I Hate Cats

I feel like I'm already a bad lesbian.  Truth is, I don't like animals of any kind.  I didn't grow up with animals, I didn't have any special pets growing up or feel any need to get a pet. Sure, I had moments of puppy envy when I was very young.  But on the whole that stopped after an unprovoked and frightening dog bite at age 11.

As I'm moving forward now in my journey of "coming out" I'm starting to question my new found identity.  Who exactly am I with this new piece of me that I'm acknowledging?  I want a change, and I think this merits one.  I don't want to go forward with no changes, so I figure I have to start working on how this identity of mine is going to shift.

I've already started to think about it- now that it's out and I don't have to be so afraid of people finding out- what can I do?  How can I make my being gay part of my identity?  And how can I do this in an authentic way?

It's freaking me out and I know that the only way for it not to is for me to meet some other gay folks who will help me realize that my identity is what I make of it.

But I really do hate cats.

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Long Lost Friend

As I mentioned before, a friend of mine recently lost a parent.  It was not a surprise, but that's cold comfort after losing someone who you've had a relationship with (no matter the quality).  Today was the final memorial to say goodbye, and I am not one of those people who "doesn't do funerals".  I can understand and appreciate that funerals are important, less for those who are departed, and more for those who have been left behind.

I went with a couple who was also attending- it was nice to hang out with them before and go together.  Lately my own reliability is questionable, it was a relief to go with someone else.

So on we went to the church- which is Catholic.  I feel like that needs to be a separate post all together, my relationship with the Catholic church.  We entered the church gave hugs and sat down...my friends were great, asking me if I would be ok going into the church.  Mostly asking in a joking way.  I responded with the usually "catching on fire" response.  A little laugh at a funeral is helpful.

We went in and grabbed a seat, and I got used to being in the church for a couple of minutes.  I grew up Catholic, so the surroundings were not difficult to get used to.  Soon after sitting, another friend (who I have not come out to...simply because of conflicting schedules) joined us and sat next to us.  She is lovely- kind, open, calm and amazing.  I was overwhelmed.  The she asked me "how are things with you?".

And I came thisclose to coming out to a friend during Mass.  It shook me.  Scared me.  And again, something that I usually would not do.  It freaked me right out, how quickly I almost did something as insane as coming out in a church that, if they knew, would say that I'm not right and against Jesus.

As the Mass started I saw a parent of a longtime friend.  This woman is probably the most miserable person I have ever known.  She's got issues, and I'm not joking.  I first met her daughter in grade nine, and we were close throughout school, and it culminated in my being her maid of honour when she got married when were 20 years old.

Since my friend's marriage nine years ago, she has started to become more aligned with very conservative and traditional Christian values.  Usually, this won't bother me.  But this friend has also become very outspoken and almost mean in her beliefs, even on one occasion two years ago chastising a group of us for straying from our "Christian faith".

So, you can imagine my surprise when I saw this friend singing in the choir at the funeral (it was a surprise because she moved to a "mega church" about five years ago).

Sidenote: My long lost friend was the youngest in the choir by about 50 years.

I almost lost it.  Combined with the priest's homily about "living the life Christ wants you to live" to get into Eternity, being told to be a "slave to my Master (re: Jesus)", listening to what an amazingly kind man my friend's dead parent was, thinking about my own dad and our issues and what it would feel like to lose him, almost coming out in the middle of Mass to my friend- seeing this old friend just about sent me over the edge.

In between all of this, I couldn't help but call myself a huge drama queen.  I couldn't even sit through Communion, I had to leave.

It culminated at the end with my long lost friend inviting me over to her new home in the next couple of weeks to see her kids and catch up.

Where she will certainly ask me "how are things with you?".

Fuck me.

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Out Pride

After yesterday's "toe dipping" I started to movE quickly and spent most of today at my city's Pride celebrations.  I have been experiencing an overwhelming amount of support today, and had more than one person offer to come out with me, so to speak.

As I said before, Pride is not something that is new to me.  I've been going to Pride for a few years (I KNOW.  GIANT RED LESBIAN FLAG ANYONE?).

I had decided to go with a friend that is going through her own troubles.  We found the park and parked it under a shady tree with some bottled water and hung out for a couple of hours to wait for the parade to reach us.  It wasn't the best site, we were at the end of the parade, and by the time they reached us the parading folks were done.

Late last night I also reached out to my limited lesbian connections, as per my therapist's orders.  They are the only same sex couple that make me feel comfy about talking about my coming out process, and they've been around my family for a long time- so I didn't have to explain the dynamics of my family.

