please do not hesitate to contact NIOT Daniel Island.
Ramon Flores is an aspiring writing professional and currently attending college. He is a talent server at the chic Mediterranean restaurant, Aba, in Chicago with years of experience in dining and hospitality. If you are interested in sharing your voice, contact us.
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