Why is it that after you come out, it seems as if you have just given yourself the license to kill- or in this case, just do what the heck you want? Running roughshod over a person just because the person is in the closet is not the reason why you came out in the first place.
When we come out, we often forget about the pain and angst we went through while we were in the closet. We forget that this so-called freedom came at a great price, and because of that, we end up being judgemental about the matter when it comes to people who still haven’t negotiated that price.
Let’s take a case study- me, for instance. I cannot even remember the circumstances because of which I came out. What I do remember is that for the first couple of years, I was defensive about my sexuality- if you can’t take me the way I am, to hell with you and your brethren!
By and large, age took over, problems took over. I started realising that the need of the hour wasn’t to be defensive but to be acceptant of people around me. Everyone cannot be expected to be the same. My parents weren’t half as cool with my coming out then as they are now. Today, my parents actually accept my partner as a part of the family (and so do my dogs). However, it took a lot of bridge-building to get there.
My partner has been extremely supportive throughout- a little history for the uninitiated- Mantosh and I met in 2007 at the Rainbow Awards for the Siddhartha Gautam Film Festival. He was and is in the closet as far as his family is concerned. I am not. I am nothing more than a name for his family. But I am his life. That makes a difference to my life- and to our life. My accepting this clause took some time. I felt that by coming out, I had given myself the right to be in an out-and-about relationship, with acceptance from his family as well, just like my family had.
I used to feel hurt on some level- but what made my hurt disappear was when I realised what he goes through, trying to balance the home-front and the love-front. I am as tempestuous as ever, but I try and reason out my anger nowadays. I remember the hard times I gave him- the times when I wanted him to say something intimate, and he could not. There were times when he went and sat on the roof of his house, in a chilly Bokaro winter or a mosquito-infested summer, just so that I could carry out my tirades. I was taking my angst out in the comfort of my own room, on the softness of my bed.
Such reasons have often destroyed the rosiest of relationships. Yet, somewhere, it strengthened ours. It watered our tree of love to an extent where once, an immense storm blew, and not even a leaf blew away.
It takes a lot to make a relationship work out. Let us be a little easy on ourselves...and at the same time, let us not give up so easily...for it’s worth it.
