Mike Tomes
In the early 2000s, Myspace was the place to be—before Facebook and Instagram dominated our social lives. It was where we shared music, posted our thoughts, and connected with others. By 2008, Facebook was on the rise, and I was about to leave Myspace behind—feeling like the “it girl” of the digital world was quickly becoming a thing of the past. That was, until he slid into my DMs.
Who was this guy, SHELDON, from Cynthiana, KY, asking me about things to do in Louisville? We didn’t have any mutual friends, and I had no idea what brought him to my page. Was it a scam? With my guard up, I decided to entertain his message. After all, I knew my city well and loved sharing my favorite spots. I gave him recommendations for places to eat, landmarks to visit, and things to see during his archery competition. I never imagined that simple exchange would turn into something so much more.
Our messages turned to texts, then to long, late-night phone calls. We would talk for hours—3, 4, sometimes even longer. These calls had to happen late at night, as I was still hiding my truth of being a gay man. Those calls also became a welcome distraction for me, especially since my father was in the final stages of his battle with brain cancer. They were my escape, helping me forget the pain, even if just for a little while. After months of talking, we finally met in person when he stopped in Louisville on his way to Chicago. Our first date was perfect—until I got pulled over for running a stop sign and then got arrested for a warrant over a 3-year-old unpaid speeding ticket! But we still laugh about it.
As quickly as he arrived, I asked him to be my boyfriend—my very first. Little did I know at the time; he would be the one I’d spend my life with. He moved in with my mom, brother and I as a “friend” under the pretense of needing a place to stay. He “slept” on a decoy twin mattress that laid next to my bed. In the months that followed, he was there for me in ways I never expected, especially as my father passed away just four months after our first date. My father had always been the glue in our family, particularly since I wasn’t out to them, but I think he knew and he was why they accepted me, but Sheldon became my rock in a time of unimaginable loss.
We eventually moved into our first home together, starting a new chapter and learning more about each other than we could have imagined. It wasn’t always easy compromises were made, and we had to navigate our differences. But the more we learned to love, compromise, and grow together, the stronger our bond became. It was also during this time that we both came out to our families. His family embraced me, though my own, besides my mother and brother, wasn't as accepting. Still, we were ready to start our life as an official couple.
Just two years later, we faced another tragedy: Sheldon’s dad passed away from pneumonia. It was hard to process, losing both of our fathers so young. But that heartache only drew us closer. Then, in 2014, Sheldon lost his mother, Felecia, in a tragic car accident. Losing both of his biological parents before the age of 30 was devastating, and I did everything I could to support him through it. It felt like we had been dealt more than our fair share of grief, but through it all, we leaned on each other, growing stronger in the face of so much loss.
In June 2015, when same-sex marriage was finally legalized in the U.S., we celebrated with our community. That same year, in October, while traveling in Paris, Sheldon proposed. I said yes without hesitation. We married in 2016 at The Louisville Palace, surrounded by 350 of our favorite people. My Southern Baptist family refused to attend, but I felt an overwhelming amount of love from those who were there—especially my cousin Mikie and his wife Tam, who understood the tribulation of being judged for your love based on the religious background you chose. That day, I truly understood the meaning of chosen family.
\Living as a married couple was everything I had hoped for—official, happy, and full of love. But in 2017, another tragedy struck: I lost my mother to a stroke and asphyxiation. I was devastated, she was one of not many left within my family that supported and loved me for me and without limitations. Losing both of our biological parents under such tragic circumstances felt like a weight we couldn’t bear. But through it all, Sheldon and I stood strong together, each of us taking turns being the pillar for the other. These losses could have broken us, but instead, they brought us closer. We learned that in love, we had an unshakeable foundation—one that would hold us through the darkest of times.
Looking back, I realize that the strength of our relationship has been forged in fire. We’ve faced grief, loss, and unimaginable challenges, but each trial has only made our bond stronger. Our love is built on resilience, trust, and the unwavering support we give each other. In the end, it’s not just about surviving the storms, but about growing together in the face of them. Through all the heartache and joy, one thing is certain—we are stronger together than we could ever be apart.