Coming Out At 12 Years Old

I was twelve-years-old when I began to question my sexuality. Those around me had already questioned my sexuality on my behalf for years. But for me, it was all so new. Little did I know that I was just on the first step of my journey into accepting my identity. A mountain climb awaited.

Growing up, I was so used to the sarcastic comments about the way I dressed, and the derogatory remarks about my mannerisms and self-presentation. I was defined by the strangers on the playground telling me I was not like the other boys. I used to wonder what being gay meant. They didn’t teach us at school about homosexual figures and relationships. Even sex education followed a very traditional and conservative route; heterosexuality was the norm and if you didn’t fit into that category, too bad. To those around me, the way I spoke, my quirks, and my interests were all considered gay. There was no denying that I was a child with stereotypical effeminate qualities. Those attributes drew me away from all the other boys who used to love playing football and bulldog. The rest of the boys enjoyed playing sports, I enjoyed writing and art. At school dances, I loved dancing with the girls in my form, the boys loved acting cool from the sidelines. I was just trying to be me. Trying my best to live an innocent childhood. That very abruptly ended when the gay remarks became acts of bullying: emotional, verbal, and physical. It was a constant reminder that I was different and stood out from all the other children. Little did I know that my individuality would bring me the greatest happiness and success in the long term.

At the time, however, I had no idea what this identity meant for me. According to the way I was treated and pushed around, it was clearly bad. For most of my childhood, being gay was a shameful identity. It signified that your life was just going to be difficult and unfortunate. The ignorance of my peers built this negative portrayal of being gay and stigmatised homosexuality. I wanted to play the role of the “normal” heterosexual child just to avoid the questions, the bullying, the torment. I was very quickly forced to grow up. To understand who I was, what I was; what I was feeling, and what this meant for me as a soon-to-be teen. I was twelve-years-old and my whole being was being questioned by everyone around me, and now it was my turn. My time to question me. I had tried to suppress my feelings. I didn’t want to be different or an outcast. I tried to be like every other boy, but it wasn’t enough for them. People still proceeded to call me out and make my life a living hell. Until I had confessed my truth.

I ‘came out of the closet’ to my friends, to my family, and most importantly, to myself when I was twelve-years-old. Initially, I came out as pansexual. I was very uneducated about the LGBTQ+ community and so I relied on my older boyfriend to guide me. He was openly pansexual, and so I clung to that label for the sake of identifying my difference with the world. Trying to choose a label was exhausting. How could I be so sure of my sexuality when I hadn’t even properly kissed a boy? I felt as though I had no choice but to choose a label for the sake of ‘coming out’. Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand and respect why people use labels. It helps many individuals to feel not so alone. Like they are understood and fit in. When I came out, the multiple times I did, labels allowed me to educate myself about sexuality. It gave me a starting point for researching what was going through my head; thoughts that often felt all over the place. However, labels equally made me feel like I had to define myself through a definitive label. It made me feel like I had to be something I wasn’t. I felt like I had to give myself a label to prove my difference. I couldn’t just say that I was interested in and had feelings for men. I had to openly and officially say that I was a gay male. I know recognise the fluidity of sexuality. But then, I was told that the only way to come out was to use a label. When I realised I had no idea what pansexuality was, I decided to come out as bisexual. I often avoided coming out as gay because I knew that as soon as I made that jump into being gay, there was no going back to being ‘normal’. My twelve-year-old self assumed that if I labelled myself as bisexual, I would at least be half ‘normal’. I thought it would make the bullying stop if I owned up to being partly like every other boy in school.

It didn’t end. The bullies persisted and I continued to question. Questioning my identity. Questioning identities. A few months into my bisexual phase, I decided to announce that I was gay. I text my friends, told my family, making sure everyone knew that I was gay. I wasn’t bisexual, I wasn’t pansexual. I was gay. I now believe that I hid behind other labels to mask how I truly felt. All I wanted to admit was that I was interested in men. I didn’t care what I said or how it came out, I just knew I wanted to speak my truth.

Now, as a 21-year-old homosexual male, I have many questions for my twelve-year-old self. How did you know? How did you cope with all the bullying? Endless days of verbal confusion, questioning, and loneliness? I hate to imagine someone experiencing those same feelings right now and that same identity confusion. It’s difficult. There are days where you feel you can push mountains. And others where you feel crushed by those same mountains.

I feel so very lucky and fortunate that next year will officially mark ten beautiful years of being ‘outside the closet’. A decade-long venture into my gay life. Accepting your sexuality is easier for some, and harder for others. It can take weeks or years, and there is no age limit with your sexuality. I feel grateful for knowing and being so comfortable with myself at such a young age. It wasn’t easy, and I certainly was not educated. But, nearly ten years on, I have grown, matured, and learnt so much. And still, continue to.