Celebrating National Coming Out Day

Newsletter + On This Day

I celebrated my first National Coming Out Day back in 1993.

Thirty-one years later, I still celebrate it—but in a very different way.

Then, I was only “out” to one lesbian college classmate and the members of an LGBTQ student group I had joined a month earlier at my university.

Now, after half of my extended family decided that my mom’s funeral was the perfect occasion for a debate and referendum about my sexuality, I’m as “out” as I can be (to anyone who cares to pay attention).

Note: I never “came out” to some family members because my mom was ashamed (and embarrassed) by my sexuality. The truth is she was ashamed of sexuality in general. So out of begrudging respect for her and “her” family, I refused to lie, but did not feel the need to explain my life. Still don’t. Long story short, the “revelation” did not bring us closer. Oh. Well. I’m far from the only gay man to have family he’d rather not be related to or know.

Then, I felt the need to announce my sexuality from the rooftops.
Now, thirty-one years later, I’m less interested in making announcements.

Then, I proudly wore a t-shirt with a Keith Haring design.

If memory serves, I mail-ordered the t-shirt from Don’t Panic and was terrified one of my neighbors might accidentally get the package and discover my “dirty little secret.” I was scared of my own shadow and still a virgin—though that was about to change.

Times were different then. And so was I.

I wasn’t just “gay.” I was GAY!!! I didn’t believe in bisexuality or sexual fluidity in men. I was convinced only women had that natural superpower. Honestly, I couldn’t handle the idea that some guys might like more than just one thing. Did I mention I felt more comfortable in lesbian spaces than hanging out with the “boys in the band”?

Even though I loved drag queens and at least one trans royal (the one and only Miss Holly Woodlawn), I was the quintessential Southern Baptist Sissy, anxious and unsure of my place in a “community” I wasn’t sure even existed. I was as scared of meeting my Prince Charming as I was of not meeting him.

And what the fuck do you do with Prince Charming, anyway?
Fairytales never provide details.

Today, I don’t care who knows what about my sexuality (or lack thereof). Frankly, I don’t care (as much) about categories or labels. My pronouns are anything but “late to dinner.” I not only believe in bisexuality and sexual fluidity but sometimes wish I’d been born with some of that superpower myself. My love for drag now includes everyone who practices the performance art. And, last but never least, my love and respect for my trans and enby siblings grow deeper every day.

This doesn’t mean I like (or get along with) everyone in the LGBTQ Rainbow Family. I’m not everyone's cup of tea either. Some folks are best appreciated from a distance. And that okay…cuz I’m gay.

Through trial and error, I’ve learned that it’s not about fitting into every space but about finding the spaces where I truly belong. And often times that space is simply my own.

What’s changed the most since that first National Coming Out Day in 1993 is the power I give to other people’s opinions. Back then, I worried endlessly about being accepted, about how I’d be perceived or judged. I spent so much energy feeling ashamed of just being myself that I sought external validation that I was okay and worthy of love.

Now, I remind myself that the only validation I need is my own. I’ve built a life, a career, and a creative outlet that reflect who I am—not just in terms of my sexuality, but in every part of me. I no longer feel the need to scream “GAY!!!” from the rooftops because I live my “truth” every day.

My queerness—yes, I like and use the word "queer"—isn’t something separate from me. It’s just one piece of the puzzle that is me, myself, and I.

Looking back, that scared kid in the Keith Haring t-shirt—freaked out about a mail-order package—could never have imagined the relative confidence and peace I feel now. Or the overall annoyance at how much and little history has marched on these past 30-plus years.

Thirty-one years later, I still celebrate National Coming Out Day. But now, it’s less about coming out and more about staying true to myself—the parts I love, the parts I struggle with, and the parts I’m willing/able) to work on.

Whether you celebrate or not, Happy National Coming Out Day!

Not everyone can come out. Not everyone wants or needs to.

I celebrate people making their own choices and living life on their own terms.

We’re all threads in an intricate, collective quilt—woven from our unique experiences, identities, and stories. Regardless of labels we embrace—or those placed upon us—we each contribute a new patch to the ever-growing tapestry of human history.

Every person and every story adds to this vibrant, complex whole. There’s beauty in how our differences blend to create something rich, resilient, and always evolving.

Live and love authentically—however you define it—by any means necessary.

Thanks for reading!
Clint

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ON THIS DAY = OCTOBER 11

BIRTHDAYS

• 1844 = Henry J. Heinz = American founder of H. J. Heinz Company

• 1884 = Eleanor Roosevelt = American humanitarian and 32nd FLOTUS

• 1918 = Jerome Robbins = American director, producer, and choreographer

• 1962 = Joan Cusack = American actor

• 1966 = Luke Perry = American actor and producer

• 1977 = Matt Bomer = American actor and producer

• 1992 = Cardi B = American rapper

EVENTS

• 1975 = Saturday Night Live premieres on NBC.

• 1988 = First National Coming Out Day is celebrated in the U.S.

• 2022 = Angela Lansbury dies in Los Angeles, California, at the age of 96.

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PHOTO + QUOTE OF THE DAY

“HEART POWER IS STRONGER THAN HORSEPOWER.”
HENRY J. HEINZ

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