National Coming Out Day is just around the corner. (Like no one knows I’m a big ol’ mo.) But isn’t every day a coming out day? We walk around in a constant state of queerness that is likely to bubble up at any given moment—at dinner when we’re asked if it’s one check or two, when we’re out buying plants for the house, during new client meetings.
We walk around with this sensation of knowing that, at any given moment, we are coming out. Not just one day a year, but every day of the year. As a queer person, at what point do we just get worn out? Because I may be getting there.
Then I saw this on the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) site:
“Coming Out” vs. “Inviting In”
“Coming out” has been the common term for someone who acknowledges being LGBTQ+, and it is used throughout our resources. However, it is important to note that this language centers the persons we are coming out to rather than us. It gives the impression that people who don’t identify as cisgender or heterosexual are hiding something from society, rather than acknowledging how homophobia and transphobia create an unwelcoming environment. When publicly identifying as LGBTQ+, you are inviting people into a part of your life that should be protected and celebrated. You are not asking for permission to be you. You control the narrative, and who and what you allow into your life.”
Inviting in instead of coming out? Is that a thing? Did I miss a Zoom? I would hope someone would have added that to the Gay Agenda.
Granted, coming out and being visible is important. Younger queers need to see themselves in a public realm, especially if they’re feeling isolated or unsure if they will fit into the spaces they hope to inhabit. Plus, I like that National Coming Out Day has been a catalyst for people to take the leap and be who they are. Yet I’m pretty certain I don’t want to invite everyone in.
The waiter at Rodeo Goat doesn’t need to be a part of my life or celebrate my queerness. He just needs to bring me my cheese fries. And yes, my queerness should be protected, and I appreciate every ally who helps support the community. And when my GI doc is getting ready to do my colonoscopy, the only narrative I think about controlling is the one where they knock me out before he gets started.
Maybe I’m feeling this way since I haven’t asked for permission to be queer in a long time. That ship sailed many moons ago. Just based on the name of this blog, I would say I’m not really concerned about who thinks what. Because life isn’t always about “I’m here. I’m queer. Get used to it.” Sometimes it’s “I’m here. I’m queer. Go butt a stump if you don’t like it.” Especially when I hear cis men whining about not having a “straight pride” month.
However, if you are the more cautious type, inviting in might be the way to go—slowly letting people into the queer part of your world versus standing on a tabletop and shouting to the room. Baby steps versus the big leap.
But while I have had a long time to grow accustomed to being out, I do remember that first leap—scared, worrying, deciding who to tell first, and the entire time debating whether it’s better to be out than in.
