The above two questions at first do not seem related. But given a little thought, they are. This is not to say that my bad relationship with my dad is the reason I did not come out earlier, but it certainly contributed to things. There is certainly a lot more about why I did not come out that I cannot cover in this post.
When I was in the 6th grade I was left at home babysitting my younger brothers. I was always somewhat of a pyro and took this opportunity to play with some matches in the garage. Yes, I know this was a stupid thing to do, and knew it at the time. So in the mind of an 11 or 12 year old I made sure I was safe keeping a bucket of water and a fire extinguisher nearby. After playing with matches for a while I got bored cleaned everything up and put it away. However, as anyone who has lit a match knows they put off a very distinctive smell. This smell escaped my notice at that time.
My parents came home and immediately noticed the smell. After doing a quick check to make sure nothing was burning they searched for evidence and found a couple match sticks that I missed. This sent my dad over the edge. He picked me up and slammed me against the wall and held me there screaming at the top of his lungs for what felt like an eternity with my feet dangling off the ground. This is when our relationship permanently changed.
I am not saying that I should not have been yelled at and I am not saying that I necessarily blame my dad should be entirely blamed for his severe reaction, but he has a reputation for going to the extreme. For example at dinner one day he did not like how my brother was chopping his spaghetti. Therefore he exaggerated what he thought my brother was doing and flung spaghetti onto the ceiling in his anger. There have also been holes in walls and doors in every house we have lived in from when he has lost his temper. He never hit us, but he could spin up into a rage in seconds.
I also played soccer for a few years growing up. My dad played soccer in high school and college, therefore he decided to coach my team. He yelled from the sidelines the entire game every game to the extreme. We were not allowed to go out and play but were told exactly how to play every minute we were on the field, or at least that is how I felt. I quit soccer after three years because I could no longer handle him being the coach.
There are many more stories I could tell, but there is one final one that is the icing on the cake. Several years after the other stories being a horny teenager I found some pictures on the web. I also printed a couple of them to use at night. Unsurprisingly my parents found out, about me browsing the pictures on the web. After finding this out they sat me down and basically cut off my internet access. They asked me why I was looking at the pictures and not being ready to come out I explained that I was just curious. By this time I had forgotten about the printed ones. I understand how they handled this situation and it has nothing to do with my relationship with my dad.
About 6 months later my mom was flipping my mattress and found the printed pictures between my mattresses. As I said I had forgotten about them or I would have gotten rid of them. Well, that night my dad comes into my room, shows me the picture my mom found, and in a very condescending tone says “I am afraid to ask as I am afraid I am going to be disappointed. But based on these pictures I cannot think of any other reason you would not have gotten rid of them. I am afraid that you are gay. Are you?”
That conversation is one of the reasons I never came out. The way he asked the question to me sounded like if I said yes I was gay he would have thrown me out or sent me to therapy or something. I can and have forgiven him for most of the other stuff even if I have not told him. But that one question and how it was asked is something I have never forgiven him for. That one question led to bouts with depression, suicide attempts, and a lot of additional stress in my life. Can I forgive him someday? Maybe. Do I know when that may be? No.