I swore I wasn’t going to do this on my blog. I told at least three people I wouldn’t, in fact. And yet, here I am, finding that sometimes, when we speak publicly about things, then we are obligated to be honest about our own lives. With that cryptic opening, I’m taking a deep breath and plunging in.
In the last six months, a lot of things happened that I won’t get into now but which sent me into a sort of blogging burn-out limbo. Terrified of saying the wrong thing in the wrong way, I stopped posting much. It wasn’t all bad; I focused on finishing a novel and starting another one, along with several beta-reading projects and some good, old-fashioned pleasure reading. I hoped that my time away would be healing.
It wasn’t.
I was still occasionally experiencing mild panic attacks, bouts of having to hold back tears, and general anxiety, particularly related to the various messes on social media and among my fellow bloggers. I had retreated so far into myself that I buried my feelings, which then leaked out in incredibly unhealthy ways.
Then, over the last several weeks, three things happened. First, a friend contacted me and asked if I was all right. At the time, I was cleaning up the final draft of my manuscript, so I was feeling pretty good. I said I was okay, dismissed the offer to chat casually, and went on with my life. I was honestly puzzled, as I had no real idea that my online bloggy drama was bleeding over into other places. After all, I’d already cut myself away from the community that was eating me alive, and I figured my emotional state was just residual from that.
About four weeks ago, this article happened. I blogged about it, in fact. But just reading it triggered an entire day (I’m not exaggerating in the slightest) of on-and-off feeling overwhelmed, miserable, and teary. Being Saturday, I lit my candles, said the rosary, and then collapsed into sobbing. Even then, I had no idea why I was crying, only that I could identify the feeling as grief and loss, rather than some other emotion.
I tried to piece it together, and it wasn’t until about two weeks later that it all came together. (In a future post, I’ll explain; this one is too long already.) First, I talked to my husband. Then my sister and two friends. I decided I didn’t really have anything to hide, so I was just going to more or less do the live-and-let-live thing. Mostly, I had myself convinced that, as I usually do, that I and my feelings are comparatively unimportant.
And then I read this. (You really should read it too; it’s important.) And said to myself, Oh, shit. No, actually, I did. I felt like Janet Edwards was speaking to me. She called me out on not acknowledging my whole self. And oh, dear God, that hurt, mostly because I knew she was right. Three things particularly struck me:
I identify as bisexual because I know I am able to love people of my own gender and of a gender different from me. I’m not straight, but I can pass as straight because I am married to a man.
and
I cannot love God with my whole heart when I am keeping a central aspect of my self—my soul and body—hidden from both myself and from others.
and
Because I am so solidly protected by being in a marriage with a man, this very protection compels me to speak up for those whose voices have long been silenced and whose sense of self or livelihood is still regularly threatened by the church.
I relate to—and agree with—all of that. Which is to say, like Dr. Edwards, I am a bisexual woman married to a man, living with all the privileges and responsibilities granted to me as such. If I’m to keep blogging, keep tweeting, and even keep writing novels, there is no way to do that without telling people who I am.
Because I am so solidly protected by being in a marriage with a man, this very protection compels me to speak up for those whose voices have long been silenced and whose sense of self or livelihood is still regularly threatened by the church – See more at: http://www.believeoutloud.com/latest/confession-bisexual-granted-straight-privilege#sthash.PvbY15QZ.dpufI identify as bisexual because I know I am able to love people of my own gender and of a gender different from me. I’m not straight, but I can pass as straight because I am married to a man. – See more at: http://www.believeoutloud.com/latest/confession-bisexual-granted-straight-privilege#sthash.PvbY15QZ.dpuf
There’s been a lot to process, and I do want to share that journey with you, if you’re willing to read it. But first and foremost, a big part of me feels like I owe some people an apology. I am honestly, deeply sorry if my own failure to acknowledge who I am has been hurtful. Please understand that it’s not because I’ve ever judged anyone else unworthy but because of my own twisted belief that things are okay for everyone else but me. (It would take a novel to explain how I ended up in that place.) I have not been lying or pretending or even hiding; I simply refused to see what was right there in front of me.
Please also know that by owning my identity, I am not seeking some kind of authority. I hold no claims on speaking for an entire and vastly diverse community of people. I’m not even speaking on behalf of the comparatively small minority of long-time married, liberal Christian women who come to terms with their sexuality twenty years after their adolescence. I speak for no one but myself. I do, however, both acknowledge the privilege I’m afforded and stand in solidarity with other LGBTQ people.
I’m sure many of you will have questions for me, and I’m happy to answer them. I’m equally sure I will lose friends over this. That makes me a little sad, but I also understand why. If it would be a point of contention between us, I’d rather we part respectfully than that we waste time talking past each other.
If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. I would love to talk with you all more, and if you put any questions you have for me in the comments, I will do my best to answer them. When I’m able, I’ll share my journey with you. Being able to embrace my whole self is a process, and not an easy one at that. But my hope is that in being fully honest, I can return to writing as a better person than when I stepped away.
