Coming Out Landmark Day’s Painful Process Inspires Locals To Tell Their Tales

Coming out is a process which can take years - even a lifetime. Everyone’s process is different. The truth is that no matter how hard or painful coming out is, people can and do live through it. It is a pivotal point in each person’s life. Beyond the coming out process is growth and finding a life without fear. In recognition of National Coming Out Day next Wednesday, here are the personal stories of three local residents:

Carol

When you come out, suddenly you are no longer the person your friends and family have known and loved for years. You lose your humanity, you become every gay or lesbian stereotype, every joke, every pedophile or mass murderer they’ve heard of. You become the representative for the whole gay community. Few people want that job.

When I discovered I was in love with a woman I was surprised. I knew I wasn’t anything like all the horrible things I’d heard. I had just had seven bad experiences with men within three months. I started hanging out with an acquaintance of mine at college. I asked her to set me up with one of her male friends.

When I figured out it was this woman I was so happy to be with, not the guy, I was quite surprised. I had no idea how to tell her. I talked to God a lot, then I finally put it in God’s hands. My friend wanted me to move in with her, and over time our relationship evolved. We went to Seattle where it was much easier to be out. That was our honeymoon.

When I came home there was a definite chill to the reception I got from my parents. My mother had gone through my room and found a love letter from my girlfriend which left nothing to the imagination. I was asked if it was true. I felt like I was at the Spanish Inquisition. After 13 years we’re still together. I tell people that’s 39 in straight years. I think it took my parents time to adjust to it. I know both of them had biases that they had to deal with. I think they came to realize I was still me, not some monster.

Helen

My story is that of a parent coming to terms with having a lesbian daughter. I grew up in a homophobic family; jokes and sly remarks were the only way we talked about someone who was gay. During the many years of social change I became an activist for civil rights, equal rights and human rights.

One day when my oldest daughter came home on spring break with a girlfriend, I noticed how different they treated each other. They were more attentive, more aware. Bells started going off for me. Later that night I confronted her. She told me she was a lesbian. For the next three years I hid in my closet. I didn’t talk to anyone about it. I was afraid for my daughter. The only thing I did right was keep our lines of communication open even though I felt very awkward. Finally I needed answers, and the only person I felt comfortable talking with was my daughter’s partner.

Then in September 1984 I went to P-Flag and confessed to my ignorance and prejudice. I cried when the meeting was over. A woman came up to me and said, “I wish you were my mother.” At P-Flag I found a supportive, loving family. Having a lesbian daughter has enriched me. I love her because of who she is, not in spite of who she is. Having one foot in both worlds has taught me a lot. Every year I help lead the pride march and I am proud to say I’m the mother of one in 10.

Kevin

I’ve always liked National Coming Out Day because October is when I came out, first to myself in ‘87, then publicly in ‘89. By that time I was out to my family and my close friends. I was in school at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. I was tired of having to edit whatever I said. I was even more tired of listening to people spew their hatred, their homophobia. I came to a point I didn’t care what the reaction would be. I came out when the cost of being in the closet was greater than the cost of being out.

BYU is not the best place to come out. Out of 35,000 students I was the only out person I knew of. I knew lots of closeted gay men who started to avoid me, I think because they didn’t want to be guilty by association. It’s a very conservative school. BYU has “The Standards Office.” It is like “Big Brother” - you can’t be kicked out for being gay, but you can get kicked out for having gay relations. The Standards Office would yank people out of class to question them. They’d ask, “Who are you sleeping with? Do you know anyone who is gay?”

I was afraid I’d get kicked out. There was only one other person who I knew was out. He’d graduated and was out at work. Together we formed a two-person support group. Provo is so isolated it’s very homogenous. To be different in any way is difficult. Friends would ask me if I thought other people were gay. I became good at seeing where that person was in their struggle and recognized it as a place where I had been. I could almost gauge when they would come out. People usually leave Provo before they come out. When I left I began a healing process. I got rid of the pain and uncovered the passion and the creativity. Pain blocks so many things.

People ask me how I can be out in Spokane. I tell them I was out in Provo, I can be out anywhere.

MEMO: On Oct. 11, National Coming Out Day, a panel presentation and discussion about coming out will begin at 7 p.m. For the location and other information, call K. K. Robby Robbins at 459-8111. Robbins is the facilitator of Coming Home to the Heart, a support group for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender adults.