THE LAUREN PROJECT

Coming out as conflicted about coming out

lexiconcarne:

As my last few reblogs indicate, I’m obviously having some thoughts and feels about National Coming Out Day. To paraphrase Judith Butler, what does it even mean to come out? What do you know about me now that you didn’t know before? You might now know that “I am” but you don’t know what that means, or what it means to me in particular.

And yet, for many queer people being out is important. Being visible — being read — as queer by other queers can be powerful. Lots of people are forced to come out over and over again: femmes, PoC, poor people, people whose bodies are desexualized (hallo fats and disabled folks), or those who just don’t conform to the current notion of what a queer person “looks like.” These queers are constantly fighting to carve out space for themselves in the community. And speaking of community, how many people feel they are not “queer enough” to even come out? I wish someone would inform me who the fuck set that standard and how might I go about smashing it to bits.

So some folks are made invisible or unwelcome while still others never get a choice about coming out. If they were ever in the closet it was a glass closet. Heterosexist gendered expectations made their sexuality hyper-visible. And who protects those queers who are forced out? So often they are young, vulnerable, and without resources. What does National Coming Out Day mean for someone who has been kicked out of their parents house for being queer? Or sent to therapy to “fix” their sexuality?

Coming out is frequently touted as a way to raise awareness about the existence of LGBT people. Folks like Dan Savage advocate coming out to give a human face to the specter of queerness that causes homophobia. Queer celebrities in particular are called upon to take on this task. I am firmly unconvinced that this is a good enough reason to come out. While the risks of coming out are not uniform across the whole queer population (*cough*checkyourprivilege*cough), neither is it any individual queer person’s job to be a poster child and educate the populous.

I am not often read as queer. Even if someone manages to figure out that I’m a dyke (or, you know, I tell them) I am still almost never read as genderqueer/nonbinary/trans. Sometimes that hurts. Other times the (false) safety of passing privilege is a shameful pleasure. But the idea that coming out conveys some clear and unmistakable truth about who I am as a person, about what it means or feels like to be me, doesn’t seem right either.

TL;DR: Coming out is complicated and having a national day celebrating it feels overly simplistic. Shallow lip service to a glossy ideal doesn’t do much to bring actual progress and rarely addresses the most vulnerable members of our community. Just because (you think) you know who I fuck doesn’t mean you know me.

yes yes yes

Oh, these thoughts also.

Source: lexiconcarne