That's what I did for most of my life. . .hiding from the bigotry, hatred, judgments and perilous times of growing up gay in the late 1950's and early 60's. . .and way beyond.
I always knew I was different even at ages 3, 4 and 5. It just took me a long time to know and understand what there was about me that was different. Not surprisingly, there were lots of things that were different from the others around me and only one of many was that I was gay.
I had a very unsettled and tenuous childhood that included being adopted when I was 5. I wrote about those early years and the journey into my twenties in an embarrassingly long series of diaries here four years ago. The community here at DK was extraordinarily receptive and kind to my rambling prose encouraging me to continue installment after installment. If you should have an interest and the time you can jump in the way back machine and read it here in a series titled, Adopted Daughter/Notes In The Margins (You can read all 10 parts if you click the links, the wrap up of this series is found HERE)
The very short version and the more pertinent discussion of coming out is what I will offer for those of you who asked me to recount my experiences.
I grew up in my adoptive family in Salt Lake City. Salt Lake in 1945 was a pretty uptight and very "white bread" city that was heavily influenced by a majority of the population's membership and participation in the Mormon Church. The conventional wisdom and societal influences were hyper conservative and in my view overly restrictive.
Although I had great awareness that I was different from most of the people who were in my life, I didn't actually come to know that I was gay until I was almost 21. Sure, looking back I could see all the clues and obvious sign posts along the way and could hardly believe that I didn't know much sooner but it just wasn't done, just wasn't talked about, just wasn't anything acceptable or easily seen or acknowledged. Not in the 1940's. Not in the 1950's. Not in the early 1960's.
I already felt like an aberration because I wasn't racist and I couldn't comprehend that women couldn't do anything that men could do. This was the time before the womens movement, the time before the civil rights movement and several years before the Stonewall Riots of 1969. None of these restrictive and cruel constructs and actions of hatred made any sense to me at all.
I finally met other gay women in County Recreation sports programs and at the University. That in itself was a huge relief. To see and know that there were lots of gay people out there and I was not alone was a wonderful coming out of a sort. But in those times, in that community, in that atmosphere, in my family and church associations there was no feeling of it being safe in any way to come out and live out. . .not for me, not for most of those I knew. And further, gay sexual acts were against the law. Imagine that. People were fired from their jobs for being gay. People were refused rentals or thrown out of their apartments for being gay. Families disowned and literally threw their gay children out in the streets and never spoke to them again. The courage it took to be an out gay person in those times is something many have no concept of.
Once I was introduced to the gay bars. . .being raised Mormon I had never been in a bar in my life and until the teammates on my softball team introduced me to drinking, I sure was not acquainted with drinking either. . .but the bars were there and it was most often the only meeting place of any safety for gay people. Even then, there would be the Friday Night "Let's go beat up some queers" events where car loads of young teen and twenty males would get drunk and wait in their cars outside of the bars and attacked the people exiting those establishments. A gang of 6 or 8 would pile on one or two people (usually the guys) and beat the bloody hell out of them. Sometimes they had no hesitation in beating up the lesbians as well.
So although we had some places to meet and interact and enjoy each other, it was not without a price to pay or the possibility of serious bodily injury. The police could not have cared less if the victim of such attacks was gay. Nothing ever came of reporting such things. Then of course there were the frequent times that the police pulled up their vans and raided the bars, arresting everyone that was there. The crime? Why being gay of course.
There were plenty of times that being gay didn't seem very "gay" at all.
I lived all of my adult life with these memories and the overwhelmingly sad memories of the ones who were literally beaten to death. I went to more than one funeral of someone I knew casually that was murdered and there were no police investigations. . .oh, yes, they took down the bare information, but no follow up ever occurred. This sadness was followed by the increasing awareness of HIV AIDS in 1981 and I watched dozens of my male gay friends die while the government or anyone refused to do any research to help. After all they were just Queers! Better that they die anyway.
Matthew Shepard was for me another unbearable circumstance that resulted from ignorance, bigotry, hatred and turning a blind eye to the reality of life for gays in this day.
The first straight person I came out to was my best friend from high school. . . it was unsettling to her, even though we were in our mid twenties now and she was married. My closest friends I always told. My parents, never. There were a lot of reasons that never happened but it was not at all like they didn't know. I lived in long term relationships with women. . .they knew. They didn't want to know the details. I never made them listen to them. My 90 year old grandmother knew and gave me a smile, a wink and a nod to let me know there would be no judgments from her.
I have had an interesting, exciting, adventurous life (at least I feel it has been). It has been wonderful beyond belief. Sure, I have had all the disappointments, discouragements, difficulties that come with living a life on this planet, but I have grown and expanded and become the person I am because of it all. I have spent 25 years in study of Metaphysics. In 2000, after filling my life with wonderful, spiritual and loving people I call family, I came out totally to them and everyone in my life. I was 60 years old and it felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. I am out and I don't worry about what anyone thinks any more. It just isn't my problem.
I have completed a BA, MA and PhD in fields of great interest to me. I have amazing and loving friends scattered all over the US and some other countries AND at 68 I have met, fallen in love with, and moved into a lovely relationship with someone who brings me great JOY and laughter. After ten years of being single and being enormously happy with my life, who would have ever guessed that this charming, adorable and wonderful person would come into my life and make it even better!!
Should any of you have any interest, my book, Notes In The Margins, a Journey of the Heart, will be available sometime next month as an ebook and paperback as well. Stay tuned for more information. It is a fictionalized telling of some of my life adventures. . .adoption, relationships, discovery, sexuality, romance, spirituality, the evolution of being and all that stuff. Based on a true story, as they say.
Hugs to all,
Shirl
Shirl 2005