Just As Queer As I Was Two Days Ago
I kind of a little bit maybe missed National Coming Out Day this year. Damnit. I never miss National Coming Out Day.
So, I'm a little late, but maybe that's okay. Who says it only has to last a day?
Anyway, there's not really much more "out" for me to come. I'm pretty in-your-face queer and only marginally less in-your-face poly. But the reason I keep doing this--that I think this day is so important--is that I have a choice.
My primary relationship is one in which I have the option, every day, of choosing to pass. M and I could hold hands and smile and not mention other lovers or orientation, and all the world would see would be a slightly quirky hetero married couple. There might be a few raised eyebrows, but we have a marriage license, and a joint bank account, and, between the two of us, one penis and one vagina. We could sit back and keep quiet and stay safely insulated in other people's assumptions.
We didn't earn this; it's gambler's luck--that our ball happened to land on that one narrow space that happens to fit most people's expectations. And the messy parts, the spillover? Well, they don't have to see that at all--unless they're made to look.
And that's why we're out: because someone has to be. Because sexual orientation isn't a true/false or even multiple choice; it's a fucking essay question, and if those of us who don't fit neatly between the lines don't speak up, we will be delineated back into the margins.
And there's more--because Coming Out Day isn't just about us. It's about honoring the people who made a world where we can be out without fearing for our lives--who stood up to be counted, even if it meant becoming standing targets. It's about doing our damnedest to continue their work. It's about recognizing and calling out inequality and injustice--social and legal, blatant and subtle--and standing in solidarity--queer and straight--as humans who believe that loving honestly and openly should be a right, not a privilege.
So, I'm a little late, but maybe that's okay. Who says it only has to last a day?
Anyway, there's not really much more "out" for me to come. I'm pretty in-your-face queer and only marginally less in-your-face poly. But the reason I keep doing this--that I think this day is so important--is that I have a choice.
My primary relationship is one in which I have the option, every day, of choosing to pass. M and I could hold hands and smile and not mention other lovers or orientation, and all the world would see would be a slightly quirky hetero married couple. There might be a few raised eyebrows, but we have a marriage license, and a joint bank account, and, between the two of us, one penis and one vagina. We could sit back and keep quiet and stay safely insulated in other people's assumptions.
We didn't earn this; it's gambler's luck--that our ball happened to land on that one narrow space that happens to fit most people's expectations. And the messy parts, the spillover? Well, they don't have to see that at all--unless they're made to look.
And that's why we're out: because someone has to be. Because sexual orientation isn't a true/false or even multiple choice; it's a fucking essay question, and if those of us who don't fit neatly between the lines don't speak up, we will be delineated back into the margins.
And there's more--because Coming Out Day isn't just about us. It's about honoring the people who made a world where we can be out without fearing for our lives--who stood up to be counted, even if it meant becoming standing targets. It's about doing our damnedest to continue their work. It's about recognizing and calling out inequality and injustice--social and legal, blatant and subtle--and standing in solidarity--queer and straight--as humans who believe that loving honestly and openly should be a right, not a privilege.