Coming out is a highly personal process. As the community celebrates National Coming Out Day on Oct. 11, as well as LGBT History Month all throughout October, it’s important to remember that coming out is a process — and that it’s different for everyone.
For some, there is no “coming out” per se, as they always were (always are) out. They have always been sure of their sexual orientation, and of the path they are choosing. For others, coming out is a never-ending process, much like self-discovery is a never-ending process. That’s not to say that this latter group is unsure of their orientation, but that they are continually discovering themselves and their truth.
Coming out is about owning one’s truth, knowing who you are and what you want. It’s about being honest with yourself, your family, your friends and loved ones, your colleagues, your classmates, your teammates.
My own path to coming out has been long and winding. Growing up, I always was different, in myriad ways. I didn’t fit in at my all-girls’ Catholic high school: I wasn’t Catholic, I wasn’t part of the sport cliques, I wasn’t popular. I was an honor student. I wasn’t allowed to date, so I didn’t develop “normal” male-female relationships. Dating boys was rebellious, so I did that.
I remember knowing about gays and lesbians (defending them even), but not knowing anyone who was out until I started working in high school. By the time I reached college, I had had several crushes on girls (friends, coworkers, bosses) and came out as bi. I still had a boyfriend, but owned that I thought girls were hot.
Being bi meant walking in two worlds — and having to come out constantly. When I was with my husband (now my ex), I had to explain that I was not straight and that I was in a poly relationship. When I was with women, I had to explain that I was not a lesbian.
And then I fell hard for a woman. This wasn’t a crush, wasn’t something I could dismiss or control. It was far different from any relationship I’d ever had with a guy, from anything I’d ever felt for a guy. For once, I didn’t hold myself in reserve or hold myself back. For once, this was something I wanted, not just something I could tolerate or be OK with.
Owning how I felt and who I was threw my world into utter chaos: leaving my husband (there were many reasons there, but this one I couldn’t hope to change), moving, sorting through what was over and what was beginning. It was probably the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my life.
And the best.
I’ve told my truth to you. Who are you going to tell your truth to?