I am here

The other night, Sam, Cary and I met for dinner at Stella’s in the South End of Boston. It is a tradition for us to meet once or twice a month to discuss what is going on in our lives. Things you can’t discuss in e-mails and texts and the conversation is significantly enhanced by a few drinks and a gay friendly location.


Our conversations help to keep us sane, literally. We met in a “coming out” support group some four years ago on a cool October night in Brookline. There were more than the three of us. Six to be exact.  Five of us have stayed in touch but poor Bob, the sixth retreated back into the closet after the sessions ended.

It’s funny now to think of that first night. Each of us so nervous we could barely look at each other, carrying an armload of emotional baggage. I may have been the only gay virgin in the group, but that didn’t make talking about it any easier for Cary and Sam. This group was about self-acceptance, not self-admittance. And we all had big issues with that.

The group met for 12 weeks and somewhere around the middle, we were told that the next session would be the “sex” session. It was promised to be a frank talk that we were extremely interested in and also caused a certain amount of anxiety. Sam reveals now that he sent a three page e-mail of questions to our therapist beforehand.

“Bullshit. He didn’t answer a single fuckin’ question” Sam, still frustrated reveals. In retrospect, the “sex” session was extremely tame. Our conversations these days would make a hooker blush.

As we talk, it is clear that just talking to other people of like mind is cathartic. It does not matter if it is structured in a group therapy session or over drinks. The important thing is that we continue to talk. I would not dream of denying the existence of my husband Paul; Just as Cary would not dream of denying the love of his life.

When I came out to a friend, one of the first things he said was “It’s difficult, because I immediately imagine the sex act” This troubled me. I don’t envision he and his wife having sex and that is because heterosexual love is a part of our everyday vernacular. This is why it is so important that we all come out of our closets. Not being a majority is difficult, but pretending you are not who you are is deadly. Find someone to confide in. And if you need someone to talk to, I am here.

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