The people that I care the most about in the world now know me, the real me, without any walls to hide behind or masks to cover my true face. I’m free.

BY ADAM MORGENSTERN

IMAGE BY CHESLEY DAVIS

December 25 – Megan

Today is the true definition of a white Christmas. The snow is falling in heavy sheets, crushing any patches of grass left behind, the turkey has been in the oven since before I woke, and red and green decorations hang from the ceiling like handmade stars in the night sky.

I’m sitting on the couch across from my sister, Megan. We’re both on our phones, waiting for dinner to be ready. I see a video that makes me laugh at the fact that nobody knows that I’m gay, and I get an idea. Maybe I should tell her.

I’ve been meaning to tell her for a long time, but I could never come up with a way to do it, and this might be my opportunity. I hit send, expecting her to open it sometime after dinner. We could have a conversation about it after the butterflies in my stomach have been crushed by loads of turkey and mashed potatoes. I catch her eye as she stares up at me with a puzzled look on her face. She opened it. Why on earth would I do that? I’m not prepared for this moment. This is not happening right now. Shit.

I panic and get up. She asks me where I’m going, and I say for a walk. I walk and walk and walk until it feels like my legs are going to fall clean out of their sockets. I think back to the turkey in the oven, and how I would trade places with it a million times over if I could.

I come back 20 minutes later, covered in snow and self-doubt. I did it and there's no going back now. I need to face it. I climb the stairs, imagining I’m on Mount Everest, hoping I’ll just die before I reach the summit so I don’t have to face what lies beyond. I creep up to her room, the quiet hum of her fan indicating she’s inside. The door creaks open and she's sitting there, waiting for me. She knew I was coming. She could probably smell the self-pity from down the hall. I cross the room to sit in her chair, knowing I can’t delay this any further.

“So.” Her eyes are piercing through mine as if she’s trying to see what thoughts sit behind them. “That was a funny video you sent.” She looks down at her phone. “What did you–was it,” she hesitates and takes a few breaths before she settles on the right words. She looks me in the eyes, “Did you mean it?”

“Yes,” I mutter. My eyes are welling up now. My tears turn to streams, which turn to rivers and end as floods.

“Can you say it?” I guess I should have expected this. We can’t just move past this and pretend that nothing happened.

“I’m scared. I’m afraid that if I say it out loud it will make it real.”

“But it’s okay if it’s real.”

I take a few breaths to collect myself. I wipe the tears from my eyes and stare down at my feet. “I’m gay.” Well, no taking it back now.

“Is that the first time you’ve said it out loud?” I look up and realize that she’s crying, too.

“Yes,” I say as we both rise to our feet. She wraps her arms so tight around me that she squeezes the tears right out of my eyes.

“I’m proud of you, Adam. I love you.”

January 9 - Kate

We just finished eating dinner, and, as always, my sister Kate and I try to find any way we can to get out of cleaning up. She starts to give in and helps with the efforts to clear the table, but as she crumples up the aluminum foil, I have an idea.

“Pass that!” I whisper to her.

She tosses it in my direction, and we continue tossing the foil back and forth until we get the idea to have a games night, just the two of us, since everybody else has plans tonight. We decide to play Go Fish, a timeless classic.

After I win the first game, she hisses, “Why are you so good at this?” before asking me to shuffle so we can play again. In her determination to beat me, I find courage for something I hadn’t planned to do tonight. Telling Megan that I’m gay through a TikTok was a funny way to go about it, so I decide to try to one-up myself.

“Okay, last game, though,” I tell her. “Then we can play charades.”

She agrees, saying that she wants to go first. As I win our final round (obviously), she begins to demonstrate what one can only assume to be an attempt at a backstroke on the hardwood floor.

“Graceful as ever,” I joke.

“Well, I’d like to see you do better!” she shoots back, not knowing that I most definitely will do better than that.

I tell her to close her eyes and not to open them until I say so. She agrees, and I hurry over to the storage closet, closing the door behind me.

“Open!” I holler out of the crack in the door. When I assume that her eyes have adjusted to the light, I open the door and, well, come out of the closet.

January 22 - Ashley

Today is the day that I have been worried about for months. I decided this morning that I am going to tell the rest of my family that I’m gay. That means my sister Ashley, my mom, her boyfriend, my dad, his girlfriend, and my sister Ella. I am horrified about how the day is going to play out, but right now I have one thing on my mind: tell Ashley.

I’ve had a pair of rainbow Converse tucked away under my bed for almost a year now, and I think that they are going to be a great deal of help today. I’m still not fully comfortable with the way that the words, “I’m gay,” roll off my tongue, so I think that in this case, no words are a better idea.

I hear Ashley walking around downstairs and I realize that it’s now or never, because Mom gets home soon. I call her into my room and tell her to keep her eyes closed when she walks in. I grab my shoebox from under my bed and put it where she can see it. When she enters, I take a deep breath and tell her to open her eyes. She takes a few seconds to catch on, and once she does, she lets out a gasp.

“Really?” she exclaims. “You’re gay?”

“I mean, yes.” I shrug.

Before my shoulders can even come down, she has her arms wrapped tightly around me. This is the first time that coming out has not made me cry. For once, I’m happy. Fully, wholeheartedly happy.

Mom

I’m standing in my room with my sister, Megan.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks. “There's no pressure to do it before you’re ready.”

I clasp my shaky hands together and squeeze them between my knees. “I think so. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

I'm questioning my decision now. When Mom gets home, maybe I’ll just go out with Megan and forget the whole thing

“I know it’s scary, but I think it’ll make you feel better. You’ve waited your whole life to do this.”