As soon as I saw my lesbian friends- tears.  It was overwhelming.  We spend the next two hours drinking cold beers in the hot sun, talking about the process and me asking them tons of questions.

They provided me with lots of information and support, and great feedback about my current conflict with my dad's reluctance to talk about my coming out.  They were able to give me some context, and helped me realize a few important pieces.  And it didn't hurt that they are both in the helping profession. They immediately informed me of two things that blew my mind:

1. I am, essentially upset with the fact that people are not reacting enough to my coming out.  This is usually the opposite of what people in my position experience.

Whoa.

2.  The coming out process usually takes about two years (including for each of them).

WHAT THE FUCK???  TWO YEARS???

I just about threw up my Bud Light.  I am not prepared for two years of this hellaciousness.  Two years?  Two years of mood swings.  Two years of irrational behaviour.  Two years of feeling out of control.  Two years of being unable to predict my next emotion.

This sent me for a loop.  They continued to share with me about some of their own experience, which was ridiculously amazing to hear.  I am so grateful.

Then they had some fun with me and tried to get me to take some dental dams from the Public Health Unit booth.  I'm so not even prepared for the world of dental dams.

At the end, they gave me some great connections to the community, and were incredibly supportive and fantastic.  I will be knocking on their door soon again.  Two more sherpas of gayness.

At the four hour mark I got tired (really tired).  I was exhausted from the talking, sharing and some of the more disturbing revelations (TWO FUCKING YEARS).  I then announced (in my usually finesse) that "I am done" and strolled back to the car.

I came home, had a cool shower and fell asleep on the couch.

In my desire to soak up the lesbian talk I didn't even get to see some of my straight friends who made it to the park after I left.  Their sweet texts and emails are amazingly supportive.  I am feeling the love in a million different ways and I'm feeling spent, but happy.

So, it seems that this journey is just beginning, and that my timeline of getting my shit together before the start of my fall semester is flying out the window.

But I'll leave that trouble for another day, and bask in the loveliness that was my first "out" Pride.

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Dipping a Toe

Coming out in July has it's advantages, firstly in my city it's when we're celebrating Pride.  I was nervous about this for a few different reasons.  I didn't know if I was ready to immerse myself in the community, be out in the community and try to join in.

But, there was a big part of me that wanted to be part of this special time.  I wanted to be at Pride, enjoy the festivities, feel the love and the spectacle.

For some of those who I came out to (who were also in the know about such things) they asked me if I was going to Pride.  I was hesitant to tell them yes or no.  Would they want to go with me?  Would they want a report on the activities and events?

My friends were a big reason why I felt comfortable to go to Pride events.  They offered to come along with me, lend their support and have some fun.

But I still wasn't ready.  So tonight I dipped my toe in the water.

I went to the low key Pride event that happens in our downtown core with my parents.  This was very calculated, and a plan of mine that finally (finally!) worked. 

Sidenote: I'm a planner.  A real serious planner.  These past four weeks none of my plans have worked.  Ever.  This is a big deal that I followed through on one.

Last week I told my parents that I wanted to check out Pride with them.  It was strategic.  My dad has been less than open with my process, and when I initially told my mom it was accompanied by me telling her not to talk to me about it at all.  Great.  Soon after, I realized that I wanted to talk to her.  Big time.  And that's how I invited them to Pride.  My mom agreed right away, and was ridiculously on board.  My dad?  He needed a threat to come along.

Tonight was low key, our city is big, but Pride is only just starting to become a bigger event.  We walked around, picked up a couple of pamphlets, some ice cream and watched some drag queens sing Petula Clark and Annie Lennox.  

This was followed by a very sweet drag queen, name Spirit reading a statement.  It started off sounding like the "It Gets Better" video statements, but then it got better.  My mom stood next to me and put her arm around me.  Tears welled up and I felt supported.  It felt good.

My dad took pictures, and didn't say too much.  But he was there, and that felt awesome, too.

So tonight I dipped a toe in the water of Pride.  Not going as an ally, but as a member of the GLTB community.  Tomorrow?  I'm diving right in.

 

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Similar Journeys

This afternoon I joined a friend at her home to do some cooking for a cause.

Our mutual friend recently lost a parent- a tough situation for anyone to deal with.  This particular death is compounded by difficult family relationships and an impending pregnancy.

