Breaking the Silence

Everyone has heard about the recent LGBTQ youth suicides – far, far too many of late. Everywhere we turn, there is talk of bullying and its harmful effects on our children. As a parent, this terrifies me. As a human being, it disgusts me. I remember what it was like to be bullied and teased, and that was before anyone (myself included) even knew I was bisexual. For me, it was about being lazy, or not conventionally attractive, or fat. But what it comes down to – in my relatively minor case, and in the more extreme cases we’ve been hearing about in the media – is the idea that different is bad. It sickens me that there is this kind of hatred in the world, that people cannot accept someone else’s sexuality (or whatever else makes them “different”) as being simply part of who they are. Instead, we are judged, mocked, threatened, belittled, and sometimes beaten… just for being who we are. I don’t care what your belief system is – what could possibly make anyone think it is acceptable to do this to another human being? There was a song used in a presentation at church this morning, one which has resonated with me since the very first time I heard (and indeed sang) it – “Everything Possible,” written by Fred Small.

“You can be anybody you want to be. You can love whomever you will. You can travel any country where your heart leads, and know I will love you still. You can live by yourself, you can gather friends around. You can choose one special one. And the only measure of your words and your deeds will be the love you leave behind when you’re done. There are girls who grow up strong and bold. There are boys quiet and kind. Some race on ahead, some follow behind, some go in their own way and time. Some women love women, some men love men. Some raise children, some never do. You can dream all the day, never reaching the end of everything possible for you. Don’t be rattled by names, by taunts, by games, but seek out spirits true. If you give your friends the best part of yourself, they will give the same back to you.”

Those are powerful lyrics. My partner* and I strive to raise our child with this sort of support and love, and I can’t imagine it any other way… but the fact of the matter is that it is another way for many LGBTQ youth. That has never been clearer than in recent weeks with the tragedies that have made the news. But how many have gone before these very publicized deaths? How many other lives have been lost before, or since? We can never count them, can never know for certain how many spirits have been broken beyond the point of repair. Today, I am breaking the silence and using my voice to show support. I am stepping up to say, “You can be anybody that you want to be. You can love whomever you will.”

* As urged by my minister, Rev. Allison Farnum in today’s sermon, I am going to start trying to use the word “partner” in place of “husband.”

Where Do You Draw The Line?

Yesterday I was having a discussion with a friend of mine about sexuality. In jest, I asked her to be my online girlfriend, and she responded, “Aren’t we already?” I told her she’d really given me something to think about: where is the line drawn between friendship and … something more?

My husband is my best friend, but he is also my life partner, the father of my son, and my lover. With us, there is nowhere to draw a line because all the roles blend together, each one waxing and waning as needed over time.

My closest female friend is not only friend, but also sister and would-be-lover if circumstances were different. We’ve both accepted that that is where our relationship sits, and it’s comfortable there. A definition has never really been necessary.

I’ll admit, I’ve only had one “official” relationship with another woman, but there have been countless crushes, and more than one case of falling in love. It bears mentioning that almost all of my closest female friends are also bisexual, so that complicates the question further. There is frequent flirting, but I’ve never asked, or thought to ask, the “where do we stand?” question in any of those situations.

So what does make the difference? Is it a matter of sex, alone? I don’t think it’s that simple. I’ve been in relationships where there was no sex, and I’ve had sex where there was no relationship. I don’t think sleeping together is the be-all and end-all.

It’s not about “I love you,” either. If someone is close to me, if they have reached that level of trust (not an easy feat, I’ll grant you) with me, I will use those words openly and often. They have too many diverse meanings to be stuffed into a single box.

If it boils down to nothing more than a mutual attraction, well then… I have a LOT of potential-girlfriends out there because God knows I can harbor a crush!

I guess, because I am in a monogamous relationship, I haven’t really needed to think about where that line is drawn – not for about nine years now. But it makes me curious what other folks think.

Where do you draw the line between friendship and dating?

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.

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.)

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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.