Does Visibility Matter?
In honor of March being Bisexual Health Awareness Month, I’m taking a moment to meditate on the question, “Does visibility matter?”
When I came out as bisexual (or pansexual depending on your preferred nomenclature) on October 11, 2016 (yes, on National Coming Out Day — cliche but apropo, don’t you think?), the response I received was overwhelmingly positive. The outpouring of love, support, and encouragement was spectacular.
There were some questions.
“But aren’t you married?”
…or…
“Does that mean you want an open marriage now or you’re getting divorced?”
I clarified that my sexual orientation has nothing to do with monogamy. Just like a heterosexual (or homosexual) in a committed, monogamous marriage doesn’t look outside the relationship for additional partners, neither does a bisexual person in a committed monogamous marriage. That’s not to disparage couples who do choose to have an open marriage. (Different strokes for different folks, right?) That’s just not me. Also, there are certainly cases (such as being in a hetero relationship and then coming out as gay or lesbian or coming out as transgender) where a change in marital status would completely make sense.
Since coming out wouldn’t change my marital situation, I really struggled with whether it was even necessary to come out. Apparently, that’s not unusual…
Even so, I decided that I needed to come out for my own peace of mind. The older I get, the more important it has become for me to live with integrity and authenticity.
Anyway, back to my coming out story… I made through almost the entire day on Cloud 9 because it could have gone a LOT worse. Then, around 7 in the evening, I see a message from my sister-in-law.
Sidenote: We aren’t bosom buddies, and I know she didn’t care for me when I was first introduced as the fiance 14 years ago, but I figured we’d reached a good place in our relationship. Plus, she’s a makeup artist in her spare time and is a fairly creative person — flamenco dancing, playing the flute, singing choral music, and acting. With those interests, she must have some LGBTQ+ friends or acquaintances, right?
Back to the story… I opened the Facebook message (which was a group message that included my husband, my parents, my brother, my brother & sister-in laws, and their adult kids — my nieces and nephew). Well, while she’s known for speaking her mind, I was completely floored by the negativity she spewed… IN A GROUP MESSAGE.
Apparently:
- For the previous 14 years that she’d known me, she never liked nor trusted me because she thought I was using her brother (never mind that I make more money than he does — which he’s totally on board with — and we have joint banking, so what’s mine is his and vice versa).
- I’m a liar for misleading him and marrying him (even though my bisexuality is something I only recently came to understand AND it doesn’t affect my commitment to my marriage vows).
- I’m a horrible mother to my two kids because it’s just a matter of time before I ditch my husband and leave him as a single parent. (Did I mention that she thinks she’s the authority on my family, but she’s never been married and has no children? Just thought I’d mention that…)
- She couldn’t understand how I had shared my coming out on Facebook (after having come out to our families) because it embarrassed my husband. (She didn’t actually check with him, of course, or else she would have known that he’d okayed my coming out plans.)
- I’m a horrible human being and should be ashamed of myself. (If she had included an executive summary with her rant, I’m POSITIVE that would have been it.)
Her hateful vitriol had me in tears — not because any of it was true, but because she seemed to have no reservations about being intentionally cruel to someone (myself) who’d been nothing but kind to her. I’d just finished teaching an evening class, and instead of working on my next lecture or grading before leaving campus, I was bawling at my computer unable to leave campus for fear I’d have an accident.
Here’s the thing: I one of the most mild-mannered people you’ll ever meet, and I would bend over backward, crawl through a hollow log, and scale a chainlink fence to avoid hurting someone else if I could. I’d literally sacrificed my own mental and physical health being inauthentic and trying to be who I thought others expected me to be (more on that in upcoming posts). So the fact that my sister-in-law could say any of the mean things she did says more about her and her issues than about me. And, she clearly had no clue of who I am.
I explained as much in a carefully thought out group reply where I went out of my way to let her know I appreciated her concern as a big sister, clear up her misconceptions, and let her know that I believed they were based in ignorance, not malice.
Sure, I could have avoided her unnecessary drama by not coming out. I could have continued to keep that aspect of my identity hidden — invisible. Maybe that would have made her more comfortable. Maybe. However, I also expressed that coming out — being transparent where possible and in a broad forum — was part of my spiritual calling as a teacher. I feel strongly that if I’ve learned something useful from the path I’ve travelled, it’s my responsibility to share that knowledge.
Over the course of that day, I received private messages from several people who shared that they were bisexuals but (for whatever reasons) weren’t really out. I also had parents in my circle who shared that their teen or young adult child had come out and wondering if I minded be a sounding board so they could be as supportive as possible without alienation. None of that would have happened if I’d remained silent — invisible.
As a Black woman, when some well-intentioned person says they’re “color-blind,” or asks, “Why do we always have to discuss race,” I cringe.
They think they’re saying, “Hey, I’m not a racists!” What many people of color hear is a very patronizing, “Your race is something negative. But (because I’m such a wonderful person), I’ won’t hold it against you. I’ve chosen to pretend it doesn’t exist in an effort to treat you equally.”
Instead, what if you could treat someone like a human being AND appreciate all of the differences (and similarities) that make them unique? What if you could love ALL of your neighbors without tacking on the phase “despite” (either mentally or verbally)?
I am glorious with all my talents, knowledge, love, quirkiness, and imperfections. I am more than the sum of my parts, but each part is valuable and meaningful.
So, if I’ve been brave enough to share a non-obvious aspect of my identity, it’s because I want you to SEE me — the real me.
For more, follow my new Medium mobile series Bi+ Visibility.
