Earlier this week, I read the post “Inching Closer to Coming out,” on the GayDadProject site, and it really resonated with me.
See, despite writing for Lesbian Family, I’m not actually a Lesbian. I identify as Bisexual, though that doesn’t really truly encompass my views. I just really don’t like labels. But bisexual I am, or pansexual, perhaps, or whatever it is one wants to call themselves when they’re attracted to people regardless of what’s down below. (I mean, unless you’re a centaur or something like that. I do keep my attraction to the human species.)
And it’s funny, sort of, not really in a ha ha kind of way, how often I find myself coming out.
I remember the first time I really confused people. I was working at a business that asked us to fill out a diversity survey. Co-workers (with whom I was friendly) came to me with urgent looks on their faces. “We have a question,” they asked in hushed voices.
“So… if lesbians can also be called gay, when you filled out the form… didyouputlesbianorgay?”
“I put bisexual, because that’s what I am.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop, even on our cushy carpeted floors.
“But you’re married… to a woman.”
“Yes, but I like men, too. I just happened to fall in love with a woman, and decide to spend my life with her.”
They got it, eventually. And I suppose I’m grateful that, for the most part, I live in a world where nobody thinks twice about the fact that I’m married to a woman. But of course, then explaining that I also like men gets all the more complicated.
But how much more complicated will it be, even, when I have to explain it to n?
Having two moms is a way of life for her, and certainly isn’t complicated. And, I suppose, she need never know that I’m also attracted to men, and used to date them, before I married her Mama. But I wouldn’t then be telling her the whole truth of me, nor would I be helping to expose her to the truth that love and sexuality is a vast and complicated spectrum, and nothing to be ashamed of. And that’s not something I want. I want her to know me, and I want her to know that it’s okay to be who I am, who anybody is, and who she is and will be.
At three, my daughter isn’t yet ready for this conversation. But I suspect that, if I’m to be ready for it by the time she is, I ought to start preparing myself now.