We got together and talked about doing something for her and decided quite quickly that our friend is not a "flowers as a gift" kind of woman.  She is, however very much into food.  So we gathered and cooked up four lasagnes and five mac and cheese dishes.  It was fun to cook with friends, and I did get some cheesy goodness out of it.

My friend also invited someone else to come along, her friend "S".  She was up for baking up some delish cookies for our friend, so it was the three of us cooking along.

As we were grating and melting and stirring my friend asked me how I was doing after my coming out to her last night.  I responded with "doing well today" and talked about my coming out process briefly, letting S know about the "big reveal".

Then S shared that she was going through difficult time as well, that she was at the beginning of a divorce between she and her husband of eight years.  She was some much so at the beginning that her partner doesn't even know yet about her intentions.  S shared that she just started to say out loud that this is what she wants and is trying to figure out what she needs to do first, how to tell people, how to tell her husband, how to start the legal end of the matter, and how she was going to negotiate their families discovery of the separation and the reasons for the separation (infidelity on the part of her partner in a pretty fantastical way).  She was nervous about how it would affect her mother, and is anticipating how her difficult mother-in-law will process the news and how it could affect others.

As S was talking I was struck at how similar our experiences were.  No doubt that the situations are different.  But the emotions that she was talking about were crazy.  She talked about feeling emotional, angry, scared, upset and at the same time happy and excited.

It was helpful in a way to know that I don't always need someone who went through this coming out process to understand exactly how I'm feeling.  Don't get me wrong- I need to talk to people who have had this experience, it is essential.  But knowing that there are others who have had similar kinds of emotional journeys?  That was a good reminder today and something that I'm very grateful for.

 

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Group Email

When I first started talking to one of my best friends about coming out she asked me when I was going to share with the rest of the world.

My answer?  

"Can't I just send out a group email?"

Here's what I thought it would sound like:

Hi Everyone!

I hope you're having a great summer, and I think we should get together for a summer drink!  Message me back with your availability!

J

P.S.  I'm super gay

She burst my bubble by telling me "no" I could not send out an email blast.

Goddammit.

So I was presented with the task of doing some face to face sharing.  I started with the people closest to me, and up until now, the "big reveal" has been one on one.  I choose this method verses telling a group of people for a very deliberate reason.  I understand that this is not just my coming out process, but the people that I'm sharing this with have to process.  I wanted people to feel comfortable and free to share what they felt without the worry of other eyes looking at them.  Telling people one to one was important.  I thought it was respectful, kind and the lowest key way to share.  

I am not one for the spotlight, it makes me very uncomfortable.  Hence this anonymous blogging.  Telling a group of people is not something that I even wanted to do either.

So far this is working for me, it makes me feel like I can manage a bit better and I feel a bit safer in the situation.  If I feel I'm getting upset or angry I can figure out without multiple pairs of eyes that are watching my every move.  It makes me sweat just thinking about it.

But now I find myself at an interesting crossroads.  I've told my close friends. They know about my uncovered identity as a gay woman.  The conversation I have every time I have come out is lengthy and emotional.  I find that I have to gear myself up for the big reveal and get ready for the conversation that has to ensue.  Gah.

Tonight is another big reveal, and the first group reveal.  It's my monthly wine/cheese/book club meeting with some of my closest girlfriends.  They are a great group- and I'm not afraid of any of them being upset or unkind.  They are, however not women I would naturally seek out in my life.  Their life trajectories (hetero, traditional marriage, babies, politics, etc.) are a bit different then mine.  Not bad, not horrible, just different.  I'm definitely the one in the group who is left of centre.  They are enthusiastic, exciting, open and talkative.  

When I tell them tonight it will be a loooooong conversation. I'm nervous that I'm not up for it.  I'm scared that I will be overly emotional (tears, inability to talk about it), I'm nervous that I will kill the good mood of the evening.

I'm also very nervous that one of them will say something supportive that irritates the shit out of me and I won't be able to ignore it or respond with kindness.  I'm nervous that they will be dismissive of the hardness of this situation by saying things like "It doesn't matter- being honest is important!" or "You don't want to be friends with people who are not going to support you!".

Bah.  I will be fine, and it will be great. 

Fuck.

 

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Roller Coaster

The past four weeks have been a roller coaster.  Scratch that.  The past three weeks has been a roller coaster.

At first, when I started this journey of simply telling everyone that their assumptions that I was straight were misguided, I didn't really start to feel emotional.  I was oddly clinical about the entire thing.  I was not nervous at the beginning, I thought the butterflies I felt were more anticipation than nerves.

