Growing Up in a Straight World
From the age of twelve, I sensed I was different from my classmates in elementary school—maybe even earlier. When does one truly become aware of their sexuality? Honestly, I’m still trying to figure it out.
Living in the Danish countryside taught me that being gay was wrong, disgusting, and not a viable path. Most who didn’t conform to heterosexual norms fled to larger cities, leaving the countryside steeped in ignorance. Consequently, I lacked exposure to gay role models during my upbringing.
One day, my father remarked that “bøsser” (which can mean either guns or gay men) were something you could shoot with or shoot at. I don’t blame him; it was a different time in the early ’90s, and people were less informed. Acceptance for gay individuals moved at a snail’s pace. While I wish there had been more education about sexuality back then, I can’t turn back time.
These hateful comments made me question whether coming out was worth it, and that doubt lingered in my subconscious for years.
Before coming out, I genuinely feared that my parents would disown me for being gay. Like many, I just wanted to fit in and make my parents proud—even if it meant hiding my true self.
During my teenage years, I liked the idea of having a girlfriend but couldn’t fall in love with women. It was frustrating, and I tried hard to be someone I wasn’t. Determined to appear straight, I limited myself to a heterosexual world while suppressing my deepest secret. Over time, it morphed into a distant, fuzzy dream. My narrow perspective became a way of avoiding reality.
Depression crept in, and I felt like I was watching my life slip away. A defining moment occurred in 2016 while standing on a bridge in Aarhus. I realized I wasn’t ready to die without knowing what true love felt like. I was exhausted from pretending to be straight, and since nothing seemed to matter anymore, I knew I had nothing to lose. The issue wasn’t the idea of being gay; it was my internal struggle.
A Bit About Me
My name is Casper, and I live in Aarhus, Denmark’s second-largest city, proudly dubbed the World’s Smallest Big City. Yes, it sounds as Danish as it gets! Aarhus, being Copenhagen’s little sister, has much to offer, including a vibrant local LGBT community. Our museum, ARoS, even boasts a rainbow panorama atop its roof, reminding us of the importance of equality and diversity.
I hold a master’s degree in Economics and Business Administration. After graduating this January, I felt ready to come out. At 28, I suppose I’m a late bloomer, but I don’t regret waiting. I simply wasn’t ready until now. Still, I often ponder how my life might have been different had I found the courage to come out ten years ago.
Today, I’m proud to have finally done it, even though it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns. Coming out was both a curse and a blessing. A curse because my mind rebelled against me, and a blessing because the people I trusted offered me newfound energy to embrace my true self.
My Coming Out Story
It took me 28 years to fully accept my sexuality. After my emotional moment on the bridge, I slowly began to explore what I had missed all those years. I read everything I could find online about being gay and coming out, drawing strength from the stories of others.
Gradually, I realized it was perfectly normal to be gay, and I started accepting it in small steps. This process took about six months while I wrote my master’s thesis. I remember feeling excited yet leading a double life—acting one way at university while feeling another way inside.
Until then, it had been a lonely journey, as I hadn’t let anyone close. When friends asked about my love life, I’d say I was too busy to date, all while secretly chatting with men on Tinder. This helped demystify the gay community and ease my frustrations. I was curious if there was a man out there I’d be interested in—and there was!
The world had changed drastically since my dad’s harsh words about “bøsser.” It almost seemed like being gay had become cool, at least in Aarhus. Yet, I still felt mixed emotions about coming out to friends and family. I felt ashamed and terrified, losing 16 kg in a month from the stress! It felt like a point of no return—what if I regretted coming out?
I kept reminding myself that I needed to do this for my own sake, not for others. If people wouldn’t accept me, so be it. I didn’t know how to tell them, but “I’m gay, by the way” felt too casual. So, I rehearsed my coming out speech.
The first person I told was my best friend two months ago. She took it incredibly well. We cried, laughed, and cried again—it was perfect!
Two weeks later, I told my parents, which was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. As I broke down in tears, my father quickly reassured me that it was perfectly fine with him and expressed regret for his past comments. Thank goodness he didn’t want to shoot me! Instead, he said:
“Son, it would be the same to me if you told me you had become left-handed. I love you no matter what. You know that, right?”
In that moment, relief washed over me. It was possibly the most beautiful sentence I’ve ever heard.
The following month, I started dating a guy and quickly developed feelings for him. I thought, “Thank God, my heart works just fine!” Unfortunately, my feelings weren’t reciprocated, but talking to someone who had been through it all was comforting, even if I had to lie to my roommates about my whereabouts. Sure, I had been visiting my parents a lot that month! 😆
Telling my closest friends was easier; they accepted it immediately with hugs and lots of questions. Some seemed a bit shocked.
“Well, Casper! I’m actually very surprised, to be honest. You’re the most straight, gay man I know!”
I explained that being gay doesn’t mean fitting into a specific mold. Many stereotypes about homosexual men aren’t true. You don’t need to wear leather pants or makeup to be gay. It’s about personality, not just sexual preference.
Nothing really changed for me. I simply removed women from the equation and replaced them with men. This made the transition feel less intense than I expected. However, being gay will likely be something I continue to process throughout my life. It’s both a blessing and a burden I must embrace.
My Coming Out Poem
After coming out to my parents, I began writing a diary to express my thoughts—both good and bad. Later, I realized I was treating myself unfairly in my writing. I wouldn’t wish such self-talk on anyone. Coming out was both a curse and a blessing, but the negative aspects overshadowed the positives.
So, I decided to write a story that captured both my pain and pride in coming out. Articulating my feelings was challenging, so I ended up writing a poem. It became the perfect medium to express my journey, which I’d like to share with those interested.
I hope you can relate to it, and it’s okay if you disagree. We all experience things differently. One perspective can easily become a way of avoiding reality.
This poem reflects both the struggles and triumphs of my coming out journey—from a lack of self-acceptance to embracing my sexual identity. I hope it inspires you to be true to yourself. Remember, it’s never too late to come out. The struggles are worth it in the end. Trust me.
Last Thoughts
Today, I realize that nobody fits perfectly into this world, regardless of who they are or their sexual orientation. Sometimes, it feels like all my problems stem from my sexuality, but often they arise from the simple challenge of being a grown-up.
The world still operates with an ideal standard in mind, leaving many of us to follow behind from the moment we’re born. Just having a rainbow panorama at ARoS doesn’t solve the discrimination faced by minorities or ensure acceptance of non-heterosexuality in Aarhus. It doesn’t stop people from standing on a bridge to cry.
We must continue raising awareness about these issues and be grateful to those who have paved the way for us—including our LGBTQ+ ancestors.