Much love to you all, and I hope to hear from you.
Much love to you. You’re a gifted blogger and I look forward to hearing about your journey more, when you are able. 🙂
Thanks! 🙂 It took a bit, but I’m excited to be able to share my story with my readers.
(Grr. I did it again. Can you delete the comment above from my work acct.?)
Much love! I don’t see someone as lying because they don’t tell me about their sexuality. People often assume I’m straight because I’ve been married to a man for 18 years, but that’s more their problem than mine. I never hear straight people come out and tell all their friends they are straight. I don’t see a difference.
But when people WANT to tell others, I think it is fantastic. The more diverse voices we hear, the better.
Removed the other one. 🙂
I think if I weren’t a blogger writing about LGBTQ stuff, I probably would see no need to say anything to anyone other than my husband. Since that is what I often write about, I decided it was important to say it, and I realized I wanted to write about it. Words are kind of my thing. LOL!
Yeah, it makes sense. I understand and it certainly adds context. I just wouldn’t judge someone who didn’t explain their own sexuality, even if they wrote about those issues. I personally feel like people should own who they are – in all these aspects – but I know that my values and experiences don’t match everyone else’s.
I see disclosure as positive in this light because the more people who are honest about who they are, the more acceptance or at least tolerance we will create. However the people who are honest have to also deal with the negative aspects of that honesty, and for some people those negatives are just too harmful to make honesty worthwhile.
An extreme, but real, example of this might be gay teens who have conservative parents. While I couldn’t ever counsel someone to hide their sexuality, I also realize that there is a very real danger of losing support when you are not ready to take care of yourself. So in this instance, I couldn’t advise someone to come out either. Another example might be the discrepancy between men and women bisexuals (it’s way more “ok” to be bi as a woman than a man). Bi men are often told they are gay (bi erasure), so sometimes it’s easier to just leave your own sexuality out altogether, lest that become the topic.
But when people feel like they want to say something and that it’s important, I am totally supportive. That is the best case scenario! Really the more people who speak up, the better.
100% yes. I would never, ever fault anyone who felt either the need to keep that information private or thought it unnecessary to share. For me, I decided that for the sake of some people who read and share my writing, it was important to talk about it. Even I might have felt differently if I were still blogging anonymously. It also makes a difference to me to be fully who I am given that I’m in process of becoming a published author.
Bi erasure is something I’ve been fighting against since before I understood myself. I’ve seen it happen far too often. (In fact, I even wrote about it in my first novel.) It seems to me that as a bi woman, I have a ton more support than bi men experience, just from what some of my friends have had said and done to them. So hurtful.
Yay! You are beautiful and brave and I love you!
Imma call you later, too. 🙂
🙂 I love you.
Welcome, sister! Please accept this gift basket containing a dozen rainbow cookies, the latest Tegan and Sara album, and a complete DVD set of Lost Girl. 😀
Perfect!
I would have done this sooner if someone had told me there were COOKIES involved! 😀
Amy, thank you for sharing this part of your story in such an open and thoughtful way. All our journeys of self-realization and coming out are so unique–and almost always are so GRADUAL, too. My therapist taught me this mantra that I say to myself when I feel guilt or shame or that I’ve not measured up somehow: “Have compassion for yourself.” That what I am hoping for you as you continue on this journey.
Thanks. It feels very, very good to be fully honest. I’ve been surprised by the support. My own fear has always been that I will either be disliked or that I will deeply hurt someone else. It seems like the opposite is actually true. I think it’s about time I started practicing “having compassion for myself.”
And the truth shall set you free!!!!
Absolutely! I definitely feel freedom. 🙂
You are probably one of the bravest people I know. Seriously, I’m in awe. Amen and hallelujah!
I almost don’t know what else to say except I love you and support you 100%.
Aw, no other words necessary. Your support means a lot to me. You, too, are one brave, honest woman, and I’m glad to know you.
Thank you for this. You are brave, and beautiful, and I am proud to know you, if only on the internet.
Many thanks! I’m glad to have gotten to know you online as well. 🙂 Anyone who thinks internet friendships can’t be “real” just hasn’t experienced any! LOL.
Woo-hoo, Team Bi all the way!
We need a mascot and a fight song. And team colors. I propose pink and black.
You are the same person to me today as you were yesterday – makes no difference to me, but thanks for sharing. I know it took courage. As for those who “unfollow” – they don’t define you. Live your truth! Blessings to you this Easter!
Thanks! For the first time in ages, I’m finding that I don’t feel any need to define myself by anyone else’s view of me. That took me by surprise. I guess I thought that if people judged me, I would take it to heart like I have most other things. But I didn’t, and that feels right. 🙂
i just, i just think you’re amazing. i love your openness, your honesty.
i want to have big important things to say. you’re unfolding, and it’s lovely.
No big and important words needed…I appreciate you so much. <3 And I like "unfolding." That's a perfect word.
Beautiful post. Thank you for trusting us with it. Your strength and vulnerability together are inspiring.
Thank you so much! 🙂