By the way... I'm GAY! (Did you hear? I'm GAY!)

Blue-state America or not, there are consequences to coming out of one's closet. One of the most frustrating is that phase when people newly out of the closet remind you of their sexuality at every possible opportunity. You know what I'm talking about. "Anybody want to go for pizza? My GAY stomach is rumbling." "I'd like to pay for this dish detergent, please. As a GAY PERSON, it's important to wash my dishes regularly." "Sure! I'll -- I'm GAY! -- get that -- I'm GAY! -- report for you -- I'm GAY! -- by the end of the -- I'm GAY! -- day. By the way, I'm GAY!"

Don't give me that look. You know it's true. I have empirical evidence. I have seen it (and suffered through it) every time somebody I know has made the transition. That must be, what, three or four times? Since the plural of anecdote is data, this must be a universal phenomenon.

The constant reference to one's gayness I can take. It's the innuendo that gets embarrassing -- the "innocent" touching, the clumsy joking come-ons, the double entendres. It makes the straights (and closeted) among us uncomfortable, and there's no call for that. On the one hand, we give the straights that old line about how we're the same person as we always were, and on the other we transform into these exuberantly sexual beings, rubbing our sexuality in everybody's faces. Please. We know you're gay. You never shut up about it. That doesn't give you licence to grab arbitrary people's butts.

I'm self-hating again, aren't I?

Look. I understand that this is a natural consequence of the coming- out process. I obsess over my sexuality, too. I suppress those catty comments and innuendos. I feel that terrible loneliness that comes from keeping my sexuality stoppered up, with no one to whom and no place where I feel comfortable discussing my sexuality. I suffer through the thoughtless comments the straights make in my presence. Coming out of the closet means letting go of that suppression. It means being open and honest about an aspect of ourselves that is very important. That freedom is intoxicating, and we have a natural desire to take advantage of that freedom at every opportunity. All those comments and thoughts and double entendres burst out -- all over our friends and family and co-workers and softball teammates. All those people who have supported us and kept our big secret a secret until we were ready to come out -- those are the people who get to cringe as we spout our tactless statements and actions. We're too giddy to notice our blunders, so those who love us take on our shame for us.

And -- let's face it -- they wonder. They wonder what has happened to us, and whether being out and gay means we are going to act like this forever.

Yeah, yeah. Being out of the closet means being open about your sexuality. Repressing our words means we're still in the closet and giving into the straights. We must be honest about who we are, so we get to do and say whatever we want. Blah, blah, blah. There's a time and a place for everything, says I.

I think most of us grow out of the giddiness. We learn when it is appropriate to make the catty comments and when we should shut up. We find friends and peer groups with whom we can banter all we want. We learn that being wronged in the past does not make it right for us to wrong others in turn. But that phase in between is hard and embarrassing. It's that phase of our adolescences we never got to live because we were huddling in our closets, and like the rest of adolescence it is frequently ridiculous.

I don't want to go through that. I don't want to put those around me through that. But tactful social interaction has never been one of my strengths, and I feel those comments and actions bubbling up every day. Sooner or later the cork will pop.

Livejournal URL: http://lonelyache.livejournal.com/1802.html

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