Did you know homosexuality was in the manual for mental disorders until the 1970s? With all the advances in civil rights for LGBTQ the past five decades, it’s easy to forget if you were labeled gay back in the day, you might be subjected to aversion therapy, chemical castration, electroshock treatments, or even a lobotomy.
A speech in 1972 by Dr. John Freyer, a working psychiatrist and a gay man, convinced members of the American Psychiatric Association (APA) to rethink and eventually remove it from the DSM-II.
When “Dr. H. Anonymous” appeared before the APA, he wore a distorted rubber Nixon mask, an oversized tuxedo, and had his voice distorted so fellow members could not identify him. It was not until the 1990s that his colleagues knew his identity.
“Cured,” a documentary of this little known piece of LGBTQ history, was released in 2020. We saw the movie on Sunday and highly recommend it!
There’s going to be a special screening event of “Cured” followed by a panel discussion at 7:30 PM ET on Monday, May 2nd, the 50th anniversary of that powerful speech. The documentary isn’t in wide release so register here if you’re interested.
Life can turn on a dime…and sometimes you just have to hold on and ride the tide.
I had my Explorer set up to be a self-contained solo camper when I left North Dakota for retirement in Michigan. On my way, I stopped for lunch with the Minnesota friend I’d met and hiked with during my February Tucson trip. Kate and I had texted and talked in the intervening months, and found we really enjoyed each other’s company.
After four trips through Minnesota in the course of a month, we liked each other well enough to see where our relationship would lead in Tucson, since we would both be wintering there. Long story short, we’ve been inseparable since.
After my latest divorce, I was convinced I’d be forever single, not wanting to put my heart out there again. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my solo adventures, but I missed sharing them with someone who enjoys similar things. We enjoy listening to books and podcasts together, we laugh like school girls on a sleepover, and we have similar taste…though I don’t eat anything that swims. I taught her Pickleball, and now she’s kicking my butt, so she’s a great partner in sport and life.
Lately we’ve been renovating Kate’s manufactured home in a 55+ community. In years past, I’ve avoided getting involved in renovation projects. With my bicep/rotator cuff recovery, I’m limited to cleanup chores. Although I haven’t been a huge help with removing the popcorn ceiling and skim-coating, I’m a good researcher…and I love me some power tools.
I’ve ridden the tide to a sweet ending to a life-changing year. We’re headed back to Minnesota and North Dakota to spend the holidays with family…so more adventures to come!
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.”
Ten years ago, the evening before my 27th wedding anniversary, I came out. Although I had been faithful to my husband, I found myself oddly attracted to a woman so I finally came out to myself. I wasn’t sure if I was making the biggest mistake of my life, but I knew leaving my marriage was the path of integrity. Thankfully, the split was amicable. How amicable you ask? We went skydiving together for the first time three months later, weirdly something I never would have considered when we were married.
After the financial chaos of 2008, there wasn’t much to split. I didn’t make a lot of money as a secretary, but with benefits and my foot in the door, I knew I would be okay. I had done lots of hard things before. At times it wasn’t easy, but I persevered.
Looking back on the past 10 years, I’m humbled by the people I’ve met, the experiences I’ve had, the places I’ve been, and I’m grateful for the opportunities that have come my way: living my rock star dream of playing in Sandy Mulligan and the Gypsies, going to 2012 Toronto World Pride, a trip down memory lane running 12 miles on Parris Island and attending the 69th Anniversary of women serving in the Marine Corps, running in Windsor, Canada and coming up through the tunnel and hearing my name announced in the Detroit Free Press International Half Marathon, having a Free Press photographer catch a snapshot of me celebrating marriage equality in Ann Arbor, realizing the dream of running the Marine Corps Marathon and having that journey published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Running For Good, and so many more memorable moments.
This year it’s about taking another leap of faith with retirement on the horizon…so cheers to the years and the new adventures to come. And in the end, all anyone wants in this world is to love and be loved.
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.”