I'M OUT! I'M IN!

"I'M OUT! I'M IN!".... Or some other hilarious lyrics quoted from a song I wrote with a friend in high school. 

Serious, though -- it's the obligatory "coming out" post that I am now dedicating to this blog. I know, I know... I can sense the eyes rolling from where I type.

"Why does every queer blog have to dredge up the past and play it out in another dull coming out story?"

I, for one, think the process/adventure/occasional nightmare is a valuable one. While the knowledge that my life will consist of a perpetual "coming  out" is.... well, daunting at best, I am aware that the constant construction/rearrangement of this particular tale is one of the foundational parts of me (and, I think it might just be one of those core pieces of yourself, too).

I currently straddle the lines between "out" and "in," a position I'm aiming to change in the next-to-near future.

While I was fulfilling my four years as a plucky undergrad, I was out. SO out. In fact, it was in my first year of university that I even named myself to other people. I can still remember O-Week and all the pink triangles and chalk rainbows that led me to a Queer Equality picnic held at one of the most public places on campus. Hoo, was THAT ever a nerve-wracking experience.

I think the defining moment for me was the first CampOut meeting I ever attended and - LO! The topic: Coming out. Imagine it -- a trembling, little 18-year-old clutching the sides of her chair and saying, "Hi, um.... my name is (Miz Moffatt) and...... well, this is my coming out." I was met with such overwhelming support (which is none too surprising, considering the crowd). Can you imagine? The first people I came out to were complete strangers. I needed to find definite support before I would even risk telling the people closest to me.

Now, the tally is still a modest one:

• Ian, Colin, and Andrew: The gents I lived with while at school 
• Chantal: My best friend from high school
• My sister .... though we never, EVER discuss it

Alas -- I'm still rather "in" by most standards, I'd imagine. I'm not out to the majority of my high school friends, my brother, or my parents. As odd as it might sound, I almost feel that it.... devalues me. I've come across such a large number of women who wouldn't even cast me a second glance if they knew I wasn't out to my parents. I can understand the hesitation there, though -- coming out is quite enough stress on its own, let alone going through it with someone else. Still, it's worrisome to feel this kind of pressure from the queer community to out yourself even while it might contradict your current social situation.

Ah, but this is a common thread in most personal stories, isn't it? 

I find myself daydreaming of the time when I can relax my concerns and walk about with a shrug and a smile close at hand.

.... Though, I think the particularly dyke-ish poem I showed around during first year (including to my parents) has probably paved most of the way for me....... that could also explain why no one has been surprised after I came out to them yet.... *Ponders this*