National Coming Out Day

Flags, signs and rainbows abound at the downtown Fort Myers "Coming Out for Equality" Event

A week or so ago, I had promised to use my Facebook status message to further National Coming Out Day, today. But then it occurred to me: family members read my Facebook. People I knew in my small-town high school read my Facebook. Many of these people don’t know I’m bisexual. This also led me to consider the fact that this blog is public, and its link is published on my resume whenever I apply for a writing-related position.

But then, isn’t that what Coming Out Day is for? My close friends and family have known for almost ten years now. I came out for the first time about twelve years ago, when I finally realized what denial I’d been putting myself through for so very long. There are parts of my family – my own father, even – who would be less than understanding, or perhaps just write it off as unimportant because, after all, I married a man in the end, right? *eyeroll* As for future employers, yes, it is a risk. But do I want to work for someone who would reject me for what I express here?

I did, in the end, set my status accordingly. And I went off to church, wearing my rainbow tie-dye shirt. At this point, I was still waffling as to whether or not I should attend the Coming Out For Equality event happening post-church, but I was leaning towards not going. Until, that is, one of our speakers got up and told her story. There were hints of my own history there, particularly how we kept our true selves buried for so very long, well beyond the concept of denial. I knew then, I needed to be at the protest/rally/gathering, or whatever you want to call it. Her speech cried out to me, called me to action, and inspired me to face my fears.

"The Sky Didn't Fall on New England." One of my very favorite signs from Coming Out for Equality, depicting a lesbian wedding in MA.

Those who know me well will likely be impressed by this, knowing that I went to the event without my husband and child. I don’t go places by myself, without someone I know very well. But I did, today. I caught a ride with an acquaintance from church, while O brought the Bug home for his afternoon nap.

Not only did I come out on the Internet and come out for equality, I also came out of my shell.

Not Threatened

Like many Americans, I am elated at the results of last night’s Presidential election. I am proud to live in a country where we have proven that one does not need to be a rich, white male in order become President. I am proud to know that this is the world into which I brought a son – a world of hope and promise, not the bleak misery of the previous eight years.

However, even this monumental occasion has its dark side. California’s Prop 8, eliminating same-sex marriage, has passed. Can you imagine marrying someone and then having that marriage taken away from you? A ban on gay marriage is terrible enough, but to have it eliminated entirely – even retroactively – is unfathomable. And yet this is what homosexual couples in California have woken up to, today. Yesterday, they were happily married; today they are told their marriage is no longer valid because some the voters said so.

Why should this even be a question? What gives anyone the right to judge the definition of family? The most common arguments seem to be based in religion. The problem with this? Not everyone practices the same religion. Even those who do don’t practice it the same way. Not to mention, of course, that religion really has no place in state or federal policy in a country where we are free to practice any, all, or no religion. Such matters should be left to the individual, not forced upon a State or the Country at large.

"Support Same-sex Marriage" image from Cafe Press

Marriage vows are as strong or as weak as the couple who makes them. Their strength is not dependent upon who else has made a similar vow, nor on who else is allowed to make them. The vows are between the couple and their officiant, and perhaps their God (using this term as all-inclusive, whatever name may be given) if that is what they have chosen. The only ones who can weaken, or cheapen, or indeed unsanctify your wedding vows are you and your spouse.

As a member of a monogamous, heterosexual marriage, I am standing up to say: My marriage is in no way threatened by anyone else’s.

(Editor’s Note: Apparently previously married couples will, in fact, remain married.)

Out, But Not Advertising

Since my previous post on orientation, I’ve done a lot of thinking. Maybe I’m not as “out” as I think I am. Or rather, maybe I’m not as completely comfortable with my sexuality as I thought I was. Someone who is fully secure doesn’t need to advertise, nor even to ask the questions I raised in that previous post. They just accept it as who they are, and that’s that. I came out late in life, and have honestly not had much exposure to other bisexual or gay women. As such, it’s still somewhat awkward for me to find my footing.

On the other hand, I’ve changed my perspective somewhat as well. I no longer feel like I need a way to be more publicly “out” than I am. After all, what difference does it make? My sexuality is really no one’s business but my own. While I’m not at all ashamed of my attraction to women, and I would not hesitate to support GLBT causes in every way I can, I also don’t need it tattooed on my forehead to show everyone where I stand. Nor do I advertise my spirituality, political leanings, or the color of my underwear. I’m willing to discuss any or all of the above with almost anyone who asks, but I don’t carry signs to label myself.

How these two piece tie together is this: as I grow and change as a person, as I gain confidence, and as I become more comfortable in all that I am, my orientation will feel less awkward. I will feel less of a need to both hide it and to advertise it. Instead, I will just be.

Social Visibility

A few weeks ago, I was walking into a chorus rehearsal and was stopped by one of my section-mates. We made idle chatter, and as we approached the rehearsal space, she asked me if it was weird for me, being one of the few straight members of our chorus. It’s easy to understand why she would have made that assumption: I’m a woman married to a man. If I were involved with a woman, people would assume me to be gay. Being bisexual means walking that middle ground, and unless you happen to also be polyamorous (which I am not, though I confess to some poly-curiosity over the years), there is going to be a certain degree of polarity.

It’s difficult to be “out” as a monogamous bisexual. A friend of mine has a t-shirt with a slogan she borrowed from me: bisexual, not invisible. Without advertising on a shirt, though, how does one avoid the assumption of heterosexuality? With my circle of friends, I’m very out. My husband and I have been known to check out women together (and he has no objection to me looking at other men, either). But there are no obvious clues to someone I’ve just met.

I would like to be more generally out. I’ve participated in pride parades – but then, so has my straight husband. I am a member of a largely-gay chorus, but there are enough straight members that the assumption cannot necessarily be made there, either. Short of wearing rainbows while I walk hand-in-hand with my husband, I’m not sure how to get the point across.