One of the most insightful lessons that I’ve learned is that coming out is a constant process.

I once heard those words from a mentor but didn’t know exactly what they meant until they became relevant to me. I too, like most, dreaded the moment that I would need to have that conversation about my sexuality. Mainly because I had heard about all of the possible outcomes that it could have.

Maybe no one would mind.

Maybe everyone would.

Regardless, it would only happen once.

Right?

Well, that moment came and went. I had done what it felt like everyone was pushing me to do. What I was pushing myself to do. I thought that if I had overcome jumping over that hurdle that I had been avoiding for so long, that things would eventually be cool.

Foolish of me to think that I could make this a one-and-done type of conversation.

They don’t tell you in the movies that when coming out of the closet, your first time won’t be your last. This was something that I had to figure out on my own. Yet, it was only through countless times of doing it that helped with each one. Which still doesn’t mean that it’s an easy thing to do.

With only 3.4% of adults publicly identifying as queer, there’s no secret as to why it took me a while to get used to it. In every space, it felt as if everyone had a third eye peering attentively into my closeted life. The life that I had taken so long to build for myself, finally representing how I felt inside and out.

I was living through a moment of blissful freedom, convincing myself that I was no longer concerned about what people thought of me. Or so I thought. It wasn’t until I felt that I deserved that same freedom in public and professional spaces, that I noticed how often it happened.

Stuck on repeat, these unnerving, vulnerable moments became the beginning of my new life.

A life focused on freedom, happiness, and respect.

As of June 15th, 2020, the U.S. Supreme Court offered me that freedom with their amendment to Title VII of the Civil Rights Act. Now including sexual orientation amongst other elements that prohibit employment discrimination, I feel comfortable having that conversation. Before then, coming out was something that a lot of people tip-toed around at work due to the fear of termination based on identity.

In a world where we are constantly fighting to protect the lives of ostracized groups, we needed this protection.

Not just so that we feel safe entering spaces, but so that we can feel the happiness within them as well. LGBTQ+ folks deserve to feel the same amount of love and encouragement that their straight peers do, especially in the workplace. The organizations that we serve are representative of the larger audience. They symbolize the work that is being done for our communities, so why not start that work from within?

Being able to come out at work does more justice for the system than it does for us personally. It allows others to not just see us for who we are but to learn about our experiences as well.

In an article writer for the Chicago Reader, Salem Collo-Julin confers what these ongoing coming out moments can mean for the collective:

“It’s certainly not my job to be their only teacher, even if I’m their only bisexual friend. But they are people I know, and it’s important to me that they gain understanding so we can continue to love and respect each other.”

That is what those moments are about.

Helping ourselves and others better understand the way that we deserve to be treated.

Providing those around us with the right tools needed to clear the difficult hurdles through life.

And finding more comfortable ways to do it.

So, in the words of Niki Dean from the classic film, Holiday Heart…

“Let’s toast, to letting it all hangout… privately.”

And know that no matter how many times you do it, #YourStoryMatters