Published by justwally on 10 Jul 2009
Notes on coming out to your best friend
I was clueless about sexuality for the majority of my life…including the twelve years I spent in the Coast Guard. I could not figure it out, so I didn’t question, didn’t worry and didn’t think about it. Besides, I had a job to do and I was totally married to the mission and my job(s).
So it was that I was a virgin at the tender age of 35-years, and I’d never questioned it. Ignorance is such a tenacious thing. And, not even six months out of the Coast Guard I realized exactly how gay I really was. I was shocked (but not incredibly dumbfounded, mind you), I cried, I resolved to confide in the one person I could truly trust (my best friend in the hole world).
I felt pretty good about this because she had a couple of gay friends that she always talked about, and it was clear that she loved them to death. I’ll call her M.A., and I make no pretense about her or her friends not knowing exactly who she is with that reference (not out of spite, only out of a need for honesty). You see, it is time to get this off my chest. Set it loose so that I can be free of it. No, this is not a warm-fuzzy of a story (and this is the abridged version).
So, we (me and M.A.) are sitting at a lunch (I pre-arranged with her to talk about “something” because I lived in Fall City and she lived in Tacoma, or approximately 100 miles), and I told her that I was gay. She, a bit angrily, exclaims “Well this is a bit sudden!” Is awful, is kinda, is sorta, you get the idea, but it was hugely exclamatory in a large restaurant containing many more than two people. I nearly died; she wasn’t done with it yet.
Her next, very-ruffled outburst was, “Well, don’t expect me to help you tell my parents!” I totally did not get any of it. It amounted to two, complete non sequiturs coming out of her mouth. I got up and left, and I only ever talked with her again when I went down to get my things out of her garage (remember; abridged version). At that time she was barely civil with me, much less communicative.
It is only well after the fact that I have realized that she was very likely throwing off clues like porcupine quills for many years; I never noticed. I was incapable of noticing. Nevertheless, the utter-and-complete betrayal of trust I felt has never gone away no matter how much benefit of the doubt I throw at M.A. and the equation. I was crushed by someone whom I trusted without question, and my trust isn’t something that I have ever thrown around with any amount of abandon. Multiply that flattening with the absolute invalidation of my person that I felt, and you come close to explaining the impact this made upon me.
I’m not inclined to want to go back and attempt a re-trusting (and re-friending) of M.A. The entirety of our “friend” relationship was based upon perilous assumptions that we both made and never actually talked about. I had never told her that she was the only person in the world that I felt I could trust in every measurable capacity. Every reason she ever gave me to believe she was the person I could trust was totally destroyed by her own hand within thirty minutes in one restaurant. And with that, M.A., I bid you good bye forever, you set me free with the “shocker” reality check that I truly needed. The world is not always a kind place, but I can choose kind friends.
