It's OK to Feel Gay

A letter to my younger self

It’s ‘just a phase,’ I told myself. I knew I was lying though.

When I was a kid, I’d always feel left out. My friends would talk about girls they were interested in; I never had anything to add. Maybe I was a late bloomer. But that also proved to be wrong.

In fact, while they were talking about their crushes, turns out I was more interested in my male friends. I was drawn to them…not sexually — at least not at first. Those feelings were deeply confusing and isolating. What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I like the other guys?

Over time those feelings grew stronger. And the stronger they grew the more I tried to bury them. And the more I tried to bury them, the more alone I felt. I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. My dad scared me and this wasn’t something I’d talk to my sisters or mom about.

I didn’t know where to turn. I tried to find answers online, but that left me confused. I tried to find answers in church too, but that made me feel worse. They taught marriage is supposed to be between a man and a woman. Ok, I want that. But, how do I reconcile my feelings? There was little consolation and no recourse.

It’s really agonizing when values and feelings don’t line up. It’s not like I chose to feel this way. Who would want this? I couldn’t deny the feelings I had, but indulging them meant sacrificing another part of me. And so I was left straddling the fence. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.

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I wish I could go back in time and comfort my younger self.

I would’ve given him a hug and told him it’s alright. I would have told him it’s ok to feel confused, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. More than anything, I would make sure he felt loved — because I know he hasn’t felt that way.

I would’ve told him that he’s no different than any of the other boys. I might have tried to explain that sex and intimacy is really about connection. And that there are legitimate and powerful emotional needs driving sexual attraction. They’re like roots of a tree. Everyone has them; they’re innate. And the resulting sexuality is the tree that grows from those roots, the natural byproduct of those emotional needs trying to be met.

I would have tried to normalize that we seldom have control over how we feel; but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn from our emotions if we choose to. There’s no need to feel guilty or shame for being attracted to other guys. The tree is just developing the best it can in the environment it was provided. So it’s not helpful to judge; it’s not the tree’s fault that it was planted on rocky ground.

Together we might try to clear out some of those rocks — shame and trauma causing the tree to grow the way it has. We would cry together remembering when he was bullied in school, when dad would yell at him, or when mom would give him the silent treatment. I would try to help him understand that it wasn’t his fault. He’s not broken.

We could talk about how to fertilize the roots and get those emotional needs met in lasting ways. I would emphasize that we all need to feel love and accepted by our same-sex peers. I’d encourage him to be vulnerable with his friends and trust that they can be there for him. I might encourage him to join a sports team or some clubs. But I know it’s hard for him because past experiences have taught him that opening up leads to rejection and disappointment. But I also know that for him to become the man he wants to be, he needs to feel accepted by the guys. He needs to feel like he’s one of them.

I'd want him to know that he doesn’t need to just grit his teeth, pretend, or suppress his feelings. I’d suggest to him that maybe those feelings are just reminders that those roots need attention. And that as he removes those rocks and tends to the roots, the tree will begin to flourish. But willpower alone won’t do the job.

I would let him know that the years ahead may be difficult. That if left on its own, the tree will grow wild and barren. I would also warn him that people will tell him that the tree is fixed, destined to grow a certain way. But that’s not the case. Believing this will diminish his personal agency, leaving him with heartache and resignation. After all, who are we to place limits on someone else’s potential?

Regardless of how the future plays out, I’d make sure he knows he is loved. It’s easy to get caught up on the sexuality piece, but that is after all, just a symptom. The feelings themselves aren’t the problem, but they’re pointing to deeper wounds begging to be healed.

If I could go back in time, I’d try and convey all of that. But, I can’t go back. And even if I could, I’m not sure younger me would’ve listened. It might have been too much for him to grasp at once. Sometimes knowledge has to come through experience.

So the best I can do now is plant the idea for someone today: of course you can change. You don’t have to be a victim of your circumstances. It’s ok to feel gay, but you have the power to cultivate your own life, to nurture your roots, and become the person you want to be. You’re the gardener.