And then about 12 hours after I told the most important person (my mom) I started my slow descent into madness.  I started feeling euphoric and terrified, simultaneously.  I can only guess that this is what having a child feels like, except people are much more comfortable talking about your new little person than talking about your new identity as a gay person.

All of a sudden I started experiencing the epicness of my mood swings, which are still in full pendulum swing as we speak.  At one moment I feel happy and excited and proud, the next I am grieving for my closeted self.  I hate this feeling.  And the worst part?  It's totally unpredictable.

Backtrack:  I am the most predictable person you will ever meet.  I make plans, I follow said plans and think methodically about what I want to do.  With this, I can predict my emotional behaviour.  Even when I'm sad, unhappy, down, whatever, I can always understand my feelings.  I can understand why I'm feeling the way I am.  I take such comfort in being able to understand my feelings.

So, you can imagine that with my rapid and somewhat confusing moods I am freaking right out.  Not only do I have to deal with the very big emotions of being scared/upset/excited/happy, but I find myself also dealing with the fear of simply understanding these emotions.

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Being in the field that I am in (social work), I pride myself on my ability to self-reflect.  But it seems that in this situation it doesn't matter what I know in my head- my heart is about five steps ahead of me.  Eventually I can deconstruct what is going on (the insights I have about three weeks ago are helpful, but would have been more helpful 20 days ago).  But it's taking me far too long for my liking.

I'm hopeful that by working through these next weeks (months? oh god) I can return to that person I was before who didn't get super sad when thinking about the relatives that I cannot tell or super excited when I watch "The Real L Word" without fear that someone will overhear and figure me out.

But, we'll see how this goes.  Until then, I will enjoy the rollercoaster ride with its dips of fear and flows of euphoria.

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Making the Leap

The same day that I came out to my mom, Anderson Cooper completely stole my thunder.

He also made the move, whether by his own motivation, or because of the prodding of others.

What I find interesting about when those who are part of the GLTB community come out to everyone (sidenote: this whole assuming people are straight without them telling you is another issue I'm currently grappling with) is the ensuing conversations that happen.

All of a sudden we have people giving their opinion about those who are "closet-ed", and namely those who are famous and not sharing their gayness. On one side we have folks saying that folks like Anderson, Ellen, NPH and others have a responsibility to come out, as famous/powerful members of media. They're excited when folks come out and they continue success.

On the other side we have folks questioning the coming out of those in visible positions in media. Their motives are suspect, and all of a sudden accusations (or thinly veiled passive aggressive questions) start to roll out.

What I find interesting is not asking why did Anderson wait so long to tell everyone, but instead I'm asking myself: Why did it take him so long to feel safe to share?

It's hard not to compare to my own experience- coming out at 30 years old, one of my fears was that others were going to think that I was tortured over the last twenty years. That wasn't the case.

But up until the last few months, I was challenged when I it started to be something that I was hiding. It was scary to feel as though I couldn't "live with it" and keep it to myself. Prior to this I felt (or tricked myself? I don't know) like I could keep this part of my identity just for me- no concerns, no bad feelings. Then all of a sudden- BOOM - it started to feel less comfortable. It started to feel oppressive, uncomfortable and as though I was hiding something. I hadn't felt that before.

So did I come out because I felt pressure? Kind of. Am I resentful of the heternormativity that was part of my decision to come out? Um, hell yes.

I don't know. This whole idea that people should come out if they are in powerful position is something that I do understand. I get. I am aware of the power that silence brings. But why are we putting so much pressure on closeted famous/smart/powerful people? Why are we not looking to our hetero counterparts to take some responsibility for enforcing gendered stereotypes and assumptions? How about we stop creating the environment that continues to perpetuate a culture of needing to have people confirm that the assumptions of heterosexuality are mistaken?

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Fearlessly Falling

Well, I did it. Six weeks after my 30th birthday, I came out.

It was completely surprising, spontaneous and surreal. In other words, nothing like me.

I'm working through this whole "coming out" process and I'm struggling to find other voices out there that I can relate to. The books are crap (that I'm finding), and a lot of the "coming out" material that I'm discovering does not speak to me.

What I've found is that coming out in adulthood is not something that is uncommon, but it doesn't seem to be something that we're talking about...or at least not easy enough for me to find.

So that's what this little blog is supposed to help me do...come out in my own authentic way. I'm not sure how this is all going to work. But I thought in the spirit that perhaps there are others out there (right? RIGHT?) I can do something important.

So, yes it's gonna get gay up in here. But hopefully fun, funny, interesting and infuriating.

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