Today, October 11th, is National “Coming Out” day in the US. For those who don’t know, I’m bisexual. I came out publicly last year in this blog post. It’s been almost a year since then, and I thought it would be interesting to reflect back on what’s been like to have been “out” for a year.

Initial reactions

The initial reactions, much to my relief, were universally positive. There were many expressions of how people’s opinions of me didn’t change at all, and how brave I was to have come out at all (esp. considering I’m very straight-passing, and married to a woman). Several people shared their own coming-out stories, and one other friend of mine even decided to come out herself based upon my blog post. I received zero negative remarks (that I ever heard, anyway).

My own reactions were largely of absolute relief to finally have it off my chest. I hadn’t predicted how immense of a relief it would be to no longer be concerned that someone would find out, or “out” me without my permission. Even though it’s still something most strangers don’t know about me, the feeling that I don’t care if they find out is wonderful.

Coming out again, and again, and again…

One thing I hadn’t entirely absorbed before coming out was that you’re really never done coming out. There’s always a new group of people you meet, a new social situation you enter into, that new person who joins your office, whatever. They don’t know you, and eventually it comes up, one way or another, and you find yourself coming out again. And again. And again…

My experience has been that it does get easier over time, but that it’s never easy. I always feel at least a little nervous, and find it difficult to make eye contact. I always feel that little inner cringe of dreading a negative reaction. Even having never received a negative reaction, it’s still a little scary. It has definitely gotten easier, though.

Frequently asked questions

There have been a number of questions which come up pretty often when the subject arises:

• What did your wife think? (She was cool with it.)
• What does your son think? (Sex is icky: doesn’t matter who.)
• Have you ever considered dating a guy? (I was never out enough with myself to consider it until after I was married.)
• Would you ever consider seeing a guy? (Definitely, but only if I was no longer married.)
• Do you regret not having dated a guy? (Yes, but in the same way you regret deciding not to go see the Taj Mahal: as a bucket list item you choose to cross off un-done.)

Mostly, people have been very respectful of trying not to pry, but seeing how open I am about it, I get questions which become more and more personal as the conversation progresses. I’ve never received a question I refused to answer outright, but there have been a few for which I give honest, but somewhat circumspect, answers to.

Exploring LGBT+ culture

As I became more comfortable with being “out” myself, I found it increasingly interesting to spend time with or learning about other people who were also “out”. This took the form of reading and posting a lot on Quora, attending the Denver Pride Parade, writing on this blog, talking with LGBT+ friends, and adding some other reading to my usual news feeds.

It’s been eye-opening, to say the least. Getting hit on at the Pride festival following the parade was amusing. Hearing a lot of shared experiences from others (particularly bi people) has been reassuring. Of all of it, though, I’ve found that increased exposure to trans-sexual and poly-amorous people has gotten me past the “feels very foreign” stage to the “fine, but not my thing” stage.

It’s also been interesting to observe that there really isn’t a single LGBT+ culture. There are definitely some cultural norms in there, but it’s more fragmented. Gay men have certain culture norms, as do lesbian women. Bisexuals share common life experience and difficulties, but I’ve not seen a lot of shared “culture” in the same way. As I’ve observed it, the “LGBT+” umbrella gets used mostly when creating a safe space for non-straight genders & sexualities, or when advocating political action. Apart from that, I’ve not seen much evidence of a unified culture across the individual “letters” in the acronym.

Conclusions

Nearly a year later, I’m still very glad I made the choice to come out. I’ve met some fascinating people, had some positive influence on others, and continued to more deeply learn to understand myself, and this larger community I find myself part of. Finally, I continue to feel more and more comfortable with myself, and I think that’s the most important thing of all.