Tuesday, July 3, 2012


My roommates know.  My father doesn't.  My aunt and uncle and another aunt know.  Some of my old classmates know.  Some of them don't. 

In the New York Times there is a "debate" about whether gay celebrities have a moral obligation to come out.  I put scare quotes around debate because the three opinions are:
A. You're either a hero or part of the problem
B. It's your decision; you can be dumb and closeted if you want to
C. I won't tell you to come out, but I wish you would
I am not completely out of the closet, and it shames me.  It isn't being not-straight, but being not-quite-out that I am ashamed of.  And, ironically enough, it's that shame of being not-out that makes me afraid of coming out.  I'm not afraid that anyone would say what's wrong with you for being gay; I'm afraid they'll say what's wrong with you for being closeted for so long.  Well, that, and I feel like I'm not gay enough to be gay, I feel like a fraud claiming it, and it doesn't help when it seems as if there are so many people, gay and straight, who think that being a bisexual woman doesn't really count.  Especially a bisexual woman who has plenty of experience with men, who likes them a lot and knows what she likes, but has almost no experience with women and is, well, kind of terrified of them.

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