I’m Coming Out (the Remix)
I said there were multiple coming out stories, and so I’ve loosely strung a few more together here. It still gets pretty awkward at moments, but hopefully it’s mostly fun.
To visit my gay friend Tyler in Austin, I had to drive FOUR hours on the highway from South East Texas (SETX), so in my closeted brain, the likelihood that anything I did is Austin would get back to SETX was slim. If you haven’t guessed where I’m going here, I was wrong.
Coming Out by Participating in a Gay Space
When closeted, entering a gay establishment risks being spotted and outed, so I stayed clear of the ONE gay bar in Beaumont. In a city like Austin, however, I was willing to take the risk. There they had enough gay people to pack MULTIPLE bars, and we were going to one named Fabric. I was so nervous I remember second guessing before showing my ID to the door guy. I’d only recently accepted that dancing should no longer be on my “Don’t Do List”. My coworker Krislyn had gotten me to go drinking (amaretta sweets all the way, LOL) and dancing in Louisiana, and I LOVED it (and that was a STRAIGHT bar). Imagine my excitement/nervousness when in a place surrounded by gay men. I can compare it to my first time at Disneyland. You’re excited to try all the rides, the lines are long, and the drinks are too expensive, but there’s a kind of anticipation than something wonderful is about to happen. It’s your first time in your mouse ears and when Gaston looks at you from across the castle, it’s like you can read each other’s minds. You know what he wants. He knows what you want. You’re there to celebrate with your friends though, so you give Gaston a respectful nod, take your Beast by the paw, and push your way through the dancing spoons and dishes to the dance floor where you channel all that heat and excitement into the big Be Our Guest number (aka Britney Spears’ Womanizer). The music takes over your body, and you dance as if you’ve never understood the power of dance until that moment. Then you get introduced to Demas.
Coming Out to Someone Who’s Going to Use it Against You
Who was Demas? Such a name was not common in Texas and yet I had heard it before… Surely this couldn’t be the same Demas who was friends with my long time church friend Katy! Next Sunday will I be expected to march to the front pew after the sermon to confess by sins before God and beg for forgiveness? Luckily, Katy and Matt, (her best friend who was also a member of the Church of Christ) appeared to have no intentions of ratting me out the the church elders. Actually, she and I grew closer than ever. I started telling her every time I went to Austin, and I’d even stay with her a few times over the next 4 years. We even had talks of me joining her and Matt’s backpacking trip across Europe after graduation. That’s when the trouble started. See, I’m hanging with all of these gay people yet I’ve never spoken to Katy or Matt about exactly why, and for some reason, this became an issue for Matt. When confronting Matt about why he’s keeping their flight details from me, he tells me Katy is upset. By not coming out to them, I was putting them in an awkward place. “When people ask about you, we don’t know what to say.” If I didn’t come clean about a few things, my invite on the trip would be withdrawn. I would sometimes insert Matt into the fantasy of my future where I live with a “roommate” who I secretly have a love affair with. The fact that he was forcing me to come out to him and Katy was in some ways the strangest betrayal. They KNEW I was gay, so why did he need me to say it?! I knew the answer even as it was happening: I represented something he wanted or feared and driving a wedge between us was the safest option. I understood, but it still hurt. I called Katy to smooth things over, but after I let it slip that I thought Matt was “kinda gay”, there was no mending it (I’m pretty sure she had a lady boner for him, and such a statement was a backhand to her own fantasy future with him). I was forced to come out, I was dumped, and they went to Europe without me. (BTW, Don’t feel too sad because our mutual friend Leigh Ann offered to meet up with me in Rome. After we coincidentally spent our last day there celebrating in the pride parade, we decided to amend our trip to hit as many other prides as we could, but that’s a story for another time).
It was years before Katy and I mended our friendship. And probably twice as long before Matt called me up the night before National Coming Out Day with an apology and a confession. I couldn’t hold anything against him: for the first 20ish years of my life, I was him but with one important difference: Matt never went dancing at the gay bars.
Coming Out to a Straight Person
I couldn’t properly explain my coming out process without mentioning Mark Mahan. I used to introduce him to people as the gayest straight man I’ve ever met. He was engaged to a woman but his hair is flawless, his voice is as feminine as mine, he wore a speedo to crystal beach, his jeans were skin tight, and I have an image of him in my head wearing only a tight vest as if it were a shirt. He was critical because he let me gage the people of SETX’s reaction to true flamboyance. He was a peacock in a world full of ducks, and was the first person I was conscious of who showed no fear or shame about it. Being gay around other gay men in Austin was easy. Go anywhere with a peacock in SETX, and people are bound to stare (and more often than not, someone would be compelled to say something). One day we were driving with a newish straight friend Daniel asks me about the nature of the relationship with my then ex Jacob. Maybe it’s because Mark was there, but without hesitation I tell this straight man, “‘Oh, I’m gay.” Back then saying those words were like speaking a thousand. I’m gay meant: “Yes, I’m different than you. Yes, I do things you might think are gross. Yes, those thoughts you have about girls I could be having about you.” After my cool response, Mark told me that it was the first time he’d hear as much and that he was proud of me. I know the the best things I took from college was the people I’d met. They inspired me and helped me grow more powerful than any knowledge I could get from a book, and all they really had to do was spend time with me.
Why I Stopped Coming Out
Now when I walk into a room, I don’t want there to be any possible question of whether I’m straight or not. I want everyone to know where I stand: outside the box. I wear rainbow high tops to the gym, paint my nails with glitter before coaching, sport daisy dukes at the grocery store, and have wonder woman’s tiara around my cowboy hat. I want other queer people to instantly recognize that they have an ally the room. I want women feel at ease when we’re alone on a dark street that I’m not going to try to rape them. Anti-gay Republicans have shown time and time again that they have no problem spewing hate at gay people until they find out their kid is gay. People in general grow more accepting of differences once they personally know someone who falls into a “them” category (them meaning different sexual orientations, gender expressions, races, languages, religions, etc). My hope is that in wearing and sharing my gayness, someone who goes about their lives distrusting those who are one of “them”, subconsciously recognizes that if that gay guy in the leather harness let me cut in front of him, helped me change my flat, or laughed with me as I bumped into the box of watermelons, then maybe, instead of being one of “them”, he is really one of “us”.
Plus, why should Mark get to be the only peacock? ;)
