Yesterday was National Coming Out Day. Throughout history, people have remained in the closet for various reasons, but in this day and age, people are more comfortable and confident in coming out. Coming out is something that only a minority of people have to do. Only members of the LGBTQ+ community are forced to declare our sexuality in order to be true to ourselves. Some in the LGBTQ+ community, never come out, and that is their choice to make. For a lot of people, it’s a very difficult choice.

Yesterday, I posted the Robert Frost poem, “The Road Not Taken.” It’s final lines say:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

At some point in an LGBTQ+ individual’s life, they have certain choices they must make: Do I accept who I am? Will I hide who I really am from the world? If not, who do I want to come out to first? Who else do I want to know? Then, once out of the closet, we are forced to come out over and over again. Coming out has been the “road not taken” for many people. The LGBTQ+ community is a minority, and thus coming out becomes the road “less traveled by.” For me, taking that “less traveled by” road has made all the difference.

When I was a teenager, it was inconceivable to me that I was gay. It took me being in college and reading some books, seeing some gay porn, and eventually exploring the internet before I realized that: Yes, I am gay. When I look back now, it seems crazy that I did not know I was gay. I had “crushes” on guys. I admired good looking guys. Hell, I even masturbated to guys at night when I was alone in my bedroom. How did I not realize I was gay when I only really fantasized and dreamed about guys? It was never women. I dated girls and even had sex with a few, but it was guys that I to whom I felt any kind of attraction.

Looking back, I bought fitness magazines and International Male catalogs. I told myself that I wanted to look like those guys. I wanted to have their physiques, even though I never have achieved that. I still told myself that I admired their bodies, but that I wasn’t attracted to them. Even with the guys I had fantasies about (and thought about being naked with them and doing sexual things with them), it never occurred to me that I might want a boyfriend or that I was gay. No, I told myself that I liked the way they looked, and I wanted to look like them. 

Obviously, I was deluding myself because I was always taught that the worst thing to be was a “faggot.” That’s how the bullies tortured me. They called me a “faggot,” “fag,” or “sissy.” I was so scared I was one, that I could not let myself believe that I was one. I was taught it was something wrong and dirty. God, how they fucked us up! 

Anyway, I’m curious. For those of you who did not come out early in life, who came out in college or later, what did you tell yourself about your attraction to guys? How did you justify to yourself that you were “straight” yet had an attraction to guys? I was so far in denial that I deluded myself into thinking it was just the admiration for guy’s physiques. What was your reasoning?

There is no poem post today. I have something very important to tell you about. I will likely post a poem tomorrow.

National Coming Out Day (NCOD) turned out to be more emotional than I could have expected. My niece, now my nephew, came out as trans (FTM) on Facebook. I don’t have the habit of checking Facebook often, but for some reason, I did check it first thing yesterday morning. At the top of my timeline was a post from my niece. While I was reading it, her name changed to his new name. I was immediately concerned for two reasons: 1) if this were true, this would not go well with his parents, and 2) if it wasn’t true, my niece was an insensitive jerk making a bad joke. I kept an eye on his Facebook page, and in a few hours, the post was gone. The name had reverted to the old name. No one commented on the post, so I am not sure how many people saw it. He’d posted it after midnight when presumably his parents had gone to bed, and I’m sure as soon as they saw it (my sister is always on Facebook), they made him take it down. I had a feeling it might be true since the terminology used was correct and the timing of the post as soon as it was officially NCOD. But I had to know for sure. I didn’t want him to be alone and scared if this was true.

I called my mom to find out what was going on, but she was in the dark about the whole thing. My mother’s response was, “I hope it’s not true.” I then told her the statistics of trans suicides and reminded her I had tried to commit suicide when I was a teenager. I told her she had to lend her support and that my sister needed to know what the consequences could be if she denied this child the necessary support. My mother told me to call my niece and ask her what was going on. My mother did say, “Don’t encourage her in this.” I said, “Mama, I will give her all the love and support she needs. I am not going to discourage her. She needs to know she is loved, accepted, and supported 100 percent.” My mother didn’t say anything more after that.

