I have these thoughts and phrases that I call Su-isms. They are mainly ideas & beliefs that have come up repeatedly in my life.

One of them is: Most comfortable when most exposed.

I began writing a blog on this topic, I had an idea in mind, but when I put pen to paper the text turned into the story of how I came out—back in high school.

For me coming out happened when I found friends, through a school-sponsored group, who were either questioning their own sexuality, or who allies. Within this group, the Gay-Straight Alliance, I also found teachers and school faculty that were gay or lesbian.

I knew that coming out was a way of lessening my burden. So that i wouldn’t be hiding myself from others. No one likes living a lie. But the second part of coming out that no one told me about was the act of becoming comfortable with myself, and learning to accept and love who I am.

Most comfortable when most exposed.

For a long time after coming out I felt the need to continuously “come out” to every new person or social group.  There was a voice inside my head that kept pestering me, “what if a new person didn’t know that I was bisexual, and found out through casual conversation?”  Implying that frighteningly bad things would occur–but really, that never occured.  I have heard this same story from other people, and at some point most realize that it doesn’t matter to anyone except themselves and their partner(s) how you live your life–and I realized that as well.

In recent years I started wearing sports bras. Being Intersex I have hormones that will sometimes give me sensitive breast tissue, wearing a sports bra meant that I could still be active enjoying running, and working, and not be in pain.

But seemingly out of nowhere, there was a voice again inside my head that kept asking, “What if people find out? What will they think?” This was the same voice from when I had first come out in high school. The voice saying I had to come out to every social group to truly belong. This is the voice of fear.

I remember telling my close friends, my partner, and some of the people I ran with about wearing a sports bra, but otherwise kept on the DL. Yet that voice persisted. The voice told me to cover-up, act normal, and hide who I am. And that made me even more miserable.

Finally one August day on a job site, working in the hot sun building a patio, something clicked in my head and I thought, “If I take my shirt off right now, what’s the worse that’s going to happen?”

So stripped off my shirt. It was freeing, not only could I feel the sun on my back instead of a sweat-soaked shirt, but I felt the burden of staying hidden lifted off of my back. 

A short while later my client came out to talk with me about the work. She didn’t look at me funny or treat me with any disrespect, and I had forgotten that I had on just a sports bra and shorts.

Most comfortable when most exposed.

From then on any time that voice piped up, and said, “I should cover up,” I told it, “No.” I will not be fearful of how I look. I remind myself that I deserve better.

The coming out journey is different for everyone. When I was a teen I had the benefit of caring teachers during my school days. But not everyone does, and if you’re able it’s important to be known as an ally to those still in the struggle.