A Gay Dad’s Letter to His Younger Self

December 2, 2014 | By Brent Almond | LGBT STUFF

Dear Younger Gay Self
Dear Younger Me,

Well, it looks like same-sex marriage is about to be legal in the entire U.S. And although it seems like it’s taken an eternity for all 50 states to come around, it’s pretty amazing when I stop and think about it. But you probably have no idea what I’m even talking about, do you? That’s why I’m writing you — to let you know how things will be when you’re an adult, so you can be encouraged and have hope and just hang in there. I’m also writing to remind myself how lucky I am and how far I’ve come.

Remember when you were about seven years old, and you started having thoughts that made you think you were different, not quite right, broken? And how you inherently knew you were doing something wrong, even though you weren’t doing anything but being yourself? And then you started looking in the index of every Bible you ever came across for mention of the word “homosexual” — hoping above all hope for an answer to what was going on inside your head and heart. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.

Nowadays you hardly ever think about the fact that you’re gay, and certainly never that you’re broken or sinful or not quite right. You still think you’re different sometimes, but you kind of enjoy that, and see it more as being unique or special, not as something to be hated. 

I think about your years in elementary school, when you liked to hang out with the girls at recess, and how you never enjoyed sports, thus adding to your feelings of isolation. I think about junior high, when you started to discover your sexuality and had nowhere to turn but your imagination, the ads in a magazine, or the superheroes in your comic books. I think about high school, where you started trying to date girls in order to fit in, but felt completely alone and always scared of being found out — even though you didn’t quite know what it was you were hiding yet. In truth, you knew — but were too afraid to say it out loud…or even think it.

However, my life as an adult has been unbelievably rich with love and friendship of every kind. I’ve had so many incredible friends — both guys and girls, gay and straight — who know and accept me for who I am in every way. I’ve dated some very nice men, experiencing all the highs and lows a relationship brings with it — just like all your friends did in school. It’s been heartbreaking at times, unimaginably thrilling at others — but it’s all been honest and real and part of living life out in the open.

I recall your college years, finally putting words to your fears, and how devastating and horrifying that was. And how you initially felt liberated by speaking your truth, only to be suffocated and crippled by the religious rules you felt compelled to follow and the religious leaders you subjected yourself to. All in hopes that God would fix you. So many years (the entirety of your youth) spent in prayer and Bible study and therapy and confession and retreats and mission trips and exorcisms. So many tears shed, so many screams, so much self-loathing.

I can still feel the fear you felt, wondering what Mom and Dad would think if they knew. The disappointment, sadness and rejection that might occur. The ongoing battle in your head, weighing which was worse — the secrets and lies or the possible estrangement from the two people who’d loved, nurtured, and protected you every day since you were born.

But please hold on. Be hopeful. Very soon you will come to the conclusion — after decades of fighting what you’ve been feeling — that this is how God created you. That you are indeed “wonderfully made.” And you can stop trying to be something else, and just be. You will experience so much freedom and relief. 

Mom and Dad will have a hard time at first. It won’t be perfect or without conflict. But they will come around, as long as you continue to do the same. They will love and accept you and pray for you as they’ve always done. They will even stand up for your right to be yourself and love who you love. They will come to your defense against friends, church members, and even other family members. You always were and always will be their pride and joy.

And you will experience deep, real, committed love. You will meet a man who adores and respects you for who you are right then, for who you will be, and for how far you’ve come. And he will be with you, by your side, as you journey through life. You will love, cherish and honor one another — for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. And then, after nearly 20 years sharing your life together, you will become legally and lovingly married, in the backyard of the home you share, with your family and friends officiating, singing, toasting, and celebrating all around you.

Lastly, I look back to when you would picture your life as a father, but could never imagine how to make that happen. You felt like you’d never want to live in such secrecy and misery in order to become and stay a family, but that it would likely be your lot in life.

Older Gay Self

Yet one day, many years from now, you and your husband will bring a baby boy into your lives. He will be your son, your pride and joy and everything. And you will be his father, and will feel complete. After 40 years on the planet, you’ll feel like you’ve finally taken on the roles you were born to fulfill. A husband and a father. And a gay man: happily, incidentally, truthfully gay.

So please be patient just a little bit longer. Life is about to get wonderful.

Much love,
Older You

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

This post also appears on The Parents Project, preceded by an additional, shorter letter — one addressed to the parents of LGBTQ kids. Please take a moment to read that letter and to learn more about The Parents Project and their amazingly supportive space on the web.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

For more posts, conversations (and way fewer photos of me with bad 80s hair), visit and like Designer Daddy on Facebook.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

comments

12 responses to “A Gay Dad’s Letter to His Younger Self”

  1. Chad Clayton says:

    You made me teary! Loved the letter! 🙂

  2. Frank Butterfield says:

    Brent — So beautiful! Thank you for putting all this hopefulness down in words.

    Also: love the KLBJ t-shirt. 🙂

    • Brent Almond says:

      Thank you Frank. It’s been a long time and a lot of space to see the hope in all that.

      And I guess you’re talking about my brother’s t-shirt. He was the rocker for sure. 😉

  3. Lisa Fiore says:

    Tears streaming… We love you Brent!

  4. Jack says:

    No words other than You have Got This. So very nicely done here, so very nicely done.

  5. What a wonderful letter to your younger self and a letter that I am sure would inspire young people going through the same internal struggles, to face their fears and be who they are.

    I hope your words connect with everyone who needs them.

    Thank you for sharing a most personal look at your past.

  6. neal says:

    Recording stuff like this is double powerful – powerful for you, to be able to articulate histories of pain, perseverance, and hope, and powerful to your readers, especially the next generation (not necessarily star trek), so that they can know they’re not alone, know that there are rainbows after storms, and that being different doesn’t sentence you to solitude, but rather prepares you for that moment when you find someone who completes your puzzle.

  7. Don says:

    Very nice, Brent. It’s hard to imagine what it must have been like to have to hide yourself from the world. Hopefully, things will be easier for the next generation and so on, until being gay doesn’t even make another person flinch, let alone become irrationally enraged.

    I read a high school friend’s book recently called “Confessions of a Gay Black Swimmer.” You may have guessed, he’s gay and he’s black and yeah, he’s an exceptionally gifted swimmer. Anyway, there’s no point to that other than it’s weird I recently read about two gay friends’ lives and appreciate them both more for having done so. Okay, I’m leaving now.

Leave a Comment (watch your language)

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.