I’ve attended Pride events large and small in the last decade, but nothing moved me more than Capital Pride last Saturday on the grounds of the North Dakota State Capital in Bismarck. This town I grew up and fled from, finally felt welcoming…and the rainbow cloud over the festivities confirmed that.
In preparation for Pride, a local bakery held a 100-word Pride story contest with prizes for first, second, and third places. Stories were submitted. Prizes were awarded. There was, however, no publication of the stories.
Our stories deserve to be told for we are your daughters, your sons, sisters, brothers, your mothers, fathers, and yes, even your grandparents.
My military-related coming out story was published Wednesday, 23 June on The War Horse. The following is my tiny personal coming out story…
“I’m Proud of My Gay Daughter” said the pin I wore to my first pride event. Daisy came out as bisexual in 2001 at 16. Five years later, she dated a woman. I worried for her career and safety. Five years after that, I came out. I had to start over…again. When I broke the news, Daisy tucked me under her wing. At 56, I’d lived in many closets. If Daisy hadn’t come out, I wouldn’t have either. And that pin I wore to the 2011 Motor City Pride? Daisy wore one that said “I’m Proud of My Lesbian Mom.”
Eight years ago, after an amicable divorce, I came out quietly to a few close friends and family members. I was starting over and like Groundhog Day, had returned to my secretarial roots. I wasn’t sure what my life would look like, but the words stenciled above my bed in the basement bedroom of my daughter’s house reminded me every day I had made the right choice and finally faced a truth that I’d buried my entire life.
My daughter tucked me under her wing until I felt financially ready to get my own place. In the meantime, a therapist helped me navigate the changes in my life. During therapy one day, we talked a lot about coming out and she said because it’s a big deal, why shouldn’t people should have a party to celebrate, like a bat mitzvah or a quinceañera. So with my daughter and a few friends, I threw myself a coming out party on October 11, 2011. I wasn’t ready to announce it to the world, but it felt good to be seen for who I was.
A lot has changed in eight years. I’m fortunate to have been able to come out at a time when it’s socially acceptable and safe for me, unlike the Stonewall equality warriors of 50 years ago that generated a movement. With marriage equality, I now have the 1,138 rights and protections I enjoyed when I was married to a man. But we can’t take those rights for granted. We must remain vigilant and continue the fight for equality that began at that New York inn.
In the words of Barack Obama, “When all Americans are treated as equal, no matter who they are or whom they love, we are all more free.”