Free To Be Me

I have thought much about coming out at work, plotted, schemed – planned it like a surgical strike. But it seems that my planning was for naught. No, not a slip-up, not caught holding hands in an eatery. But as usual, I am ahead of the story.

My office manager is a sweet person and a friend; someone I would have been happy to share my new life with. The only reason I have not come out to her is that I no longer invite people into my closet and the doors are not scheduled for demolition for another three weeks. But we still talk and this week I make another reference to my separation. My office manager nods her head and reminds me that as long as I am happy, as long as I am comfortable with myself – well then it’s really okay with everyone.

I know this conversation, I know those comments. They are the comments I receive when I come out to someone. It is inescapable – she must know. A little later in the day our paths cross again, another quiet moment: I take the plunge. “It seems you have a theory of my separation.” She laughs and says “I figured it out a while ago.” It seems that a few people have, as I like to say, connected the dots.

Now to be honest, I have left quite the trail of bread crumbs. It is not that I wanted to be caught as much as I live my life openly. How many separated men still occasionally brown bag lunches made by the ex. And a room in her new house – office manager tells me that was the real lynchpin for her. And I do spend nights with a friend in the City – I never mention gender, but…….. And of late there is a picture across from my desk – two friends on vacation, bathing suits and baseball caps. Seems innocent enough…

But there is a piece of the equation that should have been obvious. I spend my days working with highly intelligent professionals trained to connect dots, to separate wheat from chaff, to not be fooled. And fooled they were not.

So it remains a quiet topic but it is clear: my co-workers know that I am gay. It has been seamless: I could not tell you when they figured it out, and I suspect in a sense neither could they. Our interactions are unchanged, it is a non-event.

And in this, my gratitude knows no bounds. I never wanted to come out – I just wanted to be out. It may seem like a fine distinction, but to me it is as different as night and day. Coming out has an element of being a “statement” and is frankly a personal matter. But being out is the ability to be myself without worry or self consciousness.

I am sure there will be bumps – this is real life and there is much prejudice still out there. But still every morning I walk into my office feeling neither shame nor pride. Just being me; and really that is more than enough.