Ten months ago, I lost my job. You might think this is another "hard times in the land of plenty" diary, but, zing, I’m going in another direction. Follow me below the fold to find out...
I was faced with doing a job search in a stalled career that I didn’t really like, in the worst job market of my lifetime, in support of a life that I realized was not in the least bit fulfilling. I froze – deer in the headlights froze. I’ve done some stuff, made contact with recruiters, put my resume out on the various job sites, but the diligent hustling called for in times like this? I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. The more I tried to, the worse things got.
I realized I had no idea who I was, what I wanted, what made me happy or fulfilled or anything. I’ve always drifted through life, diligently fulfilling the expectations of those around me, doing whatever "they" thought I "should." This in itself wasn’t a shocking revelation; growing up in a WASPy home with 2 alcoholic parents, conformance was so ingrained the idea of questioning it didn't even really come up. I was shocked to realize, though, how much of my life was spent in denial. For me, denial wasn’t a defense mechanism, it was more of a central life principle. Denial sucks. Successfully applied, denial keeps you from noticing anything about yourself, about how hurt, angry, miserable or lonely you are. It keeps you from noticing anything about the people around you whether they like you or dislike you or anything in between. It may keep you safe in some environments, but it really really sucks.
I spent a long while reflecting on what made me happy, what scared me, and most especially, the things I had done when I wasn’t diligently fulfilling the expectations of everyone around me. I realized that when I was free to do what I wanted, I sought out gay experiences; that, chickenshit that I am, I never did anything about it; and finally, whenever that window of freedom closed, I went back to being a diligent good expectation-fulfilling boy.
I wrestled with this for weeks, sinking lower and lower, deeper and deeper in despair until I lay in bed one night, restless and agonizing... Really, at this point in the story, I was wondering if I shouldn’t put suicide on the table as an option (it’s off!!!!!!!!!!). I lay there and heard a voice... my Higher Power, and yes, I’m in a 12-step program, never mind which one... say "It’s okay to be gay." All right, I said to myself, I’ll try it. I slipped into that skin, let myself be that gay person, interested in men, in touch with his feminine side and it has felt... so right. I am more at peace, more confident of myself than I have ever been.
I’m gay.
(Told you I was going in another direction... yep, it’s a My Big Fat Gay Coming Out Diary!)
This is kinda problematic because I have lived all my life as a diligent expectation-fulfilling straight man, husband, father and the whole nine yards.
My life is still a mess – still don’t have a job, job market still sucks, but the prospects of finding one don’t seem so awful now. Also, because I've lived my whole life as a straight man, husband and father, I’ve picked up another huge mess I don’t know what to do with. I’m out to my wife. I didn’t come out to her the way I wanted to, in some sort of structured calm conversation, but in the middle of a heated argument. Shit. Done is done. She has, in all honesty, shocked the hell out of me in how supportive she has been, but she is terrified that her whole world is being turned upside down. This has been hard for me, because where I want to shout from the rooftops in joy, she’s in shock. At home I need to go slow and give her time to process before we decide what to do or how to do it.
But me, personally, I want to scream..... "Yippppiiiiieeeeee!!!! I know who I am!!!" I am overwhelmed with so many things: I know I didn’t get along with my college roommate because I had a crush on him and was afraid of it. M, if you’re out there, I wish we’d been better friends, and I wish I hadn’t pushed you away. Beyond that, who knows? I know I’ve always had a hard time dealing with men because I’m gay and I was afraid they’d somehow know. Now I know I’m gay, and whether they know or not, so what? (Oh and by the way, cute ass!) I realize that so many things that made me weird and uncomfortable and odd were just the parts of me that would not stay down no matter how hard I tried to shove them away.
Back in the 80’s in college, I studied in England for a time, and used to go to a pub for a folk singalong. There they sang a tune by John Maguire called "Hey Ronnie Reagan;" one line of the chorus went:
"I’m gay and I’m left and I’m free."
Amen and Namaste