I never came out of the closet.
And by that, I mean there was no single point in time when I decided to Be Myself.
Instead, I just sort of… expanded.
Photo bySharon McCutcheononUnsplash
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Updated 2 years ago,July 31, 2023
When did you come out?
is a question Ive been asked on numerous dates.
(Ive also asked it, usually when theres not much else to say.)
Its a question that stands in for other questions: How well do you know yourself?
How risk-averse are you?
How liberal were your parents, your peers, your places of worship?
Where would you situate your family, socioeconomically?
Mostly, its a stand-in for: How new are you at this?
And: Can I trust you?
Gays like me are conditioned to divide our lives in two: Before and After.
And then we keep walking… never to return.
Goodbye old self, hello new setting on my dating app.
Now I can finally be real with you, people without last names.
Becoming yourself is deeper than going public about your sexuality.
Its more than a single conversation around a kitchen table (or a Twitter timeline).
Its like:Finally, we know what to call you!
(People love knowing what to call other people.
They cant get enough of it!)
I never came out of the closet.
And by that, I mean there was no single point in time when I decided to Be Myself.
Instead, I just sort of… expanded.
I oozed outward in slow-motion, like a ball of slime.
I gave myself permission to break the rules Id spent decades inscribing into my consciousness.
I made out with people and then talked about it.
This was awesome and mortifying and totally normal… and no one cared.
It happened somewhere between 2010 and 20… the year I die?
What youre reading now is part of it.
Part of the ooze.
Because it doesnt stop, its just an ongoing expansion.
Like, first I was in the closet.
Now, the closet is in me.
Probably because they never thought of me at all.
And why would they?
Im like Schrodingers Thirtysomething, simultaneously in and out depending on how well we know each other.
More importantly, I remember what it was like to live in accordance with an imaginary book of rules.
Be sort of boring!
Dont laugh like that!
It was annoying, but I dont disown that rule-follower.
And there are a lot of those, especially this year.
Of course, I dont say all this stuff to strangers at a bar (or a Zoom).
Instead, I usually tell people I came out late.
I say this to preface the fact that I may be bad at dating.
That I never feel like myself, whoever that is.
Never mind the fact that 22 is not late.
Never mind that Im still trying to unlearn those rules and all the others.
I wonder when well stop implying theres some vague timeline for being gay, or being anything.
do you want to come back inside?, ad infinitum.
I recently learned thattime is a spiral, which makes a lot of sense to me.
No befores and afters, just backs and forths along a Z-axis that marches forward indefinitely.
We took a break and walked to the parade.
My dad was there, too.
The three of us stood in silence.
It meant something to me, since I was inwardly identifying as queer now.
Maybe they know, I thought.
When did I come out?
Just now, if you were paying attention.
But also, a decade ago.
Every time I talk to my dad and hear the barely perceptible silences.
Youre always circling back to the people you used to be.
Editing the rules you used to follow into new, less suffocating ones.
In a million ways, I havent even come out yet.
Maybe I will soon.
