On my birthday this summer I hit the strangest of milestones – I had now spent more of my life ‘out’ than ‘in’. The older I get the stranger I find the concept of coming out. However, until society abandons heterosexuality as default, us queer folks are going to have to keep coming out.
For those of us who can, coming out is never a singular event, and sometimes our first time is less significant than our 45th or 400th. On #NationalComingOutDay I’ve been thinking about the ways that we come out, and the ways that I’ve come out.
Texting your best friend because you can’t say the words
In the mirror as your oldest friend straightens your hair
At the end of a phone call to someone important
Through tears in a broken-down car
Sat on the curb outside a house party
During your English lesson
At the bus stop
Outside the pub
In your bedroom
In his bedroom
In her bedroom
On your Myspace profile
On MSN messenger, hoping she is too
When you started wearing waistcoats and sweater vests on nights out
To the box office person as you fight to pay for the cinema ticket on your first date
To the kind and discreet cashier at WH Smith buying Diva Magazine
Playing ‘I have never’ during fresher’s week
To your new lecturer in your essay
To the bouncer after being refused entry on Canal Street
In the club cubicles
On the dancefloor
Over shots
Over rum
Over wine
On the last 192 home from town
Answering your colleagues’ cryptic questions
To the 80-year-old you’ve been pulling pints for
To the guys trying to buy you and your date drinks
When the guy tries to kiss you at New Year / after the gig / on the work’s do
When they’re trying to ‘set you up’
Over the buffet at a family party
At your second cousins 21st
At a family wedding
At work’s Christmas do
On a hen do
In the toilets at your grandparents golden wedding party
At the hotel reception when they double check that you wanted a double, not a twin room
To the Maître d when he asks if you are ‘sisters’ despite you looking nothing alike
When the taxi driver asks about your ‘husband’
Correcting your partner’s pronouns to your gas / water / electric / internet / phone providers
Buying her a Valentine’s / Christmas / Anniversary card
Buying her flowers
Paying for her meal
Filling out the census
Filling out a job application
To new neighbours
At a protest
In a workshop in answer to “Miss are you gay?”
Through the widest smile to someone who has just stepped out in their 80s
Because they needed to know that you were safe to talk to
Because you felt brave
Because you couldn’t keep it in anymore
Because if you didn’t, you’d never know
Because you wanted to.
– Rachel
