This National Coming Out Day, an ambassador from Just Like Us talks about the why we need to prioritise mental health during the coming out journey
BY RUSH MITTAL, IMAGE BY GETTY VIA CANVA
Coming out of the closet is a quintessential milestone in many queer journeys. It’s more than just a phrase; it’s a powerful metaphor that encapsulates the experience of revealing one’s sexual orientation or gender identity.
For many of us, this moment looms large as a daunting hurdle, one of the many inherent challenges of queerness.
Thankfully, as families and society become more open, and with LGBT+ representation increasing in the media, the grip of heteronormativity is loosening. In turn, the societal pressure on LGBT+ youth to “come out” is starting to diminish. One can hope that in the near future, no young, questioning child will ever feel ashamed or pressured to label or explain themselves — simply living in their truth without fear.
Growing up queer and Asian, I had no mainstream representation to look up to.
There were no examples from which I could borrow the language to express who I was. While there’s no universal timeline for coming out, the absence of representation held me back, keeping me in the closet far longer than I intended.
Now, a year after coming out to the most important people in my life — and several years after taking that first step — I reflect on the misconceptions I held about the process of coming out. Misconceptions that kept me questioning in silence for so long.
When I finally decided to come out to my family, I felt overwhelmed by the weight of just three words: “I am queer.” Those words seemed to hold my fate, the potential to either deepen my relationship with my parents or shatter the fragile bubble I’d created for myself, in which I was out only to my friends at university. I wondered, why couldn’t I just say it? After all, it’s just a sentence.
But it wasn’t just a sentence.
In my experience, coming out is not a one-time event, but an ongoing series of open conversations. It’s a journey that takes time — not just for me, but for my loved ones as well. If it took me years to embrace my queerness, how could I expect my parents to come to terms with it instantly.
Even a year later, I still consider myself to be in the process of coming out, helping my family navigate this new understanding of gender and sexuality.
One of the biggest challenges I faced was offering patience and understanding to my family. I wanted to give them time to learn, to adjust, and to support them in processing the reality I was entrusting them with.
They come from a generation with even less representation and far more discrimination against queer individuals. Accepting that their child is queer and non-binary was not something they were ever prepared for. Yet, despite my initial impatience, I’ve found clarity, confidence, and pride in my queerness through time and a willingness to let them find their footing, navigating the reality of having a queer child and what that means for our future.
In the midst of these conversations, it has been extremely important to me to know that I control these conversations.
I have them on my own timeline, and I have the autonomy to express myself the way I find confidence in doing, not in a way that is digestible to those around me.
It is natural for your loved ones to be curious about your identity when trying to be supportive, however, this can feel invasive at times. From that first coming out conversation, I have always maintained that I can decide when and how much to share, and that I can withdraw from any discussions that feel overwhelming.
This has been a game-changer in protecting my emotional energy, especially during heavier conversations that can be quite taxing.
By maintaining control and putting my mental health first, I’ve come to realise that coming out is not just about sharing who I am with others, but also about nurturing growth and pride in my queerness.
Rush is an ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBT+ young people’s charity. Just Like Us needs LGBT+ ambassadors aged 18-25 to speak in schools – sign up now.
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