Closet Cases

Recently I had homophobia stare me in the face.  It was a hard moment for me.  I had a dear friend with whom I had been through many things, get offended near to the point of being irate because I said her adult, straight, happily married daughter was pretty enough to date.  It was an innocent one off comment that meant very little.  In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best comment to share with the world, but this was a friend; someone I trusted with my children.  I trusted her so I didn’t edit myself.  I thought that because she knew I was bisexual for years now and never judged me on it that she was one of the safe people in my life.  A long friendship is now ended because of this.

I was so angry when this happened it prompted me to write the following FaceBook post:  Dear world, I am bisexual. There is nothing wrong with being bisexual, heterosexual, or homosexual. We are all born to be one of the three or possibly more options. This is not something I can control. I will not hide myself because some people might be frightened of it. I will not refrain from thinking a girl is pretty especially when said girl reminds me of my girlfriend whom I miss. It does not mean I will chase after or proposition anyone. I have a lot of love in my life I am not going to 'turn' your daughter or sister. It doesn't work that way. Everyone now knows these things about me. Can we please move on peacefully and judge a little less?

 While I was pleased with the overwhelming positive support I received, even from my family, I still morn for that friend.

Ironically, this post was also taken as my coming out of the closet speech, which is interesting to me.  I never considered myself to be in the closet in the first place.  I didn’t go to my parents house and talk about how there was this hot chic at store, but it was a pretty open secret if it was ever a secret at all.  My husband knows.  He even encourages my relationship with my girlfriend and the two of them are good friends.  All of my co-workers and friends know about my girlfriend and my husband.  My kids know.  They wanted to know who the woman was Mommy was always talking to.  So I told them she was my girlfriend and I love her like I love Daddy.  They sort of shrugged and let that roll off.  I’ve told my children for as long as they have been alive that I didn’t care if they liked boys or girls or both.  I didn’t care who they loved or how they loved as long as they loved.  They are 10 and almost 13 as I write this, so this is the time when their pituitary glands will begin to answer those questions for us.

I do have friends who are in the closet.  I’m a braver person when I am fighting for loved ones.  I think I tried very hard not to hide who I was so they would see it was okay, that even if the world did take a crap on them I was right there beside them.  I know I stay public for my girlfriend so that she feels like our relationship is validated and hopefully has the strength to tell her family.  I’m patient, but not a saint.  I know the fear of people’s reactions and possibly losing those you care about.  I understand it, even.  I am pagan and remained in the broom closet where my family and certain friends were concerned for years.  I rode my broom into the sunshine about two years ago.  Funny how I found being bisexual more socially acceptable than being pagan.

In a way this was a coming out of the closet experience for me after all.  Someone I cared about stopped editing herself and I was no longer seeing the world through the crack in the closet door.  Now I was face to face with something I had hoped never to personally experience.  The door was wide open and the light shone on my face along with the cold shadow.

Fear.

Fear of me, of who I am, of how the All That Is created me from someone who should know better.  What hurt the most was not that she had a moment of fear, but that it was fear of me.  After all this time and all the things we had done for each other and our families, after all the hurt and pain and joy we shared, she found me fearful.  I kept thinking there has to be something more to this.  I don’t understand why this is a big deal.  This couldn’t end like this.  The reality is, something about me being bisexual frightens her.

Why is that?  I know I will never get an answer to that, but I’m human.  I’m drawn to ask.  I’m drawn to rack my brain to understand why.  I’d had conversations with her before and the logic of not choosing this and good people are good people was used.  But when she was faced with the idea that her daughter was attractive to other women she had a knee jerk fear reaction.  I knew fear existed.  I’d seen it played out on social media sites and in the news all the time, but it never touched me.  Not like that.