When I was 13, I went to a sleepover where they had cable and was exposed to the Robin Byrd Show. I was watching a male dancer a bit too intently to raise questions by the other boys. I lied, "No, I'm straight! He's a good dancer though."
When I was 14, A. was my nemisis; she would always accuse me of being gay. I lied, "I'm straight. And stop calling everyone gay, bitch."
When I was 15, S. was the assumed gay guy in my class. He asked if we could be friends, and fearing being labelled gay by association and I lied, "I can't. I'm straight."
When I was 16, R. said, "I know it was Jason. He's gay!" We were practicing the part of the school play where R. was being caught by a bunch of amazon natives, some of whom while carrying him off-stage pulled his pants off. Even though I had a crush on him, I was too scared to do anything that daring, so I lied, "No, I'm straight."
When I was 19, I roomed next door to a flamboyantly gay guy. When the jocks on the floor asked if I knew what he was all about. I lied, in a forced baritone, "I'm straight, how the hell should I know."
When I was 21, I spent a semester in London, living with 5 other Americans. I was labelled 'the gay one' (via Real World), I laughed it off and lied, "That's okay, I'm straight; and he's stupid." Well, he was stupid.
When I was 22, my dad off-handedly asked me if I had a boyfriend. Shocked, as if I was caught stealing cookies from the jar, I hid my feelings and while acting as straight as possible I lied, "No, I'm straight."
I'm tired of lying; and this past Christmas, I stopped.
This is my 'coming out and apology' post.
To everyone I lied to, I'm sorry. Here's the truth: I'm Jason, and I'm gay.
(I apologize to anyone who is finding this out through my blog. I really wanted to tell you in person or over the phone, so give me a call, okay?)