I hung up with my mother and called my niece. The phone was answered and immediately hung up. I then received a text asking if I was ok. I replied, “I was calling to see if you were OK.” He said, “Uh, physically yes.” I told him, “I saw your Facebook post. Please know you can always talk to me about anything.” He said his mom and dad freaked out, and I said, “Is it true? If it is, I love you and support you 100 percent.” He confirmed it was true and thanked me for supporting him. Then, I did something I had not planned to do until this kid went to college and was away from my sister and her husband. I told him I’d come out as gay twenty years ago and lived as an out gay man here in Vermont. He was shocked but thought that was “amazing.” How anyone doesn’t realize I am gay always boggles my mind, but he is 14 and sees me about once a year. We texted back and forth for a while, and I told him how much I supported him. I said he could always talk to me and count on me. I would do anything I could.

The good thing is that his aunt, my brother-in-law’s sister, was the first person he came out to in the family. She is, and has been, very supportive. He has always been closer to his aunt than with me probably because she lives near him. I rarely lived close by except for the six years when I moved back to Alabama after graduate school. However, my sister has never let her kids be around me unsupervised which has always made me think she suspects me of being gay and doesn’t want her children around me. My nephews both love their Uncle Joe, and you can see the excitement, joy, and love on their faces when they see me. I am glad he has his aunt as a strong ally. She is a force to be reckoned with and has always lived her life as she wanted to whether her parents liked it or not. I am glad my nephew has her support.

My nephew said it’s been getting more difficult the past two years with his parents, and he is hoping to find someone to take custody of him if he can convince his parents to sign custody over to someone. Hopefully, his aunt can be that person. She was in the legal field and has many lawyers as contacts which I am sure can help. I hope she can get custody of my nephew and give him the help he needs. I wish I had the financial ability to take him in up here. If he’d been kicked out, I would have gone and gotten him, but thankfully, they did not kick him out. I just hope he has the support network he needs. I told him if he needed anything from me to just let me know. I told him I loved him, and I thought he was a very brave boy.

Yesterday turned into an actual Coming Out Day for my family. Not only did my nephew come out to me, but I came out to him. When I wrote yesterday’s post, I had no idea that NCOD 2021 would be such an emotional day. I am so proud of my nephew. At fourteen, not only did I not understand I was gay, but I would have never been brave enough to come out to anyone.

Every year on October 11, we celebrate National Coming Out Day (NCOD) to celebrate our coming out as LGBTQ+. NCOD was first celebrated in the United States in 1988. The initial idea was grounded in the feminist and gay liberation belief that our personal experiences are rooted in our political situation and gender inequality. NCOD emphasizes the most basic form of activism as coming out to family, friends, and colleagues to live life as an openly LGBTQ+ person. The foundational belief is that homophobia thrives in an atmosphere of silence and ignorance. Once people know that they have loved ones who are lesbian or gay, they are far less likely to maintain homophobic or oppressive views. In reality, this is not always the case, but the hope is still there that one day it will be. Whether you’re lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer, we should be proud of who we are and our support for LGBTQ+ equality. 

Twenty years ago last spring, I came out to someone for the first time. It had taken me a long time to just come out to myself, and honestly, I had never verbalized my own coming out until I did it that night. It was not planned, and when I did it, I was scared to death. I have probably told this story before, but I think it is important to tell it again. I was in my first year of graduate school, and I saw an accepting world around me for the first time. You wouldn’t think that would be the case because I was living in Mississippi at the time, but the History Department and my new friends were different than anything I’d ever been accustomed to being around. I felt for the first time like it might be okay to tell someone my “deep dark secret.”

It was the Friday before our first spring break in grad school, and many of the grad students had gone out for drinks that night. We often got together on Friday nights, usually with a group of our professors. We had gone to a bar downtown instead of our usual bar near campus, if I remember correctly. After being there for a while, everyone decided to go to one of the professors’ houses to continue socializing, i.e., drinking. I will admit, I was probably pretty drunk that night, and a lot of my courage had been liquid courage. A good friend, her boyfriend, and I were sitting on the professor’s couch, and it was really late. I’m not sure why we were alone sitting on the couch, but we were. I think the subject of one of the professors being gay came up. I am a little fuzzy on what was said up until that point, but I know we were talking about gay people and how someone we thought was gay was actually straight, or something like that. Anyway, however the conversation had gone, I remember saying, “Well, you know, I’m not.” My friend replied, “Joe, we know you’re not gay.” To which I clarified, “No, I’m not straight.”

