I read an article by a man who was disowned by his parents at the age of eighteen. He spent a difficult summer living on the streets of New Orleans, and then he called his grandmother who took him in.

I went through a dark time a couple of weeks ago. I was remembering being a teenager. I really did want to come out, but in the late 70s, there simply was no one for me to look to for guidance. There were no out celebrities other than Elton John. There was only Billy Crystal on Soap playing a gay character. There was literally nothing else to look to to tell me that I could come out and be OK.

When my parents disowned me in January of this year, I understood that my dad was deadly serious when he threatened to kick me out if I was gay as a teenager. I’ve been fantasizing about what would have happened. The reality is that I likely would have ended up on the streets as a hustler and would be dead of AIDS long ago.

But I wanted to come out. I tried. I began to lightly rebel, and I was looking for acceptance of that rebellion. When the parents of a good friend told him to stop spending time with me during that phase, I quit rebelling. I reverted to the firm closet.

My thoughts are all over the place this morning. My emotions are in turmoil.

I did tarot for myself, and in one group in the spread I use, I got three cards all meaning victory. I don’t feel victorious at the moment. I feel like a mess.

(I read tarot professionally. If you want a reading, contact me. It’s not cheap, but I’m good.)