How can a well adjusted mo such as myself find internalized homophobia popping up and rearing it's ugly head? It just doesn't make sense . . .
I recently met up with an old friend from high school. We haven't maintained a friendship over the past 15 or 16 years, but we were tight back in the day. "So what have you been doing for a decade & a half?"
That's an interesting question, since my answer goes something like this: I've become an activist, I went to grad school, I have a good job that allows me to help make the world a better place sometimes, I fell in love, I bought a house, and I have a great life. Oh, and I'm queer as a $3 bill.
I had one heck of a time deciding whether to come out. I thought seriously about passing on the opportunity to reconnect for fear of . . . well I'm not really sure what. Of not being accepted? No, I am totally okay with that. Of freaking her out? I told myself that, but it's not right either. The truth is that I can't explain why I was afraid.
I know all the logical answers to these questions: If she doesn't accept me, it's her problem, not mine; If she's the same caring person she was when we were kids, she'll be totally fine with this; I'm so dykey and always have been that she probably already knows. On top of that, I'm a radical queer. I don't give a shit if people are uncomfortable with my reality. I was on TV protesting Colorado's amendment 2! I was outside the hospital when Matthew Shepard died throwing insults back & forth with bigots fer piss sakes!
I ended up coming out, and as my logical side predicted, she was totally cool with it. But why did it take me 3 days to muster up the courage?
The only moral I can drag out of this story is that this is exactly how homophobes want me to feel, and I need to try and not do this again next time. They've done such a good job of selling their message that it's in my head. MY head!! Fuck you, message in my head.