In honor of National Coming Out Day and the fact that I feel like this conversation has come up a lot in my life lately, I’d like to share my story and thoughts on coming out.
There are people that would say that I’m still in the closet because I’ve never had a sit down conversation with people about my sexuality. When you think about it, you could really say the same about straight people. They’ve never sat down with their mom and dad and told them they were straight. They just are. For myself personally, I don’t imagine myself in/out/next to/on top of/to the left/right of a closet in any way. (If I did have one, it would totally be like Cher’s in Clueless and design my outfits for me digitally everyday.)
At almost 30 years old, I’ve had a lot of things happen to me in my life. I’ve moved a lot, lost touch with people, forced people out and said goodbyes that I wasn’t ready for. I have also learned that the people that matter will stick around and, if they don’t, they were never worth it in the first place. In experiencing these things, I’ve learned to be selective with whom I keep close to me.
All of my long-term relationships have been with men (for the sake of a general term). I’ve never had the talk with my family and friends that I am also attracted to women, but I’ve never felt the need to. It’s not because I’m ashamed or I’m trying to hide it. It’s the fact that I feel like they already know through my other actions. I’m always on the front line for gay rights, I fly a rainbow flag at my desk, and I’m generally immersed in LGBT culture anywhere I go. Over the past years, I’ve grown very close with my dad. Even though we’ve never outright discussed it, he’ll call and ask me “How’s the love life? Any boys? Any girls?”
That being said, if I were to date a woman, I honestly with all my heart believe that no one would be shocked. If they reacted poorly, I have no time for them anyway.
There was a nasty rumor at my high school when I was around 14 or 15 that I was a lesbian. I got teased A LOT for a few weeks. Particularly I remember some boys in the library shoving a magazine in my face with a half naked woman and asking me if I liked what I saw. Luckily, rumors have short life spans, but it gave me an understanding of what all LGBT kids go through at school. Now I support charities like the Trevor Project and It Gets Better. Because it does.
I attempted to label myself at 17 years old as bi. I remember sitting at the Mexican restaurant with my friends at the time (who may or may not be reading this) and telling them that I was bi. They all looked at me, called me a liar and continued their conversation. That was tough. Friends in high school are delicate enough of a situation, and, being from a small town, I decided to let it go.
Being an organizational freak, it is my nature to label and organize and put things into boxes, but as I’ve grown older, my sexuality has been a large exception to that rule. As a femme girl as one would say, it’s very easy for society to see me as the norm (straight). There are some girls that would think of this as offensive and close minded. Not that I’m trying to oppose them, but I prefer to think of it as my secret weapon. My friend and I were discussing this morning the phenomenon in our society that knowledge is power, and how, sometimes, knowing things that other people don’t can benefit you greatly. My looks allow me to be a chameleon of sorts and conform when necessary. Sometimes I like to think of it as if I’m infiltrating the enemy.
In any case, labeling myself as bi/pan/queer/lesbian won’t add any benefit to my life as I see it. And, lesbihonest, the only people that should be concerned with my sexuality are myself and the person I’m sleeping with.
To sum everything up, my life up until now has been great. I’m glad that I’ve never labeled myself. Love is love, and you shouldn’t have to define yourself by preconceived societal notions (if you’ve ever seen me at Home Depot, you would know I don’t do that). I wish this for everyone. I hope that in fifty years, kids won’t have to come out to their parents, and they can bring their boyfriend or girlfriend home without fear of retribution or shame. Let’s tear the closet down and let some light in.
