What does being out mean to you?

Well I have a bit of an issue with this, still, because in a way I would like to be out, but on the other hand, I feel like I first have to make some life changes, maybe get to know some real life lgbt people or I don't know. Also would need to sort out my relationship with my bf.

In a way I'm afraid that if I out myself before I'm fully comfortable with me being gay, something bad will happen. Not sure, maybe it's just a fear induced illusion.
But in the same time it's eating me alive that I'm not out and I caught myself hinting to people...

So yeah, it's a dilemma, but I think that being out would at some point mean I could finally free up a huge amount of energy and use it in more constructive ways...

---------- Post added 8th Oct 2015 at 09:25 AM ----------

Btw, forgot to say, baristajedi, I admire you for being so brave and coming out to so many people in such a short time

 

Quite simply, it means freedom. The word "freedom" encompasses so many things and that's my intention, because that's what coming out meant to me. It was life changing and life enhancing and I don't regret it for one minute. No more lying or prentending, no more tip-toeing around other people and their expectations for my life, no more depression or darkness, no more isolating myself and dreaming about relationships that I could now pursue for real. I could go on, but I hope that gives a flavour of what it means to me.

Does it all come overnight? No, but there was, for me, a huge sense of relief from saying "I am gay". Saying those three little words lifted a dead weight that I had been carrying around with me - a weight that was literally crushing me until I faced the :***: down.

 

To me, being out means being able to live a normal life. Being out means that I don't have to hide myself and I don't have to think about what I say when folks bring up the subject of family and relationships. Being out means that there is no shame in being a lesbian. Being out means freedom.

 

I have not yet figured out what being out will mean to me. Alas.

I think 6-10 years from now, it will simply mean that I will volunteer for LGBT organizations and attend some LGBT events occasionally. I have always donated to the cause and will continue to do so. I have always been an "ally", and had a queer-friendly circle of friends. I will continue this, but from the inside of the queer circle.

But between then and now, I really don't see a good path for me to be out. Even if I literally come out and tell people "I'm bi," which I don't have a problem with doing, I'm not sure how to LIVE out.

I'm not sure what being bi even means (for anyone really, and for me personally). And, no, telling me "it can be anything you want, sexuality is fluid!!!" is not particularly helpful, even if it's true. That's like saying, don't worry! God is everywhere! He's in you right now!!! to someone who is desperately seeking a religion.

Right now it seems like I'm simply doomed to years of sexual and romantic frustration until menopause hits. It's better than being fully gay and closeted, but it's still not a happy place.

Lately I've been tempted to just give up figuring out my sexuality and just focus on other things like my work and hobbies and kids. Those I can make headway on.

Being bi in theory is awesome and interesting.
Being bi IRL with a husband and kids is a quagmire.

 

I've said it a number of times in various forums, but this seems like a good place to put it down formally once more.

Being closeted is all about taking steps to conceal your orientation so that nobody suspects it is what it is. Therefore, being out simply means no longer taking such steps.

So really, I think the OP does a good job of summing up the main bits of this. If you aren't out to yourself yet, then yeah, the whole notion doesn't even apply. But if you are, then it's a matter of the people who need to know (and/or who you want to know) knowing...your family, your doctor, close friends, whatever. Otherwise, simply not concealing...admitting when it comes up in conversation that no, you don't find that guy hot, because you don't find guys hot; admitting when it comes up in conversation that you have a hot date with a woman this weekend, and you can't wait; not masking the gender of your partner or rewording things so it's not clear; telling off the bigot who makes a homophobic comment that his comment applies to you and you don't appreciate it.

I do think that being part of the community, attending social events, and advocacy and education *should* have a place in any LGBT person's life...but I might disagree that they are a requirement for being out. If the reason you don't do these things is that you are trying to avoid having it be known that you're LGBT, then that is closeted behavior. But if you are otherwise out/open about your sexuality, then I think you're still perfectly out if you don't attend social events because *you don't enjoy social events*, or if you don't educate because you don't feel you have your facts straight...or you consider yourself a lousy candidate for being an educator (perhaps the information is just too emotional for you to convey rationally).

Basically, being out is being out (as defined in my 3rd paragraph). Once you are, then to what extent you engage with the LGBT community is an individual (and often deeply personal) choice.

