I have not had very many secrets in my life. Sure, I’ve had my share of the petty little “nothing” secrets that don’t amount to much. And sure, the secret thoughts about the people around me that I don’t like, ugly thoughts that I would be ashamed to admit to having.
As a lesbian I share the one big secret that most glbt people have grown up with. The really big secret that has taken up residence inside my soul and has no intention of leaving. The really big secret that has permeated every cell of my body. The really big secret that I can no longer live with ... or without. After all, this secret is about who I am. So its disclosure was a major revelation by me, about me, and for me.
Interestingly, once I disclosed the secret to myself (that is, my conscious mind) and then those closest to me, it became easier to tell others and I became more comfortable in my new skin.
When my secret first started creeping into my consciousness, I didn’t think I would ever reveal it to anyone. After all, I myself had been resisting the revelation for most of my life. But once I obtained some information about the subject and learned a few things about it, I realized there was no reason to keep it a secret.
After myself, the first recipient of the revelation that I am homosexual was my husband. I know he was braced for some kind of revelation because our lives had been in a total upheaval anyway and I think he was simply waiting for some kind of explanation. The fact that my secret was working its way to my consciousness like a bubble floating from the depths to the surface--this fact had caused some disruption in our lives and in the lives of our children who sensed, as children often do, that there was a secret not being revealed.
The next recipient of the revelation was my oldest child, who at the time was home on a break from college. I remember the two of us walking home on a cold winter’s night in a snowstorm. It seemed relatively easy to make the revelation to her as I think back on it. I wonder if I sensed that years later she would be making the same revelation about herself to me.
I wrote about coming out to my sister in a piece called “Coping with Loved Ones.”
I timed my coming out to my sister, so that she would not be able to say a word after I made the shocking disclosure. Yes, this was how I coped with this difficult situation, ie, coming out to this loved one. We had been together for a few days and the time came for her to go home. We are at the airport at her gate. Her plane is boarding (this was before the high security days). “Last call for flight 6348 to Birmingham,” blared the public address speaker. “Oh, I do have something important to tell you, Marcy. I’m gay.” I said, as she is about to enter the jetway. “Let’s talk soon,” as I wave goodbye. I’m thinking,”Maybe she didn’t even hear me above all the noise.”
I never had to reveal my deeply-buried secret to my parents. My mother died in 1957 right after I graduated from college. At that time my secret had not yet taken the form in my conscious mind. Although I knew good and well what my feelings were I was not yet willing or able to admit to myself what those feelings meant or what they represented. Sounds pretty dumb, doesn’t? But that’s the truth. I had neither enough experience nor knowledge to understand what my feelings meant. So I never came out to my mother.
My father died in the late 1970‘s before I came out to myself. Just before the upheaval in the family took place--the upheaval that led to my revelation.
I have been out for just over 30 years now. I have become quite well practiced in making my revelation to others whether they be friends, family, or complete strangers.
It seems quite natural really. Like revealing to someone that I am, say, left - handed. (which I am not). But no different than something like that. Being gay is not necessarily mentioned unless it is relevant to the conversation. I have found, however, that when we are having a conversation with someone, we are revealing who we are, disclosing more and more about ourselves--what we think, feel, believe--ie, who we are--and who we are includes our sexual orientation. And so the revelation is often made. Happily revealing myself no longer makes me nervous, anxious, trepidatious, or break out in hives. On the contrary my journey has taken me to a place where I feel quite proud to reveal who I am. It is the hundreds of thousands of such revelations that are made every day that help to change attitudes, correct misinformation, and promote understanding and good will.
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