What Coming Out Taught Me About the Cusp of Change
- 6 days ago
- 3 min read
It is Pride weekend here in Vancouver. While you won't necessarily find me in the middle of the crowded street parades, I am an extraordinarily proud gay man. My celebration looks a little quieter, but my support for our community runs deep.
As the city fills with colour, I have been reflecting on my own turning point. I didn't have a grand plan to come out. In fact, in June 2009, at 25 years old and midway through my PhD in Ireland, I thought I was firmly in the closet. I had a solid group of friends, and I felt safe enough.
Then came a seemingly ordinary house party.
A male friend made an off-the-cuff remark about chatting up women in nightclubs and turned to me to back him up. In that split second, a switch flipped in my head. I thought, I cannot do this anymore. I cannot keep lying about who I am.
I went quiet, excused myself, and walked outside to call a close friend in Calgary whom I had visited the week before. As soon as she answered, I started hyperventilating. She thought someone had died. Through tears and overwhelming angst, I tried to speak. Finding the strength to physically say the word "GAY" felt almost impossible.
When it finally came out, her voice was steady and gentle: "Brian, that's fine. You're okay. Everything is going to be okay."
A wave of relief washed over me. For the first time in 25 years on this planet, I was being true to myself.
The Weight of Coming Out
Over the rest of that weekend, I began telling close friends and family. It didn't get easier with each conversation. Every single call carried a fresh wave of fear and angst about whether I would be accepted.
I was terrified to tell my parents. Not because I thought they would disown me, but because I was terrified of letting them down. My mum seemed fine initially, but went on to have a difficult time later that summer. When she was my age, the gay men she knew were either beaten up or victims of the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s. Her fear came from love, as she simply worried that my life was going to be infinitely harder. It took thoughtful counselling from my aunt to help her see that I was going to be fine.
My dad, a blue-collar bricklayer, was my biggest worry. But I quickly realized I had nothing to fear. He embraced me with the exact same warmth and love he always had and told me he was proud of me.
With his embrace, I felt I could finally let my mask slip.
When the Circle Shrinks
Unmasking, however, often comes with a cost. Over the next few months, my core group of guy friends started excluding me from social gatherings. When I confronted them, I was met with responses like, "You're imagining it," or "You don't have to go on about it all the time." Later, I learned some felt I had "lied to them" for years.
They were telling me who not to be. What they didn't realize was that it was never about them. I hadn't been lying to them to be deceitful, I had been lying to myself for my entire life just to survive.
It took me another three to four years after that initial weekend to fully accept who I was. Navigating internalized shame and homophobia takes time. Coming out is not a single event. It is a continuous practice, and while the heaviness never completely disappears, it gets significantly easier the clearer you become about who you are. 17 years later, I couldn't be happier, with the man of my dreams by my side and a life I couldn't have imagined. I know my privilege and I honour it.
Meeting Yourself at the Cusp
Looking back, I wish I had known about professional coaching during those years. Having a safe, non-judgmental space to process the fear, unlearn the self-doubt, and step boldly into my truth would have been transformative.
To anyone out there currently feeling lost, hiding behind a mask, or standing on the verge of a major personal identity shift: you do not have to navigate the fog alone.
Whether you are stepping into your authentic self as part of the LGBTQ+ community, or simply realizing that the old ways of living no longer fit, you are standing on the cusp of change. On the other side of that threshold is a life that is happier, lighter, and truly yours.
If you are navigating a threshold moment in your life or career, I would be honoured to hold space for you. Book a free Chemistry Session below and let's explore what becomes possible when you live without the mask.
