The expectation to come out dominates conversations around queerness in the West. Coming out of the proverbial closet is touted as a reclaiming of the self, eschewing secrets, and is the hallmark of ‘living our best queer lives’. The homophobes and transphobes who can’t come to terms with who we are just have to deal with it our get out of our lives, and the narrative of cutting ties with unsupportive family members for the sake of our mental health — to be clear, an entirely valid, often necessary option — ends up feeling like the most common one. Those of us who are not out or are only partially out of the closet frequently feel left out of the conversation, particularly when coming out becomes a prerequisite for proof of our queerness within our circles. There are as many reasons to avoid disclosing your sexual orientation or gender identity as there are reasons to embrace it, and the decision lies firmly with each of us.
Realities Beyond the Closet
For some, coming out can be a reclaiming of personal pride or an assertion of political positionality. However, queer contexts vary greatly across the globe, and as one writer puts it, “some of us don’t come out of the closet because the house isn’t safe.” Issues of safety and wellbeing plague queer folk in every country, no matter how progressive. Two women in Malaysia were publicly caned and fined for “attempting to have lesbian sex” as recently as 2018, and researchers in Australia found that homophobic and transphobic violence was so normalized that the queer people they approached about participating in the study did not recognize the violence perpetrated against them as hate crimes, or even crimes at all. For those living in diaspora, coming out in a workplace setting could jeopardize financial situations, which in turn would put their visas at risk. For trans people, “stealth is a strategy, not an identity” — though obviously, blending is not an option for all of us, and being able to do so is often indicative of, at the very least, some measure of financial and/or geographic privilege.
Even some queer spaces carry the risk of stigma when it comes to coming out. We should all remember the shameful treatment Silvia Rivera was subjected to by cis queers at NYC Pride 1973. Although transphobic attitudes have shifted somewhat in the decades following, they do remain. Queer folks who fall outside of sexual and gender binaries still face varying degrees of biphobia (such as the term “straight passing” for queer couples in relationships that don’t adhere to a narrow ideal of visible queerness) and transmedicalism that is used to gatekeep transness from nonbinary genders.
Still others choose not to come out to preserve relationships with religious or conservative families — not necessarily out of shame, but out of treasuring what time we have with aging family members. For queer folks of color who move in predominantly white queer spaces, not coming out to their biological family may mean being able to receive love, understanding, and emotional support in ways that their queer chosen family is not able to give. Racism in queer spaces still very much rears its ugly head, no matter how much we speak of solidarity. We are larger than the sum of our various intersecting identities; our sexual orientation and gender identity are just two parts of a larger, more complex amalgamation of personality traits, experiences, talents, and opinions.
We are larger than the sum of our various intersecting identities; our sexual orientation and gender identity are just two parts of a larger, more complex amalgamation of personality traits, experiences, talents, and opinions.
The political implications of coming out can also greatly impact the decision. Some feel that the formality of an announcement can actually further reinforce heteronormativity by solidifying the assumption that everyone is straight until they say otherwise. Straight people, after all, never have to even consider coming out. The expectation that queer folks must do so can further cement our place in society as an ‘other’. If equality and equity are truly the end goal of our liberation movements, these expectations must be tempered, and those who choose not to disclose their sexual orientation or gender identity must be as honored and cherished as those who do.
Coming Out or Inviting In?
Writer, poet, and activist Darnell L. Moore introduced to the wider queer discourse Sekneh Hammoud-Beckett’s idea of inviting in, rather than coming out, back in 2012. Coming out of the closet is a Western concept, often carrying the implication of shame around the confession of some great secret that is transformed into pride by public acknowledgment. Inviting someone into a circle of knowledge, on the other hand, grants us agency and autonomy over who is blessed with a greater familiarity in our personal life. Inviting in, then, becomes a more sustainable lifelong practice of sharing, rather than the exhausting work of coming out to publicly assert our identities over and over again in every new circle we enter. Those who make it clear that they do not wish to be invited in do not have to be, and those who make it clear that they are safe and supportive get to enjoy a greater sense of closeness with us. Coming out implies a binary — either you’re in, or you’re out — whereas inviting in allows for greater fluidity and varying degrees of knowledge appropriate to individual relationships and contexts.
Inviting someone into a circle of knowledge… grants us agency and autonomy over who is blessed with a greater familiarity in our personal life.
All of this is not to disparage the practice of coming out. Renouncing secrets in favor of being loud and proud is a thing to be celebrated and respected — we would not be where we are today without the stunning courage of activists who kicked the doors off their hinges so that we could be accepted for who we are. There are, however, as many places in the revolution as there are people, and not all of us were made for the front lines. We each know our contexts best, and in a world that continues to be hostile to us, the guiding principle should be whatever contributes to our health and happiness, in whatever form it takes. All of us deserve joyful, fulfilling lives of safety and comfort, regardless of whether the world knows who we love, who we fuck, or who we are.
Podcast Transcript: