The Consequences of Coming Out

If you've seen any of our speaking engagements, you know the first person I ever came out to was Rob Hicks, who, along with Alastair Gamble - among others - was part of that media attention-grabbing wave of linguist discharges in 2002, mentioned a few blogs ago. What rarely comes up, on stage or in conversation, are the subsequent second, third, etc. coming-outs - comings-out? - that happened soon after, even though quite a few of those may ultimately have been of more consequence.

My second coming out - to a mutual friend of both Rob and myself - was not one of any particular significance, though having two good friends come out simultaneously did amount to a certain degree of shock for someone already familiar with gays, pre-Army. Number three, however, is much more interesting, and much more in line with the Coming-Outs of Consequence (hereafter COC's):

Anne was, and is, arguably closest embodiment of pure intent I've ever encountered, incredibly good-natured and altogether a pleasure to be around. I enjoyed Anne tremendously, so when I discovered she was going through a deep relationship crisis privately I wanted to do what I could to help ease her burden. This, of course, required a significant amount of trust on her part, so to make it easier I offered her the same amount of trust, and came out to her.

Setting what would eventually became a pattern, Anne's reaction was first shock, followed by warm acceptance, and the desired effect of the two of us being able to become closer through this trust exchange was achieved. No longer was I a nice guy mysteriously aloof about my personal life, but a full, functioning human being that was able to fit in more completely in Anne's, and eventually the unit's, periphery and core.