I know that she’s right. The winter breeze flowing through my window lifts my spirits. I’ve made up my mind. I am going to do this whether I like it or not.

I turn my head at the sound of the front door opening, and Megan asks, one last time, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“You can do this,” she assures me. I hug her and we say goodbye. As she hops down the stairs, she says hello and goodbye to Mom and lets her know that she’s going out for the afternoon.

“Mom!” I call down the stairs. “Can you come up to my room for a minute?”

The shaking in my hands has spread through all my limbs, and the burning in my gut has climbed up through my chest into my throat.

“Yep!” she calls back to me. The sound of her footsteps on the stairs causes me to retreat to my room. I look around and realize this is the last time my life will be this way. In under five minutes, everything will have changed, for better or for worse. Maybe I’ll just say I don’t feel so good, or I’ll lie and tell her that I forgot what I was going to say. No. No going back now. I force myself to sit down on my bed as she opens the door.

“Is everything okay?”

She’s confused. I never call her to my room unless I need help with something. Otherwise, I go to hers.

“Yes. I’m okay. Can you sit down?”

My eyes are already starting to well up. She looks at me with concern, and I feel like she knows exactly what I’m about to say. Of course she does. She's my mom. But what if she doesn’t? What if this is a huge shock to her?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks me.

I look down at the comforter, seeing new patterns that I don’t think were there before. Maybe I’m hallucinating. Maybe I should go to the hospital. I can just tell her another time. It’s not even a pressing matter; it’s not life or death. I tear my eyes from my bed to look up into hers. I can’t stop now. There’s no going back from here. This is it.

“I’m gay.”

Silence. The waterworks have officially been turned on. Tears start to roll down my face as I look up at her, and she stares right back at me, words that she hasn’t said hanging in the air. I squeeze my eyes shut to let my tears flow free and I feel her arms wrap around me.

“Okay,” she says.

I open my eyes and see that hers are leaking too. I swing my arms around her shoulders and pull myself in, resting my head against hers. We sit like this for what feels like an eternity, the best eternity that I could ever hope for. I lift my head and see the mess that I’ve made on her shirt. The mix of tears and snot makes me laugh. She laughs too, making me afraid to see what’s on my shirt.

I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, but it certainly wasn’t that. All the other possible scenarios raced through my mind in the moments before I opened my mouth. She could have given me a long, reassuring speech, told me to get the hell out of her house, asked me a bunch of questions about it, said I would go to hell, got up and left, or, God forbid, started to pray. But silence, silence was not on my list. It was unexpected, but I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better response. The silence was just what I needed.

Dad

I’m coming down from the high of coming out to Mom and realizing two things. One: that wasn’t so bad, and two: that was the scariest thing I have ever done in my entire life. But I’m not done yet. I promised myself I would tell Dad today, too, and I never break a promise.

Megan, Ashley, and I are on our way to Dad’s for dinner tonight, and I’m trying to figure out how I want to tell him. I think that I’ll do it in a similar way that I did with Mom: just rip the Band-Aid off, the quicker the better.

When we get to Dad’s house, dinner is already on the table, so we all sit to eat. I’m quieter than usual tonight, and I can’t stop my leg from shaking so much that it moves the whole bench. The only thing keeping me tied to reality, and this dinner table, is the food in front of me. Butter chicken has always been one of my favourite meals, and eating it gives me something to focus on other than what I’m about to do. I’m so happy that my family decided to make it for dinner tonight.

Once we’re all done eating, I put a couple of dishes away and sneak off. Pacing around my room like a caged animal doesn’t help to calm my nerves much, so I sprint up to my sister’s.

“Do I do it? I don’t know if I can do it. We’re here for the night, so maybe I’ll just do it tomorrow at some point.”

Megan becomes the voice of reason that I can’t summon for myself. “You promised yourself, Adam. You can’t back down now. You know he’ll be supportive,” she says. I do know that, and I did promise myself.

I kill some time in her room until she eventually kicks me out and tells me to go do what I need to do. I drag my feet all the way down the hall and to my bed. I tidy up a few piles of clothes and decide where the two of us should sit. I don’t need to plan everything so intricately, but it seems to help me breathe, so I continue. Eventually, I know that the time has come, and I need to stop making myself more nervous.

I call down the stairs to Dad and ask him to come up to my room. When he gets there, I’m sitting in my spot, and I gesture him to his. While he gets comfortable, I try to catch my breath. I didn’t do any physical activity, but it feels like I just ran a marathon.

“I have something to tell you,” I say.

I can’t tear my eyes off my hands. I wish I could sit here picking my hangnails forever, and never have to face reality. Instead, I look up at him and say it. “I’m gay.”

He smiles, nods, and hugs me, holding on for a while. I can hear his sobs in between my own, and I know that from now on, I have nothing to worry about.

The people that I care the most about in the world now know me, the real me, without any walls to hide behind or masks to cover my true face. I’m free. Free from the guilt of a secret I felt forced to keep. Free from the crippling pain of hiding, not only from my family, but from myself, too. I am free.

Adam Morgenstern was born and raised in the small Northern Ontario City of Sault Ste. Marie. He is completing his Bachelor of Arts in Media and Communication Studies at the University of Guelph-Humber. He enjoys writing in his free time, and draws inspiration from his roots in Northern Ontario, growing up queer in a small community, and his experiences with love, friendship, and family. You can find Adam on Instagram @adam.morgenstern.

Image: Chromatic Disruption” (Chesley Davis, 2023)

Edited for publication by Audie Cameron, as part of the Creative Book Publishing program.

HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation and the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts.

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