“Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy yet.”
Over the last 22 years I’ve heard that line approximately… 118 times.
And you know what? Every guy who said that was right. I have finally found the right man.
His name is FirstGayMajorSportMaleAthlete, but I just call him Neo. After all, he is The One.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all the women from my past who’ve influenced me in some manner. Long before I was self-aware, Billie Jean King began paving the road my man and I stride down today. Martina Navratilova was unafraid to display the power and grace of muscles and was one of the first out athletes from whom I could draw hope after I came out. Sheryl Swoopes, Amélie Mauresmo, Missy Giove – all taught me success was not out of reach just because I’m gay. And Megan Rapinoe, who came out during an Olympic year, no less, and can inspire a new generation of young athletes. She made me feel so proud to be a long-time fan of the USWNT.
All those things are nice, really they are. But now I’ve finally got someone who matters.
There’s no turning back, either. No need for me to write wistful, hopeful posts lauding those who bravely come out while playing soccer. It’s just soccer. Not a man’s game like baseball. Or football. Or basketball. Or hockey.
And I won’t be wasting time blogging about Brittney Griner or Lori Lindsey, or hoping other athletes will come out. Why should they even bother? They all pale in comparison to my man’s instantaneous validation of my accomplishments and sense of pride. By his very existence, no one could shine as brightly or affect as many people as my man.
All this time. All these years. I was sure of what my heart needed to feel full. I was wrong.
But now I know who I am. With FirstGayMajorSportMaleAthlete in my life, I am complete.
And did I mention he’s filthy rich? Thanks, Nike!