Posted on this Website in June 2003
First Published in Asian Weeks, June 28, 2002

In an ideal world, my coming out story would go something like this: Fade in to a large ballroom overflowing with everyone I've ever known — my father, mother, sisters, brothers, friends, relatives, acquaintances and lovers. I’m standing on a podium behind a microphone where I'm making a few obligatory thank yous to everyone in attendance. I'd crack a handful of jokes about the gifts received before finally getting to the point of it all, the reason I have them in one place: to tell them I'm gay. I say it, then the scene fades out to commercials.

Unfortunately, coming out hasn't been as easy or predictable, nor has it ever been quite as dramatic. When I came out to my sister last fall, she reacted as I had expected: She cried, then told me our parents — especially my father — would kill me. It wasn't exactly the reaction I had in mind. However, my sister told me she will always love me for who I am and, had our mother been alive today, she would have said the same thing. My mother would have wanted me to enjoy my life and live it to its fullest.

My father, who has remarried, is a different story. I wouldn't say he'd kill me; in fact, he's been so unpredictable lately, I wouldn't know what to expect. Over the past few months, I've gotten much closer to him — more so than I ever had when I was growing up. I still remember our bitter arguments and how they were made worse by the stubbornness we had in common. Now, instead of dwelling on what was said in the past, we just laugh. I enjoy the time we spend together because I finally understand that the time I have with him is limited and that he may not be here tomorrow. I've also realized he's finally become the father I always wished I had.

I practice my coming out speech to him in my mind probably once a day. In each case, I imagine a different reaction. Sometimes he's angry, other times he’s relieved because he can now inquire about that part of my life in the open without shame. During those times, I'm also able to imagine for a few moments what it feels like to be completely whole. If it were an ideal world, he would continue to accept me as his son, regardless of my sexual orientation. He'd see my homosexuality in relation to my other accomplishments and smile, knowing that he had played a key role in all of my successes. If only.

Most of my friends, however, have known I'm gay, and knowing that they know and still care about me makes it that much easier to wake up in the morning. This wasn't always the case. There used to be times when I thought that I was alone in my struggle and that no one could ever understand what I was going through.

In the months I've been at Asian & Pacific Islander Wellness Center, I've never been proven more wrong. I've encountered unqualified validation from gay and straight people alike. I've heard coming out stories as diverse as our levels of outness and activism, cultural expectations and creeds. Yet at the same time these vast differences exist, there is also something all of us have in common: the yearning to be accepted for who we are as people — as lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgenders who at the same time are Asian Pacific Americans.

Coming out continues to be a lifelong process. As a friend told me the other day, being out doesn't necessarily mean shouting out to the world that you’re gay, although you're more than welcome to do that. It's also not a one-time event. Everyone has their own way of sharing this most personal aspect of their lives. When I eventually decide to share this aspect of my life with my father, my only wish is that he will understand that it is nothing more than a gift.

This Sunday marks the first time I'll be marching down Market Street during San Francisco's Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Pride Parade. I don't know whether my parents will be marching alongside me, or whether it will be only my sister, who has since become one of my closest allies. Regardless, I know I'll be supported.

If you are a parent, relative, co-worker, neighbor or friend, I encourage you to join us and help break the isolation we all struggle with so often as APAs. By deciding to march, you demonstrate your belief that we all — straight and gay — have the right to live as whole people.