Let's see... Where do I even begin?

I guess we'll start back when I was a teenager. I spent a good amount of time trying to figure out my exact sexual orientation. I had dated girls, but I couldn't help being drawn to males. At about age 17, I realized that I was, in fact, gay. Fear of how my friends and family would react to the news led me to the conclusion that I would probably never be comfortable in my own skin.

I'd spent the next few years utilizing the internet and applications, notably Grindr, to fulfill my burning urge. I never had a visible profile picture in fear of being discovered by someone, and my bio always clearly stated that I was, in fact "DL." (Cringe, I know.) This worked for a while, until I realized both my fear of, and desperate longing to have a meaningful relationship.

Fast forward to age 24. Due to an incident at a party being held at the house I shared with a few friends, I was forced to come out to them. They accepted me with open arms, and I felt great, because this was the beginning of me finally being able to embrace who I was.

A few short months later, I was at a very low point in my life and longed for a companion. I was still fearful of going out to meet guys, so I ditched Grindr and created an account on Tinder, because it seemed more about dating. After a few days I'd been chatting with a very cute, seemingly nice guy who I was very interested in dating.

After a few instances of me chickening out, I finally went to meet him at a local bar. We hit it off immediately and began dating regularly. Not long after, we became exclusive. I had very specific rules about him tagging me on social media, and the places we could hang out. At first, he didn't seem to mind.

After a couple of months, he began "forgetting" and tagging me in pictures and posts on Facebook. I would immediately untag myself and remind him of the possibilities of what could happen if my parents saw. This happened a few more times, until one drunken night, I didn't get to the picture fast enough. It consisted of us being arm-in-arm with the caption reading: "Night out with the BF," followed by two emoji's with heart eyes.

My mom was repeatedly calling my phone, and I was too terrified to uncover what was on the other end of the line. Eventually, my now ex-boyfriend talked me into answering. My mother was livid and made sure to inform me that the whole family was talking about it.

I arrived at work the next morning and was greeted with curiosity and surprise by my coworkers. They were all talking about it as well, in a much more light-hearted capacity. Luckily I worked in a very LGBTQ friendly environment, so it was a good feeling, almost like with my roommates but on a much larger scale.

I began to introduce my friends to my boyfriend and we dated for several months, until the relationship ended on bad terms. My parents never had any interest in meeting him and to this day do not want to hear about my dating/love life.

In the end, I can't say I hate him for outing me. I am much more comfortable now and able to stand proud in my community. I'm very grateful for that. On the other hand, it would have been nice to make the judgment call when I was truly ready, and I would probably be in better standing with my family had I been able to tell them myself instead of them finding out via the internet.