Diary
Today's the Day
The night I came out to my parents.
It started with a group chat message.
In our family group chat, my parents were deep in discussion about setting me up with someone. A girl, born in 1996, working for Texas Instruments, from Wenzhou. They were talking so seriously, asking if I wanted her WeChat, saying we could just be friends first.
I felt annoyed. But at the same time, I felt strangely relieved. Like it wasn't a big deal anymore.
I've rehearsed coming out to my parents in my head like a hundred times. I kept postponing the moment. First it was: after I finish my PhD, I'll come out. Then: after I land a job, I'll come out. Then: once I find a boy I want to marry, I'll come out. When scrolling social media, whenever I saw anything suggesting that being gay is not a bad thing, I'd save it. My collection was scattered everywhere: Tim Cook came out as gay, Secretary Bessent is gay, Secretary Buttigieg is gay, even the prime minister of the Netherlands Rob Jetten is gay. Also videos about how parents accept their gay kids. I even told myself I'd wait until I go back to China at the end of this year to tell them face to face.
But last night, something in me just said: today's the day.
I didn't prepare a booklet like I once planned. I didn't overthink. I just sent them a long text, telling them both at once who I really am. I included a few examples, like Tim Cook, plus a 2018 People's Daily article saying homosexuality is normal and should be met with tolerance.
I'm really proud I told them together. Most of my friends who came out told their moms first, and processing news like that alone must be brutal. I didn't want either of them to have to carry this alone.
After I sent it, I couldn't sleep. I tossed until 3 or 4am. At around 4, I finally checked my phone. My dad had replied: Get some sleep. Health comes first. I was shocked. I tried to go back to sleep, but at 6am I couldn't hold it anymore and called them. My mom picked up.
Honestly, her reaction was not what I expected. I thought she would be the open-minded one who would just accept it. But she was surprised, and her first question was how she was supposed to explain this to other people. She said she didn't want to talk about it publicly. I told her that's totally fine, we can decide together as a family, we don't have to tell anyone if we don't want to. We can even say I'm perfectly happy being single, or that the new generation has a mind of its own and you don't interfere.
My dad, who I thought would be more traditional and tougher, didn't worry about what others think at all, at least not verbally. He was just worried about whether I would have kids, whether I would end up alone. I told him I will have a partner, and I will have kids in the future.
There was no crying (well, actually there was, when I said that as a son I have never once made you worry, and this is the one hard thing I'm asking of you: that accepting who your son really is is part of being parents), no fighting. Everyone was just calm. After an hour-long talk, it ended with them saying they respect my decision.
I told them: I know you need time. I've had 20 years to digest this, you've only had a few hours. This is the last milestone for me, to let you know the real me. I only live once. I can't spend my whole life guarding this secret, living against my will.
I thought this would be the hardest thing ever. I pictured my dad being really mad, my mom crying alone. I didn't expect it to feel this light. Let me wrap this up with share the message I posted in my story:
