January 19, 2021

Words by Lee Cary

I don’t do it as often as I probably should, but sometimes I let myself stop to think. I think about how I grew up ashamed of the person I was. I think about the paralyzing fear I had of someone finding out I am gay. I think about how far I’ve come.

All those thoughts flooded my mind as I stood baseline while the Philadelphia 76ers and Brooklyn Nets were warming up for their game later that night. It was February 20, but more importantly, it was Pride Night.

Everywhere I looked, there were rainbow colors. The electronic boards that run the circumference of the building. The jumbotron and scorer’s table. The lapel pins every staff member had on. The shirt former NBA player Jason Collins was wearing, while he sat next to me.

None of it was an accident. It took months of planning, meeting and preparing to get the team to this point. But it didn’t compare to the years it took me to be comfortable standing on that court as a proudly out, gay man.

I never expected to be in a position where I was organizing Pride Night games and events for a major professional sports team. I never expected to share my story outwardly in the hopes of helping others experiencing similar struggles.

When I say I was deeply in the closet, I mean I was back behind the snow boots in the middle of summer deep in the closet. I had convinced myself I had to be straight. That I would wake up one day and magically be interested in women. And if that didn’t work, then I would just never get married. There were no other options. 

I tried to be someone I wasn’t. I was constantly asking myself, “What would a straight person do in this situation?” And, “How can I act more straight – is that even possible?” It was like I was studying for a role I could never play.

It wasn’t until I met my boyfriend, Zack, that I could no longer pretend. I reached the point where I physically couldn’t be in the closet and live my life at the same time. Something had to give. And it did. 

At age 22, I pushed those snow boots out of the way and came out.

Everyone’s coming out journey is different. It’s easy and painless for some. Others, it’s not. My experience was difficult. I lost a relationship with my parents and struggled to find who I was. But even in the darkest days, I had people who supported me. Even if it felt like I was alone, and my world was ending, it wasn’t. Someone was there to pick me up, whether I knew that at the time or not.

I became stronger by reading the experiences of those who came out before me and had the courage to share their stories. Especially those in sports, since it was a language I understood and related to. Like when Jason Collins publicly came out through a Sports Illustrated cover story in 2013. 

I had no idea seven years after he wrote his article that I would be standing next to him courtside at an NBA game. Both of us opting to wear rainbow shirts rather than a traditional button-down. Both of us proud of who we are.

Jason was about to be introduced in front of 20,000 fans and ring the ceremonial Liberty Bell – a staple to start each 76ers game. I couldn’t help but think about the importance of that moment and what it meant. That a kid stuck in the closet like I was could see it and not feel as alone. It makes the journey worth it.