She and her boyfriend said they were proud and felt honored that I had confided in them, and they would not tell anyone. They said it was my truth to tell when I was ready. I just remember that they hugged me and were so loving and kind. I hid my gayness for so long, and it was like a weight off my shoulders to finally say it out loud and to someone else. Soon afterward, everybody started going home, and we went home too. She was my neighbor, and I believe her boyfriend had driven us that night. With her living in the apartment building directly behind me, there was never any reason to take more than one car, so we went to a lot of things together. She and her boyfriend never once made me feel like a third wheel.

After we got home, we went our separate ways, and I left for the beach the next day for spring break. I met some of my family in Pensacola. Coming out to my friend was on my mind the whole time. We had been drinking, so I was terrified that she would not remember the conversation, and I’d have to do it all over again. It had taken an inordinate amount of courage to come out the first time, and I didn’t know if I could do it again, even if they had been completely accepting. I knew many people forget things when they have been drinking, even though I remember everything when I’ve been drinking, granted details get fuzzy after 20 years. I was a nervous wreck that she wouldn’t remember. When we got back, our schedules were hectic because the end of the semester was drawing near, so I could not get her alone to see what she remembered. 

Finally, either the Friday after spring break or the following Friday, we all went out to the same downtown bar again. I was able to get her alone in the bar’s courtyard. I don’t know how I broached the subject, but I remember I finally came out and asked her, “Do you remember what I told you at [that professor’s] house?” Thankfully, she did. It was another weight off my shoulders. I remember we sat out in the courtyard for a while discussing cute guys at the bar that night. Never in my life had I had the chance to talk to someone about what guys I thought were cute. It was one of the most blissful moments of my life. For the first time in my life, I was able to be me. I didn’t have to pretend I was checking out some hot girl when I was actually checking out the guy she was with. I have always enjoyed people watching, but I had never gotten to openly watch and comment on guys with anyone else before. It had always been an inner dialogue in my brain. To this day, I still love to point out hot guys to my friends when it’s appropriate.

It was probably another eight months until I finally came out to the rest of the people in my graduate school, but that’s a story for another time. While I am still closeted to much of my family, my parents do know although we never discuss it. Happily, I can live openly and proudly as a gay man in Vermont. Isn’t that what National Coming Out day is all about? The ability to live authentically as ourselves and show others that we are human beings just like them. As Shylock says in Act 3, Scene 1 of The Merchant of Venice, “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.” Shylock was talking about being a Jew versus a Christian, but does that not apply to all groups that are discriminated against?

Couper Gunn, 20, is a captain of the men’s soccer team at Colby-Sawyer College, which is a little over an hour southeast of me, and will be graduating in 2022 with a major in History and Political Studies and a minor in Education on track for a master’s in Education. In January of this year, Couper wrote about his coming out for Outsports. He has said that wearing a Pride shirt inspired him, a gay college soccer captain, to come out.

In the video above, he talks about something that all of us have had to deal with: coming out. If you are not out, then coming out is something on your mind constantly. If you are out, coming out is on your mind every time you meet someone new. It’s not a one-and-done thing. We first have to come out to ourselves. Then, we have to come out to others in our lives. We also have to decide: Are we coming out at work? Should we come out in church? Do we come out to just friends or do we also come out to our family? When, where, how, why, and to whom are all decisions we have to make.

For some coming out is easy. They grew up in a loving and accepting environment, and they know they will be accepted. For most of us though, it’s not that simple. It seems that it gets easier for each generation, but there are still parts of the country that will always lag behind (the South, I am talking about you). It also makes a difference whether you live in an urban or rural area.

Once you do come out, it is a continuing process, and it’s not always easy for everyone. I came out very slowly. It began with telling two people I greatly trusted and admired. Then, I decided to tell a few other people, but for about a year, I was very selective of whom I told. Finally, I came out to everyone in my grad school, but that was by far not everyone I had to come out to. My parents were the hardest, but they found out before I could come out to them. Every time I have had a new job, I have had to go through the coming out process, most of the time, it has been done in a subtle way, and sometimes I never came out fully at all. Only a few people knew, like when I taught at the private school in Alabama.

Even coming out to my doctor in Vermont was a nerve-racking experience for me. I had only ever come out to one doctor before and that was a nightmare that I don’t want to discuss, though I think I have on this blog before. My doctor here never even batted an eye when I told him. Also, with my medical profile, I list that I am a gay man, so all of my medical specialists know that I am a gay man when they read my chart. The problem is that the process never really ends. I hope that one day, no one will have to go through the process of coming out. Our sexualities won’t be questioned, and we will be free to be who we are without fear of any kind. Until that day though, coming out will be a thing that all LGBTQ+ people have to grapple with.

