Anonymity is for pussies

Some thoughts on anonymity and closets

The question of being out is on my mind a lot as I start this new site / blog. This site links directly to my main personal site (and vice versa), and even the most cursory Google search will present my entire online persona as a neat, easily digestible package. I've structured things that way for very specific personal and political reasons, which I think are worth discussing.

Firstly, I happen to disagree with the conventional wisdom that being out about sexual non-conformity is a scary, dangerous thing to do. Many people in the sex-positive community put considerable energy into keeping their sex lives secret and compartmentalized from the rest of their lives. Obviously, being out can sometimes be dangerous: people do get harassed, or fired, or beaten unconscious and tied to fenceposts to die for not conforming to social norms. Those experiences are real and valid, and it's not my intention to deny them. However, my equally real and valid experience has been very different, and I want to talk about it.

To a greater or lesser extent at different times in my life, I've been pretty "out" about being queer and about being poly. I've not historically been particularly out about being kinky, but I guess that's changing... In any case, here are a few of the things that I've done over the last 20 years:

• I've been militantly "out" at work. 5' x 8' rainbow flag on my office wall. Male nudes calendar in my office. For a while, every weekly issue of the Microsoft company newsletter listed me as the male contact person for the queer employees group.
• I've worn a lot of "out" t-shirts. I've walked into a gas station in the middle of South Nowhere, Washington wearing my "Nobody knows I'm queer" t-shirt (after a bit of stammering, the attendant told me, "Well, uh, nobody knows I'm straight.")
• I've taken both my girlfriends (at the same time) to the company Christmas party.
• I've marched in a variety of gay pride parades.
• I drove the effort to get Microsoft to offer Domestic Partner benefits. I spent a ton of time arguing the case with a variety of vice presidents, including the Mormon head of HR.

I don't claim to be in any way unique-- many people have done far more than me, and have exposed themselves to a far greater extent. My point is simply that I've been out in a lot of ways that many people don't dare to be.

Given all that, here's how much crap I've gotten about my sexuality over the years: zero. Nothing. Not one single, solitary incident. I've been called a fag a couple of times in my life, but always by people who thought I was straight. I've never been beaten up. I've never been fired. I've never been yelled at. I've never been sent rude email. My mother wasn't particularly happy about me being poly (she was fine about me being queer), but she's always been pretty well behaved about it.

Obviously, I come to this with certain advantages. I'm white, I'm male, I look and act approximately "straight", I have a good education, I make lots of money working a high-prestige job in a traditionally liberal industry, and I live in a very liberal city. Nonetheless, I can't help but think that my experience isn't entirely a fluke. Maybe- just maybe, life outside the closet isn't as scary as a lot of people think.

Secondly, being out is a more comfortable way to live. I don't worry about who might see me at the Wet Spot. I don't worry about using the wrong pronouns when talking with friends. If I want to hold hands with someone in public, I do it without scoping out the street to see who might see us. Life's simply better out here.

Thirdly, being out makes the world a better place. Every person who stands up for who they really are makes it easier for everyone who's still in the closet to take their next step. Every queer / poly / kinky person who lives their life without hiding who they are changes minds all around them. And every one of us who's out makes it harder for the bigots to win by default. I've been told before (by co-workers who were in the closet) that the simple fact of my joining a group as an openly queer man dramatically changed the level of background homophobia in the group.

So that's why I'm using my real name, and why I'm making it so easy to connect this stuff to the rest of my life. Because it just isn't that scary. Because living on the pointy end of the spear is more fun. Because, in some small way, it makes the world a better place. And, frankly, because I just can't be bothered to hide from the pinheads.

Bring it.