I think one reason that I love National Coming Out Day is because of my view of what makes a hero. It’s not that I don’t see heroism in great acts; of course I do. But I also see heroism in smaller acts, including the courage that it takes to be honest and open about who you are even though that may come at a high emotional–and sometimes physical–price.
Since I make no secret of being a longtime straight ally and advocate of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered people, maybe it’ll surprise you that the first time someone came out to me, I didn’t handle it so well. I was eighteen. She lived on the same hall in my dorm and was one of a small circle of friends that formed among girls from different cities and backgrounds. I was so naive that I missed all the small insights she tried to give me, so that when she finally shared the information that she was a lesbian, I was taken completely by surprise and for a while, I put distance between us. It didn’t bother me that she was a lesbian; that was her business and had nothing to do with me. What bothered me was that she’d kept this essential truth about herself from me for as long as she did. I felt deceived by a friend–never a good feeling. And I felt like someone hadn’t trusted me, and it made me second-guess how I’d presented my friendship.
I was too young to understand that her coming out had nothing to do with ME and what I was ready to hear and willing to accept. And honestly, I’m not sure I learned this lesson even after years of relationships with other gay and lesbian friends. It ultimately hit home when a friend I’d known for more than a decade finally told me that he was gay. I’d always been relatively sure he was, though his efforts to hide it from me were painstaking. I didn’t get it; he knew that I had gay friends and was an AIDS caregiver to two gay men. Yet it took him so long to tell me the truth, and when he did, he was incredibly anxious. I mulled that over for quite some time before a light went on and I realized that his honesty had nothing to do with my acceptance, any more than my college friend’s honesty had.
Coming out is not about who hears it. It’s about who says it.
Any time we’re honest about who we are, we take a risk. We can meet rejection or indifference or ridicule. Being honest and facing that risk for something that most people don’t understand, or have been taught is wrong, requires even more courage. National Coming Out Day is a reminder to me of how brave people can be even when we’re feeling frail and vulnerable.
For everyone who has come out to your family, friends, coworkers, legislators, teachers, and medical professionals, thank you for your honesty and your courage. You’ve opened that door a little wider for the people who will be approaching it later with the same anxiety.
And for those who are on the receiving end of such honesty, I hope that you embrace your family and friends for who they are. To me, they are heroes.
your reaction to your college friend is interesting to me – someone else i know was all hurt that a guy she knew was gay and she didn’t know till recently.
i just didn’t understand why she was so upset about it. you explained it well tho.
i’ll never forget what my granny told me after she found out i was gay – she said, ‘i don’t care what your lifestyle (kinda funny to me) is, you’re still the same sweet granddaughter that i love.’ something so simple that should just be a given for anybody, but it was still great to hear. 🙂
Your granny is wise. =)
*teary-eyed*
You’re awesome.
A very long time ago, I wrote up the account of the conversation I had with my parents when I came out to them. Wish I’d had the foresight to save it. Thank you for writing this.
I love that you wrote this.
I had a friend, who I knew was gay, but she wasn’t dealing with it. She kept walking around saying “I’m hetero” as if it would make her become straight. I talked to her about it while we were in the Florida Keys. She said that denial was her lifestyle. I didn’t know how to help her, so I let her know I would be there for her.
A couple of years ago, she came into the Barnes and Noble, where I was hanging out, talking with my BF David. He worked there. She had this pretty red head with her. We hugged, and she introduced Shari as her wife. I almost cried. She had come out. I didn’t care for her family or friends, just her. I honestly can’t remember ever seeing her that happy. Even now when I think about that moment, meeting Shari, I still get tears in my eyes for my friend, Linda.
Thank you again for this.
I remember when I gave talks as the “Education/Outreach Coordinator” at the university GLB Centre (we eventually added a T), one of the things that came up time and time again was “the reaction.”
I remember at one point, being struck by something, and adding an impromptu note into my discussion to about 300 school counselors, teachers, and principals – many of whom had not chosen willingly to be there (that was not a fun group to talk to). I was talking about reacting to people coming out to you, and everyone had glazed their eyes right out.
I said, “There is also some responsibility for the person coming out to realize the unfairness of what they’re asking of the person they’re coming out to.”
A few people actually started to pay attention, so I went on.
Seriously, on some level, coming out to someone – and judging their reaction – is rather unfair. I remember spending hours prior to speaking to my first friends, and becoming nearly sick at the thought of telling them. When I finally blurted it out, one was incredibly bland in her reaction. I think she said, ‘Oh. Okay,’ shrugged, and kept talking about whatever she was talking about.
The other, a guy, got really uncomfortable, and we basically stopped being friends after that. Looking back, I realize that I spend hours thinking about something that I’d been agonizing over for years, and then gave this other person a few seconds to react in a way of which I approved.
It certainly gets easier. Now I don’t even realize when I’ve come out to someone who didn’t know unless they mention it. (I remember, recently, while giving someone a job interview, and asking them to sell me their favourite book, they picked a book loved, and I said, “Oh, my husband loved that one.” Later, they said, “I can’t believe you came out to me in an interview.” I didn’t actually remember doing it.) But it has always struck me as such a harsh moment for everyone concerned – the person coming out can have been agonizing and agonizing, and if they have, no reaction is enough. Quick acceptance has a kind of ‘What? That’s it?!’ to it, and anything less can be wounding. It seems only fair to give the other person at least a little while to think about it. Chances are the person coming out had at least a few years of pondering.
Sorry, I rambled. I meant to preface all of that with a hearty ‘thank-you’ and a mention of how awesome you are. Then I got all ‘Why, I remember when…’ and lost focus.
I think I’m getting old.
Yeah, well I enjoyed it! I don’t think you are “old” -not a bit.
Funny, everyone I have ever came out to, knew it already and was waiting for me to tell them.
When I came out to my brother he was so uncomfortable. I was stumbling for words. When I finally got it out he looked so relieved. Ha! He thought I was going to give him some BAD news. He thought I was going to tell him I had AIDS. He already knew I was gay (but I didn’t know he knew)
This is my little “ramble” in response. So ‘Nathan doesn’t have to feel so bad. After all, I AM old. (((grin)))
Why must you insist on touching my heart so often, Becky???
I blush to admit I’d never heard of “National Coming Out Day”, so I thank you very much for the link.
And really, just “hear, hear” to everything you said. Honesty can sometimes take a lot of courage.