Even once we come out, we should examine what parts of ourselves and our personalities are things we did to hide out sexuality. I told a friend not too long ago that I learned to walk without a swish and to stop talking so much with my hands. The same is true about the way I hold a cup of tea or coffee. For some, it’s the way we sit or how we cross our legs that we trained ourselves to do more “straight.” Sometimes we can’t even recognize all of the things we learned not to do or to do differently because we wanted to hide our sexuality. How many of us learned to check out men without being obvious? I know I learned to only move my eyes, not my head, but our eyes always give us away if someone is looking close enough. Do you recognize the things in you that you learned at an early age to hide or else you’d be labeled a sissy?

You can find Couper on Instagram @cmaxxg and TikTok @cmaxxg. 

On Monday, I wrote about coming out to someone for the first time. As most of you know, it’s a never-ending cycle. You come out over and over again whether to co-workers, doctors, family, new friends, etc. As for family, I’ve only come out to my parents. My mother had suspicions I was gay for years. She found gay porn once in an overnight bag and confronted me about it. I told her it was just curiosity. It was an awful scene; she reacted negatively. I realized I would probably never be able to come out to her. Years later, when I was home from grad school, she checked my email or so she said. I do know she saw an email over my shoulder from gay.com, and she probably lied to me about checking my email. I had logged out after all. It was another ugly scene, but I did not deny it this time. I was living as an out gay man in Mississippi, and I decided I couldn’t deny who I was anymore. She told my father. He told me I had to tell my mother I was being celibate or something. She took the news badly. (Imagine my eyes rolling.) They both made me promise never to tell anyone else in the family. My dad told me especially not to tell my grandmother. I never knew if he meant his mother or my mother’s mother. It doesn’t matter anymore, as they have both passed never knowing I was gay. I think my aunt knows, but we don’t discuss it. One day I plan to tell my niece and nephew, but probably not until they are adults. I have no desire to tell my sister; as long as my niece and nephew are young, I firmly believe she, or her asshole husband, would no longer allow me to see them.

My Monday post recounted how I came out in grad school. I didn’t have to keep coming out when new students were admitted. It was just common knowledge. Very few people had a problem with it at least not openly. I don’t think the leadership of the department would have allowed it; we had at least two professors who were gay. The next time I came out was when I went to a doctor for a throat infection. That doctor point blank asked me if I was gay. I said yes. He then told me I had thrush which can be a sign of an HIV/AIDS infection. Because I was gay, he was immediately convinced I was HIV positive and had me take an HIV test even though I insisted I only had safe sex. I was scared to death waiting for the results. A friend of mine insisted I go see an ear, nose, and throat doctor for a second opinion. I’m glad I took her advice. It turned out I merely had a bad case of pharyngitis. When I asked about the possibility of it being thrush, he said there was absolutely no possibility of that. He had no idea why any doctor would have come to that conclusion. The HIV test came back negative, and I never saw that first doctor again. I should have reported him for the way I was treated, but I doubt it would have done any good in Mississippi in the early 2000s.

Because of that incident, I was wary of telling another doctor my sexuality. When I moved back to Alabama, I never told my doctor because my mother worked in the same clinic and had access to all the medical records. I should have gone to another doctor for more privacy, but I did not have health insurance, and this was an income-based clinic. I didn’t have to pay to see the doctor. Even when I moved to Vermont, it took a few years before I told my doctor I was gay. I did so because I was sexually active and needed to get tested for STIs. I did not suspect I had any, but if you are sexually active you should get tested regularly. My current doctor agreed with that. He is quite good-looking and genuinely nice. I am glad I have a good relationship with a doctor for the first time in my life. I can talk to him about any problems.

The first time I came out at a job was while I was working at an environmental lab in Mississippi. There were a couple of young guys who worked there, and one of them asked me out of the blue if I was gay. I said I was and went about my business. There are a few things I should tell you about this lab job. I had gotten it because my best friend’s sister was working there and recommended me even though she knew I had no experience with science. My only scientific training was two required undergraduate classes: biology and geology. Also, the owner of the lab and his son, who helped manage it, were Republicans. They once threatened to fire someone for wearing a t-shirt of a Democratic candidate. I had not wanted to come out there because of this, but I was determined not to lie. I told the friend who got me the job about the kid asking if I was gay. She was furious he would ask because it was none of his business.

