REGRET

This morning I saw this post on Gay Fathers Worldwide, a Facebook support group for gay dads. I will keep the name of the author anonymous, but what he wrote was so powerful, I needed to share. Every word is something we’ve all felt or experienced.

Please read and understand why coming out later in life is so incredibly difficult for us.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I haven't posted for a while, have been going through a lot.

Trying to process all the huge changes in my life and put into words what is going through my mind.

This poem is a reflection of where I am at. It's a picture of a fractured man, with hopes of seeing himself as whole.”

REGRET

I came out,

and the world came down,

and now I stand in the ashes,

wondering if honesty was a mistake.

If I had stayed quiet,

maybe I’d still have a home,

a marriage,

a place where I belonged,

even if it wasn’t really mine.

Regret isn’t just pain.

It’s punishment.

It whispers that I caused this,

that the weight on my chest

is of my own making.

I miss the safety,

even if it was a lie.

I miss being held,

even if I wasn’t seen.

I miss belonging,

even if I was invisible there.

People think I regret being gay.

But it isn’t that.

I regret the loss.

I regret the silence that broke,

the anger that followed,

the love that didn’t survive the truth.

I jumped from a burning building,

and I haven’t landed yet.

And from this distance

even the fire looks warm.

Maybe I should have stayed.

Maybe the price was too high.

Maybe being myself

wasn’t worth the wreckage.

Or maybe

maybe the regret isn’t about the truth.

Maybe I’m mourning what it cost me

to finally speak it.

And maybe one day

when the smoke clears

I won’t be wishing to go back,

only forward.

But today

I hurt.

And today

I regret.

And that is real.