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There’s More Than the One “Closet”

May 19, 2012

I have tried (and failed) to keep this blog from becoming too personal but I’ve been pondering theming this post all day long and can’t get it out of my head so I might as well write it.

And the theme that I can’t seem to shake is…Coming Out! And how today/past week I felt like I did it about eight thousand times.

1. I came out as a possible maybe-someday-wannabe politician. More to myself than to anyone else. It’s one of those things that I took off the table for “possible futures” when people started laughing at me when I responded proudly “President!!!” to that ubiquitous question “what do you wanna be when you grow up.” It’s easy to give up thinking you could ever be a politician because it just looks so hard. Also, I feel like it’s one of those jobs no one has a very clear grasp on how to even accomplish. Doctor? Med School. Lawyer? Law School. Actor? LA,NYC, etc. Anthropologist? Grad School. But president? There was never a very clear path offered as to exactly how one goes about that goal.

So I put it back on the table for myself. Because, you know, maybe I could find a way. And that would be cool.

2. Whilst roaming the galleria as per usual for the best people watching opportunities I did the dreaded thing you never do: made eye-contact with a kiosk person. They roped me in by throwing some lotion on my hands which I promptly asked them to wipe off (who likes greasy hands, really?) and as they attacked my fingernails with a buffer thing that made my hands look shiny and pretty for the first time in forever, one of the experts asked me why I didn’t care if my hands didn’t look pretty, didn’t I have a boyfriend (or wasn’t I looking for one) or something? Needless to say, in one fell swoop I came out both as queer and as a feminist. It was great fun. And by fun I mean, vaguely humorous, sort of awkward, and I remembered the sneakiness of the kiosk sales. Getting into my car, it wasn’t quite a negative or positive experience but was chock full of microaggressions that I just sailed on past. Plus my hands are so pretty.

3. I came out as a vegetarian for the eleventh-thousandth time at my new restaurant job to cries of “how on earth do you do that?!” (Sometimes I can go months without being reminded that people still find it odd. Which is actually quite impressive for living in Texas: Meatitarian capital of the U.S.)

4. I came out as that person who moved back home right after graduation. Not that I’m going to stay here forever or want to be living at home for eternity at all. But it’s still so tragic feeling when people realize that this is my current state of being.

5. I came out as a waiter. And I’m not even one…yet. Okay, let’s get this one right out of the way. In no way do I want to demean people who are waiters. It’s a job. Legit. Just like every other one. That’s not the point of this. It just happens to be a job that I don’t want to do forever. I want to be a journalist, a counselor, president!!! So the other day when I was at a semi-professional sort of mixer thing and someone asked me what I did I said “waiter” when I wished I could have been just as suave as they were, handing me their beautiful (obviously not “pay shipping only”) business card. I’m almost certain my cheeks were green with envy of them having my dream jobs and me only being able to offer a post-grad, lives-at-home “waiter” answer. When I want to be president.

6. I came out as a tab-abuser. To all of you. Just look at it. I can’t help it. I’m compelled to keep them all open. I feel lately like the amount of tabs open in my browser are perchance directly related to the amount of current goals I’m attempting to achieve.

It’s like a messy closet. I know where everything is and that’s what matters.

On that final note, I urge you all to think of the daily moments where you come out: to yourself, to others, your cat. And about all of the different ways you come out and what it means for you. Enjoy the contemplation!

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