Imagine walking down a hallway and seeing two doors before you.
The sign on one door says: “Beyond this door is a place where you can be safe. People will like you, admire you, and few will dislike or judge you. But in exchange for this, you will suffer silently on the inside, never able to fully express or maybe even accept your true self. You will sacrifice authenticity for acceptance.”
The sign on the other door says: “You can be your true self, but it will not be cheap. Some people will judge and reject you, possibly including some who are very close to you. You will experience rejection, disdain, and maybe even outright hatred, even from people you thought liked you.”
Which door would you choose?
For years, I chose the former, selecting safety over self, acceptance over authenticity. Fear of abandonment birthed in my childhood and exacerbated by pre-teen trauma held me captive. Partnering with a belief my value was directly tied to academic and professional performance, these demons caused me to hide for half a century.
When my world fell apart and little was left to lose, things changed. Much had been lost; all that remained was me. Feeling naked, nearly all the facades ripped away, my journey into self-discovery began in earnest.
That journey produced many self-realizations, including fully embracing my bisexuality. Along the way, communities have been lost and gained, the LGBTQ community being one of the latter. It has proven to be incredibly affirming and welcoming.
Like most communities, it is far from perfect. However, like many groups who have been marginalized, demonized, and told they are “less than,” it has developed a special kind of solidarity and camaraderie birthed through struggle.
I discussed in an early post about the ways our sexual orientation is likely determined. This post is not planning to revisit that argument, but consider if millions of people around the world would really just “choose” to live in a way that brings rejection, persecution, and in some places, death.
Reflecting on how some are treated, would most people would choose to be treated how members of the LGBTQ community are often treated? Would most “choose” to seek relationships with people it was illegal to marry until only recently? Would most “choose” to be attracted to someone when they could be kicked out of a church they belonged to for years? Would most “choose” to date a member of the same sex if it resulted in being ostracized by their family?
One of the biggest barriers for me deciding to come out was the likely negative consequences when people found out about my bisexuality. I’m grateful there have been only a handful of direct negative reactions, but many relationships seem to have been negatively impacted by someone pulling away or ending the relationship altogether.
I don’t think I would have “chosen” to be bisexual, not because it’s a bad thing—I love who I am—but due to the rejection, judgment, and harm which regularly occur.
For years I chose what seemed to be the path of least resistance, denying and suppressing my sexuality in the process. Time has taught me it was quite the opposite. Being dishonest, especially with myself, ended up being the path of most resistance, keeping me from experiencing an abundant life, one overflowing with peace and joy.
Breaking Into Peace 