Coming Out (From the Closet)

Coming out is a fundamental process in queer people's life. Should coming out even be a thing? "The straights" don't have to come out, so why should we? Is it to just let people know? And in that case, why can't it just be casually brought up in conversation? There are so many questions regarding this and just why we, as queer people, have to even make a giant deal about who we are and aren't attracted to, both sexually and romantically.

Whether you're lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, pansexual, asexual, demisexual, non-binary, and anything in between, you kind of know what I'm talking about when I stress on about the pressures and awfulness that is coming out, and if not, GREAT! Many people don't have to come out, they're happy to just be themselves and oh man am I jealous of those people. I'm 19, I have loving friends and a loving family, and all of my friends know I'm gay, so what's the difference if my family does? Is it rejection I'm afraid of?

I have asked myself a lot of questions regarding why, in a year and a half, I still haven't told my family. As of right now, I think it's because I'm terrified of a bad reaction. I'm terrified of my family—that shouldn't be a feeling/emotion that I feel towards my family... fear.

I suppose one of my biggest boulders in the way of stopping me is actually bringing up that something is going on and that I need to talk to them about something very important in my life. My sexuality isn't the biggest thing about me, by any means, but there comes a time where you have to bite the bullet. I get that. It's just that I have this thing where the bullet comes rushing towards me and I either dodge it or freeze time and stall until I've found a way to get out of biting it.

There was a time last year where I nearly let it free, that I felt I could talk to my mum and allow her to help me through my discovering of my sexuality. She asked me if there were anything I was holding back from her. I looked at her, silence cascading over both of us. I look at the wall next, then the floor and tell her "No, I'm fine." This, by far, is the biggest lie I have ever told in my life. I wasn't fine. Not one bit. But this fear of my own mother stopped me from letting it out and just telling her that I was struggling to find myself.

Pride month is among us (June) and it's making me so happy seeing people on Twitter, Instagram, and among all social media, coming out and having a good time with their friends and family. I suppose it dawned on me at the start of June that I have to come out now because if not, I won't ever do it. I can't keep running to the edge of the cliff and stop before I jump, in fear that I might fall. I have to trust that when I get to that edge and jump, I won't care about the outcome because I know that I'll be able to fly.

Wow, that was a cheesy metaphor, but one to think about this month of June, a celebration of the Stonewall riots in 1969. To honour those who fought for LGBTQ+ rights and freedom of speech, back when no one was listening to their opinion, simply because who they loved didn't follow the tradition of a cis male/female relationship. They were brave enough to riot for their acceptance. Specifically, I have to mention Stormé DeLarverie, who I strongly recommend you read up on as she is such prominent figure during this time.

Stormé DeLarverie was a biracial lesbian and her scuffle was thought to be the most defining moment that started the Stonewall riots. Though DeLarverie says that "It was a rebellion, it was an uprising, it was a civil rights disobedience—it was no damn riot."

They broke out when a woman in handcuffs was being roughly escorted out from a bar by police. She was bleeding and had been it with a baton. The woman's identity is uncertain, some identified her as Stormé DeLarverie but it is not set in stone. She looked at the bystanders and shouted at the "Why don't you do something?" This sparked the flame, the mob was loose, and the uprising, the rebellion began.

Let's not forget though, Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, two big names you may have heard when reading about the Stonewall riots. Both, just like Stormé DeLarverie, fighting for the LGBTQ+ community and their rights.

I'd like to end this by saying happy pride month. May the people who fought for our rights in the community not be forgotten, and that we don't lose sight of our future, as well as our past. I may still be working on my own issues regarding my coming out, and the closet is dark inside, but every time I crack the door open, a little more light comes seeping through, giving me hope.