LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Come Out, Come Out Where Ever You Are |
by Sal Seeley |
"The goal is not to tell for the sake of telling, but not to hide. The more people you can find and be honest with, the better you'll feel." Barney Frank, U.S. Congressman. For me, coming out was a matter of awkward circumstance, not a planned event. I got caught. Although embarrassing, it made my transition from straight-boy imposter to homosexual quick and not as painful as it could have been if I'd waited for "the right time"whenever that is. I suppose my experience could be an analogy to getting smashed by a tank while skipping through a war zone looking for butterflies, as opposed to dying a slow and horrible death as a result of tiny razor blades being shoved under my fingernails a millimeter at a time. Not the most admirable way to come out but, hey, I could have fared worse. Since I have little desire to share the details, all I'll say is that I was in no position to deny that I was a gay man. The "he's my best friend" line wouldn't have workednot in a million years. So I just got dressed and admitted it. And that's when my life changed. The second my bedroom door opened, I knew I didn't have to lie anymorenot to myself and not to the people I loved most in the world. And while the three weeks that followed those two days contained some of the most frightening and desperate hours of my life, the moment I said out loud "I'm gay" was the most liberating moment of my life. I was 24 and felt a huge chunk of the shame fly out of the door behind my panic-stricken boyfriend. I was out. When I think about the people I know who come out much older than I did, the people who still aren't out, and all those kids who are still trying to figure out what's "different" about them, I feel extremely lucky. I won't spend the rest of my 20s or 30s in an agonizing search for the right words and rehearsing lines I'd say to my family. I never considered running away to a different city where no one would know me. I never married in an attempt to change myself, and I never thought suicide an alternative to honesty. But the only reason I never did those things is because I woke up one day feeling horny, not particularly brave. The day that my parents found out I was gay and when I had to admit it to be true was the worst and best day of my life. I thought that such an announcement that I was gay, would not only break my parents' hearts, but also completely ruin our relationship. I held on to the thought that my parents might still love me if I told them the truth, but it was a tiny light of hope at the end of a most horrible and lonely tunnel. While I'm happy to write that my family continued to love me, I know that some kids aren't that lucky. Gay teens get kicked out of their homes every day; others run away. And who could blame them? I'm sure it sucks to be shunned or beaten by the people who gave them lifeespecially when something as non-threatening as love is at the root of their so-called evil. Those kids learn early that they can't be responsible for the actions of others, no matter how loud the blame or how hard the punches. And in an honorable twist of fate, they are the kids who often become the loudest adult voices of gay pride because they recognize the importance of truth and know firsthand what's at stake. They might tell you, if you're gay, your life won't work if you don't admit it, at the very least, to yourself. If you believe that living for and by the rules of someone elsemortal or divineis better than living a life of self-awareness and honesty, you're cheating yourself and everyone around you. What you think is working for you now might be something similar to livingin other words, you functionbut it's hardly living with integrity. I believe no queer will enjoy an existence stunted by deception, no matter how well-intentioned he might be. The point is, we only get one shot at this life, and I suggest we experience it awake. That said, I'm not suggesting you tell everyone in the world that you're gay. That would be very, very bad advice. Just because my parents knew early that I was a homosexual doesn't mean that I used that as an excuse to rent a billboard. I know that not everyone will be as tolerant as my family. I very carefully chose who I told and when I told them. A combination of good judgment and an ability to follow my gut instinct helped me to make sound choices, most of the time. Naturally, there were people I told whose responses didn't meet my expectations, who disapproved, and who, at worst, wanted to harm me. But those are the people I didn't, and still don't, want in my life. Now I don't care who knows. And that's because I refuse to deny the truth or hide. Besides, I've learned that most of the people I've told don't give a shit that I'm gay. They're much more concerned with who I am as a person. They care as much about who I sleep with as I do about whom they sleep with. And that's the way I want it to be. Even though being queer today isn't uncomplicated or without risk, it's a hell of a lot safer than it was in the '70s. Most of us will survive our gayness despite the difficulties and the ass-holes with archaic opinions, fat fists and weapons in our midst. And that's because for every jerk with a small mind, there's a hundred others ready and willing to combat his ignorance. So, if you're thinking about coming outto yourself, or even to one personyou have my support and the support of millions of others who are already out and don't regret it. Living out is no party every step of the way. I'd be a liar if I said that shame hadn't come back and tried to bite me since I first came out. That, I think, is because shame, like an annoying fly at a picnic, keeps buzzing around no matter how many times we try to kill it. The difference is, once you're out, you have a bigger fly swatter and much better aim. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 14, Oct. 20, 2000. |