After I told her what happened, she complained to our boss about the kid asking me and making me feel uncomfortable. Honestly, at the time, I didn’t much care. He was just a curious kid, and I knew he meant no harm. However, when our boss found out, he called him into his office and took him to task for being so rude. All this went on without my knowledge. The poor kid nearly lost his job for asking me if I was gay. My boss, who it turned out could have cared less about my sexuality (he really cared nothing about his employees), was actually afraid I might sue for harassment. I wouldn’t have because this was Mississippi, and it would have gone nowhere. The main issue probably was we had numerous contracts with environmentally-conscious companies and the EPA all of whom he feared were more liberal than he was. His contracts might be in jeopardy if anyone found out a gay person was harassed at his lab.

Fast forward to me teaching at the private school, where keeping my sexuality secret was imperative to me keeping my job. Eventually, I did become good friends with the art teacher. One night we were talking, and she confessed she smoked a lot of pot (something that would have gotten her fired). In turn, I told her I was gay. Her response was she’d been waiting for me to tell her that. Eventually, I also told the school lunch lady and her husband. For the longest time, they were the only ones who knew. My art teacher friend did tell her husband who was on the school’s board of directors, but that was mainly so he could protect me if it ever came to that. Later on, I found out he was not fully accepting of my sexuality. He didn’t care that I was gay, but one night we were all hanging out. I said something gay and very suggestive, mainly to get a laugh. He said, “I know you’re gay, but I’d rather not hear about it.” I never felt comfortable hanging around with him after that. One summer afternoon, we were having a pool party. The school’s bookkeeper was there. At one point the husband of the lunch lady mentioned something about me being gay in front of the bookkeeper. It turned out she was hurt because I’d never come out to her. Her brother was gay, and she had no problem with it. The thing is I knew her husband and sons had a problem with it. I’d heard them making rude remarks about gay people. 

While I had other good friends at the school, none of my other co-workers knew (officially) I was gay. One student knew; others suspected and often called me a fag behind my back. The kid I told was a distant cousin of mine. I’d always thought he was gay. We were in my classroom alone one day, and I came out to him. I don’t remember if he’d asked or how the subject came up. He never told anyone, and I knew he’d keep my confidence. For whatever reason, he kind of idolized me and would confide in me. He was a sweet kid but always in trouble. He didn’t take his ADHD medication regularly. He’s actually been to Vermont a few times, and we’ve been able to see each other. He still keeps in touch, but less so now that he has a girlfriend and is more serious about college. I still think he’s gay, though. I know he fooled around with a guy before, but it’s up to him whether he comes out or even come to terms with his sexuality. His parents would be absolutely accepting and have told him as much numerous times which may be why he won’t come out. People can be stubborn at times. I just hope he doesn’t have any major psychological troubles about his sexuality.

In my current job, they all knew I was gay when they hired me. Apparently, it was part of my first boss’ worry that my sexuality, mannerisms, and voice might be perceived as a negative by those I’d be interviewing. (Remember, when I was first hired, I was an oral historian not a curator.) The others convinced her she was wrong, that I was the best person for the job. And she was proved wrong. It has never once been an issue. However, no one said anything about my sexuality until I said something about it. The administrative assistant we had back then was bisexual, and she was the first person I told. That didn’t happen until my friend died shortly after I moved here. I was so distraught I could barely work. Through tears, I told her who he was to me, and confirmed I was gay. My university has a long-standing non-discrimination policy which includes sexual orientation. They have offered same-sex benefits since Vermont introduced civil unions in July 2000.

While most people know my sexuality, I still don’t tell everyone. Every situation is different. It is naturally easy to come out to some people; with others, it takes a bit of courage. I don’t hide my sexuality in Vermont, but I don’t scream it from the rooftops either. I know I will never have problems with my current boss. His best friends are a gay couple, and he was the best man at their wedding. The other curator doesn’t discriminate against anyone for race, sexuality, or any other reason. Like me, she was raised in the South and has seen enough discrimination to last a lifetime. The other Southerner, who works with us and is coincidentally my neighbor, is the same way. In fact, she is more liberal than I am and often votes for the very liberal Progressive Party of Vermont. Vermont may not be the perfect place to live, but I am blessed to be surrounded by loving and accepting friends.