For the last few days, I’ve been telling myself that I should write something about National Coming Out Day, which is, after all, today. I figured I should write something personal and timely and maybe a little emotional. After all, it is National Coming Out Day — and doesn’t a day like that deserve a few key words?
But after several attempts at brainstorming, I realized that I’ve got nothing. I’ve got nothing to say about a day dedicated to coming out. Why is that? Because there’s something so tedious about coming out. About needing to declare your sexuality publicly to the world. About a day devoted to thinking about who is (or isn’t) gay. I only care if you’re gay or straight if I want to date you, but I care as much about whether you’re single. I really just want to know if you’re available — to me.
Remember when there was all the fuss about Matt Bomer being too gay to star in Fifty Shades of Grey? I didn’t care. I may have been a little disappointed when Wentworth Miller from Prison Break came out, but that’s only because part of me always hoped maybe I would date him some day. I also get a little disappointed when I find out stars I like are married, it doesn’t matter to whom. It just kills the fantasy ever so slightly.
I appreciate that, to certain people, coming out may require fanfare and a special day. But I also wish that coming out was less of a big deal because people’s sexualities were less of a big deal. I don’t really care if you’re Democrat or Republican or Independent, and I’m glad there isn’t a day when everyone announces their political affiliation. Your individual personal beliefs might inspire or offend me, but that is going to be the case regardless of with which general party you align or with whom you lie in bed, so you can keep that information to yourself unless it’s relevant to the current situation.
One of my problems with some gay people is the militant and strident way with which they declare their sexuality. I realize they are making up for lost time, I realize that it’s a way to inspire others and or declare their own personal pride, but it tends to make me yawn. My sexuality is not the key attribute with which I define myself. Sure, it might be part of the package, but I’m not going to wrap it around my body and shout it at the heavens.
I’m not going to listen to lesbian music at lesbian bars on lesbian nights with lesbian friends wearing lesbian clothing and drinking lesbian drinks (do those last two exist?). I’m simply going to be me — on this day and any other day.
So while I might like the sentiment behind National Coming Out Day — be yourself, don’t hide, be proud, whatever — I don’t like the idea of it feeling limited to one day, or the emphasis that private information should be celebrated publicly.
I know this sounds naive and sentimental, but just be yourself and the rest will follow.