Lizzie teases me about my need for privacy. Which probably sounds pretty funny coming from someone writing here on the Interwebs. But anyhow, says I only share things if asked for. In writing. Filled out in triplicate. And only then, when served with a FOIA form. And a subpoena.
I never thought I was quite *that* bad.
Until my business went out in an email — complete with a pic — Tuesday. To the 100 or so people we work with. And to their spouses. And to friends in other states.
Yeow! I’m supposed to be the one asking questions. This is freaking. Me. Out.
I hadn’t realized all the different layers of veils I wear around everyone. I know I try to control the flow of information. I’ll show an ankle to one person, an elbow to another. But until Tuesday, I’d never realized the extent of the secrecy. I mean, I can’t even break down who knows what. There are almost as many variables as people. And that doesn’t even count the further information that we’ll soon be leaving as I start law school.
We’ve got friends who know about the ceremony but not the official knot-tying, and vice-versa.
I’ve got one friend I’m pretty sure has stopped talking to me because she probably suspects I’m gay, but I don’t know for sure. Try piercing through all *those* layers of secrecy and mind-reading.
There’s my mother, who I’ve recently decided to start talking to again. Sort of. She doesn’t know. She barely knows I’m going back to school. In fact, she hasn’t even called me to confirm whether I still have a job, as some very bad news about my company made news this week. News I think she’s likely aware of. But I’m not sure. Because, well, we’re barely talking.
And then there’s my sister, whom I’m not speaking to at all. And haven’t in more than a year.
But on Tuesday, everything was blasted open, at least at work and all those places adjacent, where our outness was spotty at best. Whereas I usually slowly unpeel like an onion, my outer wrapping was blasted away. And thankfully, blessedly, if I can believe in blessings anymore, it was completely worth it.
People keep asking me, why didn’t you say anything? Most of them don’t realize this is the third time we’ve been married in a year. Some of them perhaps are making a political statement. Others perhaps are so used to those who are very public about their gayness, especially this week, that they don’t understand that, even if there is a good chance the reaction is good, not everyone is out there like that. And still others, I think, honestly don’t understand how second-nature a life of secrecy is — many times, has to be — for someone who isn’t straight.
I have said before, even on this blog, that I would like to live a more open life. That was, in fact, the purpose of coming out to my friends and family about two years ago. Perhaps that was a lie to myself, and what I really sought was just the opportunity to have more options about which parts of me I’ll show to which people.
First, congrats on the 3rd marriage in a year.
I used to be really secretive about my gayness, and when I started coming out, yeah, I did lose friends and family, but it has been so worth it, as it seems like you’re also discovering. Nothing is better than the truth in this case, I find. It is worse, for me, to have someone love me, and always wonder if they knew I was a lesbian, would they still love me? than to have them stop speaking to me because they know I’m a lesbian. Not that it’s easier, but I’d much rather have people hate me for what I am than love me for what I’m not, and that’s what it came down to for me. Well, that and meeting my future wife. I couldn’t stand anyone thinking I was ashamed of her because I wasn’t honest about our relationship. It is so hard to be open about this stuff, because it feels very private, and it is, but, ultimately, I think it is so important.
I’m sorry that not everyone in your life is supportive. But good for you for having the courage to tell anyone at all and for withstanding this latest “outing.” Good luck as you continue on this path–and in your marriage!
Thanks for stopping by, Loaf.
That’s the conclusion I kind of came to, too, two years ago as I was on the phone with my mom and she gushed about how great a person I was, and I felt like a complete turd for lying to her. Of course, now she informs me I’m the source of shame and disappointment, so maybe I need to be careful of what I wish for.
But you’re right. What’s worse is some of the people I’m hesitating around I don’t even like. And it’s not even just the gay thing. There’s a lot of information I just don’t share with everybody. It gets complicated.
In the end, though, what’s important is I have a great person to call my wife, and this semi-state of openness has me as happy as I’ve ever been. I suppose it’s all a process.