Following In My Sister's Footsteps
By Karl
My coming out story pales in comparison to that of my sister. Having just had her appendix taken out, my sister awoke from anesthesia in the recovery room. The way she describes the event makes it all the more humorous. Her eyes open to the sight of my mother and father looking down on her. My sister was only able to mutter one sentence before lapsing back into unconsciousness. "Mom, Dad, I'm a lesbian." How can anyone top that?
My own road to being completely open with who I am began in 1998 when I wrote a letter to my best friend, Portia, telling her I was gay and that I had been depressed about it for years. After sliding the letter into the mailbox, I tried to retrieve it unsuccessfully. Four days later I spoke with Portia on the phone and she didn't mention a thing. I was concerned and wondered if I had come out only to live in silence. Two days later she called again, this time in tears. She'd gotten my letter. Seven days for a letter to travel from Los Angeles to Berkeley. I'd written the wrong zip code on the envelope!
One month later, I was volunteering at a leadership conference. When Portia arrived she was carrying a letter and laughing. Her roommate, Dave, had left her a note in which he had come out to her. Her two best friends came out to her within three weeks of each other!
Over the coming weeks and months, I would begin the long process of coming out. I told friends. I told my sisters. But, the workplace was a completely different story. I'd been working in politics since I was 18. When I started coming out, I had great fear that I'd lose my job. I was still a Republican, though I'd abandoned my belief in some of the principles of the party. I was working in several states for Arizona Sen. John McCain's presidential campaign and made time to hit local gay bars and clubs, though I was always fearful that I'd be discovered. In South Carolina, I was attacked outside of a club. I had bruises and a bloodshot eye. I showed up for work anyway making up stories about my eye and injuries. I never reported the incident to the police. If the story had made the newspapers, I might have been ruined. I finally built up the nerve to change gears at work over the next year. I also switched parties and since then have been active in Democratic politics and local GLBT causes.
Last August, I came out to my parents. You'd think they'd take it a bit easier knowing that my sister started her coming out process nearly seven years ago. But some things move slowly and they are still working through their own issues. I know I have to give them that opportunity and time.
That brings us to my computer. As I sit here typing, I have to say that the road has been surprisingly less bumpy than I ever imagined it would be. The sense of liberation I have with my friends, family and co-workers is something I always wanted and never thought possible. Today, I know freedom and I know happiness.
Coming out means so much more than telling someone that you are gay; it means freeing yourself from the bondage of self-hatred and fear. It means you empowering yourself. It means you allowing yourself the opportunity to love and be loved.
Today, I can honestly say that I love and I am loved.