I grew up as a Jewish girl in Oklahoma. That had challenges all it’s own, but being a homosexual Jewish girl, added a bit more stress.
As a child and beyond, I was very athletic. I participated in gymnastics, softball, basketball and tennis. I have a brother, who is 2 1/2 years older than me. I of course wanted to do everything that he did, including dressing like him. I loved his clothes more than mine, and longed to wear his “wheat jeans” and blue-tip tennis shoes, that were only meant for boys! I also screamed at the top of my lungs if my Mom tried to put a ribbon in my hair. I hated dresses and would only wear one if she absolutely insisted, which wasn’t very often. Though I was aware that my family referred to me as a “tomboy”, I was not aware that I was gay at an early age. Still, looking back on it, I did always have crushes on girls, or an older female in my life, such as my next door neighbor’s older sister, or my 4th-grade teacher.
By the time I was 13 however, I started dating boys, and though this continued throughout my freshmen year of college, I was still more attracted to women. I grew tired of putting up with boy-girl dates, and started going on double dates with both the guy I was dating, and the girl I was dating, along with her boyfriend! Of course my girlfriend and I wanted to be together, yet we didn’t have enough courage to dump our boyfriends and just date one another. She was “my first”, and I literally thought we, along with two other women, were the only gay people attending the university! The reality was that I was playing on the tennis team, was in a Jewish sorority, and it was 1976 in the State of Oklahoma. On some level, I knew that I had to hide my attraction to women, and who I was dating. Though that may have been my perception, there surely was a loud, yet silent message I carried in my head, and no one had to explain it to me. I instinctively knew that it would not be ok with those around me, if someone found out I was gay. For that reason, if you asked me when I came out, I would have to say that I never really did, though I did tell my parents and brother I was gay when I was around 20. I stayed closeted most of the time while in Oklahoma.
Then, in 1978, I moved to San Francisco with my girlfriend, and began a totally different life.
Within the first few months we lived in San Francisco, openly gay rights activist and Supervisor Harvey Milk, and San Francisco Mayor George Moscone, were assassinated by Supervisor Dan White, at City Hall. White was subsequently convicted of voluntary manslaughter, rather than first degree murder. The verdict sparked the infamous “White Night Riots”, and led to the State of California abolishing the diminished capacity criminal defense. I will never forget watching it all unfold on our TV screen, right there, in the city where we lived, only a few miles away from where all of this was actually taking place! Though we had only lived in CA a short time, we were present during one of the most infamous hate crime acts in gay history, while at the same time, we were also supposedly living in one of the most accepting cities in the United States!
Though the 3.5 years I lived in SF were fairly liberating for me, as the city appeared to be so outwardly gay friendly, I also faced the reality of discrimination at another point, when a lesbian bar I frequented and had just been in earlier that evening, was raided by homophobic citizens. Some of my friends were still there, and witnessed chairs being thrown around, and people pushed and beaten. Though in so many ways San Francisco was definitely more accepting toward homosexuals than Oklahoma, all it took was an incident like that to remind us of the reality of how much further we had to go to gain equality. I knew that if such incidents were still happening in California, then I surely needed to be more closeted “at home” in Oklahoma.
In the mid 80’s, I relocated to Texas. I was now in my thirties, and my appearance began to change, though not really consciously, but rather drastically. I found myself ditching my cowboy boots in the summer, growing my hair longer, dressing a little more stylishly, carrying a purse, and wearing lipstick. This had to do partly with maturity, as well as the influence of the town in which I lived, and who I was associating with. I began to notice that heterosexual people related to me differently, and it became rather obvious to me that their acceptance was based on my appearance, as I was now dressing more like a heterosexual woman, and was more mainstream. Though I did not specifically like that, interestingly, this acceptance allowed me to come out more easily to certain, heterosexual friends, including my big sis in the sorority, as well as to extended family. Previously, I felt as though they were embarrassed to be seen with me in public, because I looked “too gay”.
Though my decision to change my appearance may not have been a totally conscious one, I ultimately realized that I prefer to be more accepted, than not. In that way, I guess you could say that this outward transformation worked for me, and perhaps for everyone else, yet it also showed me the tough reality that there is a great deal of prejudice toward homosexuals, and especially “stereotypical homosexuals.” This has caused me great pain, though I am aware it is a personal decision. I hope I see the day that we are all accepted for who we are, regardless of our appearance, or our sexual orientation. Certainly it doesn’t feel right to me to be accepted purely as a “lipstick lesbian”, while thinking that if I was dressed differently, I probably would not be as well received.
I still struggle to feel comfortable enough to consistently tell people in “all circles” that I am gay, or that I am Jewish for that matter, as I know that hate crimes toward Jews and homosexuals still exist. Yet certainly I want to make a difference, as I view being out as important, both personally and politically. Sadly, I still do not always feel safe however, and for that reason, I have opted to not include my name on this story.
Yet after 30 years of lying and concealing who I truly am, fatigue certainly plays a role in my revealing my coming out as often as I can muster, and importantly, I have great desire to make a difference in our fight for equality.
I legally married my partner of nearly 16 years in the State of California; interestingly, in San Francisco. Our wedding day was the happiest day of my life, and it held special meaning for me, as I came full-circle. Standing with the love of my life in the rotunda of the San Francisco City Hall, we said our vows with Harvey Milk’s statue in our line of site. I was very aware that gay rights, and human rights as a whole, often comes at great personal expense. For that, and many other reasons, I am out with my employer; I am out with my neighbors and family; I openly sign letters to our state representatives, I actively support Equality Texas, and other leading organizations. The fight for LGBT rights is a daily one, I am a part of that effort.
