I don’t think my coming out is your typical story, but then again there isn’t such thing as typical coming out because each one is personal. However, back when I was 13, I knew that I was ‘different’ from everyone else at school. Even with around 2,500 pupils in my high school, I felt that I stuck out from the crowd. What did, however, push me to come out at 13 came from my lack of patience, everything has to be done now – a habit that I still have – in addition to the paranoia that my mum was talking about gay topics around me on purpose. So, to get it out and avoid confrontation, I wrote it in a letter, placed it into her flight documents when she heading to NYC for a short trip with my Nan. I told her not to contact me, enjoy the shopping and time with Nan and we can talk when you get back. Those few days I was filled with worry, thankfully though when my Mum came back she ultimately couldn’t care less, as long as I was happy. Of course, she had her worries about STI’s, being alone, bullied at work, being unhappy but that’s Mum’s for you, they worry for their kids. My Dad on the other hand is a different story, my Mum informed him which I was happy about. His response to the news though was, “fuck!”. Following this, he suggested to my mum that they hire a female escort to ‘sort me out’. It took a while for him to come around and of course there were a few instances of ‘straight man questions’ – “Surely if there is no woman involved to say no, don’t gay just fuck all the time?”. Over the years, he’s shown more interest in my personal life and asked how things are going, which for me is more than enough. Big test would be to introduce a boyfriend to him, though with 6,000 miles between us and no boyfriend on the horizon that it’s a worry... (at London, United Kingdom)