 

I really have to disagree with this statement. I am not sure how I would describe myself at this stage in my life...I am certainly not out and broadcasting the fact that I have recently acknowledged my attraction to women, but I am not necessarily taking steps to conceal my orientation so that nobody suspects it is what it is. I have shared my "awakening" I shall call it, with a few close people because I wanted them to know. I have been going through a lot of changes in my life and have changed my perspective on some things, so I chose to share my feelings with a select few such as my husband, my sister and a couple of very close friends. This was a choice I made to purposely share information about myself. So I can say that I took steps to reveal this information. But I would not consider myself as purposely taking steps to conceal my orientation so that nobody suspects it is what it is. I guess I look at myself as maybe falling in the category of being closeted, I don't know. I think from my perspective I am not sharing my acceptance of my sexuality with others because to me, in my situation, right now, it is irrelevant and for me that is what matters. What would be the purpose of telling others that I am bi---I am married and have been married to a man for eleven years. We have two children. At this point I have no plans on leaving my marriage because I have accepted that I am bi...so there is no need (as I see it anyway) to tell anyone else that I am bi. If the need arises that I will share the information, but at this point sharing the information serves no purpose for me. It is not a matter of me purposely choosing to conceal the information, it is a matter of me choosing not to share the information.

 

I think by biannika's definition, you would be considered out? Annika, correct me if I'm wrong.

 

Being Out means I no longer have to put up a facade that I'm something I'm not. I no longer have to worry about someone finding out I'm Gay. I no longer live with shame thinking something is wrong with me.

I can be me. I can truly be at peace with myself. I can explore a life that for so long I felt I'd never have.

I can simply be HAPPY.

 

I struggle with this. I'm out to my closest family members, a couple of friends, and my husband. But I don't feel like I can really consider myself OUT until I'm out of my marriage. Until then, I think I'll just feel like I'm playing a part, even though I'm sure I'm gay. That's a personal problem, but it's how I feel.

 

I think I may be able to offer a unique perspective on this.

I have an advantage that not a lot of people in our community have experienced. I was born into a queer household. My mom, though she's a single parent, is bisexual, and I grew up in the queer community, trekking along with my mother and her lesbian friends to huge women-only (but totally trans-inclusive) clothing-optional festivals where sassy elderly black women led groups on the use of dental dams, and the Indigo Girls performed, and everybody swam in the lake and did morning meditation. We went queer camping. We went to PRIDE. We visited the French Quarter in New Orleans, which is one of the gayest places on earth.

But I didn't think, growing up, that any of this was strange. My grandma and grandpa loved each other and it was wonderful and totally normal. My Godmother and her partner (now passed away from breast cancer, God rest her soul) loved each other, and it was wonderful and totally normal. There was no difference to me.

People ask me when I came out, and I have to explain that I was never actually in. In fact, until I started middle school and heard people using "gay" as a slur of sorts, I didn't realize that homosexuality (or non-heteronormality) was something that people hid. I certainly didn't understand why.

So what does being out mean to me? My whole life, it has always meant that I should be able to live my life just like everybody else. It means that the fact that I'm queer shouldn't even matter. Ever. It shouldn't matter to what kind of job I get, or how I'm treated by the general public, or what kind of rights I have, or how I relate to people. Of course it matters in some cases - it definitely influences my social group, but that's just because we gravitate toward people who have similar experiences to our own. If I were a tap dancer, I would probably want to hang out with other tap dancers.

All that said, though, I'm going through an interesting shift since my recent marriage - to a non-op transwoman. When people see my wedding ring, they get all excited and want me to tell them about my husband. There is a split second during which I consider saying something like "Oh, my partner is an English major" and letting them assume that "partner" means man if that's what they want to do, rather than correcting them outright and saying "Actually, I have a wife, and she's an English major."

I think being out means something different in each stage of our lives. I have always been queer. When I was a kid, being out meant playing with the boys on the playground and getting really mad when they tried to kiss me. In middle school, being out meant standing up for other queer kids who didn't have the confidence or the family support that I had. In high school, it meant speaking out when my health teacher said "There's a male and female role in every relationship," and it meant hosting a safe space for queer youth in the basement of my church. Now, being out means being open about my marriage, which is the best thing that has ever happened to me. In a few years it will be all about being a queer parent.

But again, it's still a goal towards normalcy for me, towards being able to live my life like everybody else does: get married, have a satisfying career, have a few kids, focus on parenthood, go to church, go to the beach with my family, watch my kids grow up, have grandkids, retire to Florida or a cabin in the mountains or something. None of that should be dependent or conditional upon my queerness. I should be able to just be a wife, not a lesbian wife. I just want to be a parent, not a lesbian parent. I want to be a minister, not a lesbian minister. Normalcy. Normalcy is good.

 

Fascinating! What a time!

 

I haven't figured out what being out means to me yet. I'm getting there though.
Just coming out to my partner has given me a sense of myself. The person who has been hiding for so long.
I'm finding my taste in clothing is changing, I'm wearing different jewellery and the long hair I've been hiding behind is gone as of this morning. I'm allowing myself to look at women the way I want to, and finding it much easier to talk to people in general.
I know I have a long way to go, but if this is the change from being out to one person, bring it on!
I'm becoming the person I've been running away from for so long.