Coming Out is Hard to Do

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Sometimes I look back and wonder if it was worth it all: Coming Out. Well, I never actually came out on my own. I was outed.

I’ve talked a bit about what it means for me to be bisexual. In some ways I think it’s more confusing for me being bisexual than it is for people being either gay or straight. When I was still in the closet, it was easier for me to convince myself that sexual orientation is a choice. I was married with a woman and had 3 wonderful sons. If I had really wanted to, I could have done absolutely nothing and remained in the closet for the rest of my life.

I would have not reached out to my friends and acquaintances who were in the LGBTQ community. I would not have questioned my church’s Position Statement on Homosexuality. (Good luck finding it. For the most part, The Salvation Army has eradicated all publications of that online, but it still exists and has not been supplanted by anything new.)

If I had remained silent, I might still be married. I might still be a pastor.

Instead I was outed. Do I feel it was my fault for being outed? No, not at all, Could I have been more discreet? Of course, I could.

I Knew the Consequences

After the brouhaha of my termination and lamenting that I had become a heretic in my old church, my old divisional commander (who would be like a bishop, to put it in modern parlance), told me that I knew the consequences of my actions when I questioned their standards.

What were these consequences? Salvation Army officers (pastors) are NOT employed by The Salvation Army. When I was ordained in The Salvation Army, I had to sign a statement, saying that there was no legal employment between The Salvation Army and myself. If I were to cease being an officer, I would have no legal action I could take. When I signed that document, I was already 2 years into their seminary. I had no idea I would have been required to sign that document.

At the time, I thought that if God had called me to be an officer in The Salvation Army, then I should not been afraid to sign such a document. I did not realize I had signed away any legal protection for myself. There would be no unemployment check. No guarantee of a severance pay (although I was granted one). I did have colleagues who, when terminated, were given a bill for their seminary studies they were expected to pay back. It is ironic to have to pay a bill for an ordination you are no longer have nor ever will have.

So it is no wonder that Salvation Army officers are reticent to speak openly against policies that the Army promulgates, especially if they disagree with it.

Yes, I knew the consequences of my actions. I am living them now.

A pariah. A heretic. An ex-officer, a nomenclature I never thought I would have to live with.

I was 42 years old when I was outed.

What has happened since?

I have navigated the LGBTQ lifestyle with varying degrees of success. Sometimes I fail miserably, but more often than not I feel free. At the same time, it isn’t all that easy.

I have a boyfriend now. It feels quite wonderful to be in a relationship with him. Whenever he holds me, I feel ecstatically in love. This is not a feeling I have felt in a long time.

At the same time, I find that I have to continuously come out. I live in a very conservative part of the United States. Whenever I meet new people and tell them about my sons and then that I have a boyfriend, it always sends people for a double look. Online is worse. I will get private messages sent to me.

Family is the absolute worst. I had a cousin tell me that he had no clue that I “liked to smoke dick.” I will have family members who seem supportive of me, but then post anti-LGBTQ messages online, letting me know where their true feelings lie.

Then it seems like I have to start all over again.

I have to come out. Again.

And Again.

And Again.

I love listening to the podcast, “A Way With Words.” In their own words, it is about “language and how we use it.” On one episode, I listened to host Martha Barnette speak with a caller about her trouble in using proper pronouns with someone who identified differently than with the pronouns they were assigned at birth.

I will never forget what Martha said: “From a perspective of a gay person, you never come out once. Your whole life is a process of coming out again and again and again.”

How true that is!

And so I come out once more, letting people know who I am. It can be painful, but it is freeing. Coming out is not for everyone. God knows that I would have preferred to have remained in the closet. It is a mixture of freedom, but at the same time, being confronted with bigotry and homophobia at every turn.

Was it worth it? Yes. I have realized that I am not responsible for the hate people show me. I am only responsible to be who I am authentically and to love as God would have me love.