Coming and Going: Out-ness and Queer Identity

For many, coming out is viewed as the most significant moment in our experience as Queer people. 

It is the moment when we begin to be honest with ourselves and the people around us, and can begin living our lives as truer versions of ourselves. The significance placed on this moment is in no way exaggerated; it is liberating, powerful, overwhelming, and universal for those of us in the queer community. We all have coming out stories, whether they end with acceptance or not, and we even mark the [UGH] of the experience with National Coming Out Day in October. 

The weight we put on being out is immense, and although there is no “right way” to do it, being “fully out” is seen as the ultimate, desirable goal in our journey to be more accepted and live fulfilling lives.

 Although most people in our community will agree that coming out is a process, rather than a singular event, reaching the point of being “fully out” it is often seen as something that is definite and final. It has even transcended the idea of being an action and become an identity; for many, being “Out” is something that you just are, something that validates and enhances your status as a queer individual. 

In many ways this is important and necessary. It creates a sense of pride and solidarity, and helps build a support system for those who are going through the coming out process. Lately, however, I have been questioning the idea of out-ness as a signifier of a persons queer identity. A year ago I graduated from a very liberal, urban college. 

Coming from rural New England, I relished living in a place where I could not only be out but could also be an active participant in a thriving queer culture, and I graduated with every intention of continuing my involvement. Despite still living in the city, I have found it extremely difficult to maintain a presence in the community due to long work hours, and as my own involvement was largely facilitated by the larger community of colleges in the area. I also began working at a job whose environment, while not exactly hostile, is certainly not one in which I feel comfortable being out. For a variety of reasons, it would not be feasible for me to leave this job in the near future, and I have (mostly) resigned myself to gritting my teeth and stepping back in the closet. 

Needless to say, the transition from being a proud member of the queer community to being largely closeted has been jarring. It has reminded me how much I cherished being a part of said community, while also opening my eyes to how exclusive it feels from the outside. By virtue of no longer being fully out, I also no longer feel fully accepted in many of the spaces I once considered safe and welcoming. Ironically[ OR JUST INCONVENIENTLY?], this sense of safety and welcome is something I find myself desperately missing as I go through much of my life re-closeted. 

We are all familiar with the idea that a person’s Out-ness serves as an entry pass to the community and it’s many resources, almost like making a sports team or pledging a fraternity. In my experience, we tend to get similarly excited about newcomers: “You’re queer??? Awesome! Welcome! Here’s a hug, a t-shirt, and some flair for your backpack!!”. This support and solidarity with people who are just beginning to come to terms with their identity is incredibly important, and was something I always relished being a part of. 

But when you can no longer claim full out-ness as part of your identity, there is a sense that you are also being “kicked out of the club”. While this may not be the case in actuality, the equation of out-identity with queer-identity is so strong that losing one feels like a betrayal to the other to the extent that I feel uncomfortable and embarrassed sharing the fact that I am no longer exactly out, even to some wonderful and supportive friends who are active participants in the queer community in their own cities. 

The loss of Out-ness as a loss of identity and community is concerning to me, both in my own life and when I think about other people who may be in similar situations. We are told that when and how we come out is our decision, and that there is no wrong way, but I have found no real guidance for how to handle the difficult choice to no longer be out. 

I would very much like to live in a world where coming out is no longer necessary at all, and we can all live open, honest lives from the start. In the meantime, however, I find myself struggling with the idea of being out as the thing that validates a person’s queer identity. Coming out is an extremely difficult experience, one that we can all relate to and be supportive of. Every time someone chooses to come out is a chance for celebration, to congratulate and welcome them. But we as a community need to also be supportive of the choice to remain in (or return to) the closet, when being out is not safe or healthy. 

There are many many ways to exist as a queer individual, and we should be welcoming and supportive of each other, regardless of where someone is on their journey.

- Trystan S.