Yesterday brought us two very moving and heartfelt diaries on the subject of coming out of the closet. I noticed and acknowledged both of those diaries but I think there is a further point to be made on the subject.
I began this as a comment on one of those diaries but it seemed to me that perhaps it might be better to address as a separate post...beyond the fold.
There is one point which it seems to me could have been elaborated upon more in both of those diaries and in the accompanying comments.
I can't presume to speak for anyone other than myself of course but the reality for me is that there was a point in my life when I wished I were not gay, didn't want anyone to know I was gay, didn't want live as a gay man. I presumed that my attraction to others of my own gender was something to be ashamed of and that anyone who rejected me were they to discover my deep, dark secret would be right to do so. And mind you, unlike many I did not come from an extremely conservative religious background; my parents were politically liberal, mostly-non-observant Jews. Part of my discomfort with being gay had to do with the era I was raised in (I was born in 1951) but some of that discomfort was certainly provoked simply by the experience of being "different" from the norm in some significant way. I was already an oddball in any number of respects; realizing I was gay just made things more challenging as far as I was concerned.
One by one those beliefs and assumptions fell away. I came out to my girlfriend; she was neither upset nor surprised. I came out to my sister; she had the same reaction. The third friend friend I came out to said "And...?" Clearly the fact I was gay was not the big deal I had made it out to be. Again, by the time I began this process, Stonewall had happened; indeed I already had friends who were gay and quite open about being so.
I began to move on from that really very pleasant yet somehow unsatisfying heterosexual relationship, attempting to find love with another man. I didn't go about claiming I wasn't gay but unless the subject came up I didn't raise it myself, particularly around family or work. I did not tell my parents I was gay until I was 34, by which time they had long since figured it out for themselves, though to keep it an open secret ultimately became unacceptable for me. I'm fairly sure that had I not finally made the announcement they would eventually have asked me, but it was far better for me to have taken the initiative.
Work was the final frontier. When I was asked how I'd spent my weekends (for example), I'd give vague answers. Most people don't really want to pry and nobody did. What I did outside of the workplace was entirely my business.
There were two things wrong with continuing to operate on that basis. In 1992 my partner was dying from AIDS. I simply didn't have the energy to keep on pretending that nothing significant and painful like that was not going on in my life. The other problem is the more insidious one and the one that I think requires more attention because it is more universal and more important:
If I act as though I'm ashamed to be gay then why should others not perceive my being gay as something shameful? And if I'm not ashamed to be gay, why on earth would I continue to act as though I were ashamed of it?
"Pride" is word that can perhaps seem to lose its meaning in an era when it is mainly associated with big parades and corporate sponsorship. But what that word really is about is a profound sense of self-acceptance and even celebration. To be sure my sexual orientation is not something that is pertinent to every situation. But then again neither is my Jewish heritage. That doesn't mean I should never discuss either and try to fit in when the situation warrants I own my identity with a sense of--for want of a better word--pride. It is something I bring to many situations, not merely sexual ones. It informs my experiences and outlook upon life.
[Edit (9:25 pm PDT)]: Lest anyone presume that my sexual orientation pertains merely what I do in bed and with whom, I can assure you that being gay consists of far, far more than that. Being a member of a minority means that no matter how much approbation I receive from the larger culture I am and will always remain in some sense an outsider. This gives me a unique and potentially (not invariably but potentially) valuable perspective on life which those in the majority may miss simply because their experiences are validated by perhaps 90% to 95% of those around them. There are things that are called into question only when they cannot be taken for granted. Being gay (as for that matter being Jewish in a mostly non-Jewish world) makes me look at things somewhat differently than most other people in the world do.
Others have noted that the process of coming out was very important to those of us of a certain age. Even though I am also of that "certain age" and had to have the experience full-force, the fact is that parents customarily raise their children assuming that they are heterosexual. That's not an unreasonable assumption. At worst there is a 10% chance they will be mistaken. When the difference between you and your peers is something internal, it doesn't matter how accepting society might be or become, you are still tasked with acknowledging and embracing that difference. Over the years I have known a few gay men (and fewer lesbians) who have told me they never really had to come out of the closet because they always knew and they never cared what others around them thought. I understand that is the reality for some people but for most it is not and is not likely to be so, not in the immediate future and perhaps not ever.
Although it is true that one must be taught to hate, it is likely also true that assuming others around us are similar to us (and vice versa) is hard-wired into our thinking. When that turns out not be entirely so, some process of self-recognition and self-acceptance seems to me to be almost inevitable. There is something significant about being able to say to oneself and to others, "In many respects I am just like my peers but in this one crucial aspect I am different...and that's okay."