I keep coming out.
Oh, I came out as a gay man 28 years ago. I still come out to folks that way when it seems right and necessary (most of the time they guess, because without even meaning to, I provide clues).
No, I mean, coming out as myself–or maybe a better way to put is to say that I am coming home to myself, or coming into my own. Being gay is part of it, an important part, but there is more to me than that.
For example, I am, in part, what I eat.
So I have made a commitment to improve my eating habits: no more sugary desserts. I mean NO pies, cakes, cookies, ice cream, etc. Don’t get me wrong. I love that stuff. But I don’t know how to eat it in moderation, especially when I feel stressed or under-appreciated. I use it for comfort.
But when I seek the comfort of God instead, and the comfort of Jonathan and my friends and my dog, I actually feel better, longer. And those connections don’t add to my weight, or put me on the road to diabetes.
Imagine . . . I don’t need sugar to feel better.
I have known this for a long time, and have even sworn off dessert before. Then I relapsed. I may again.
But today, I am clear: I like myself without the distortion of sugar. God made a good person when I was created. I don’t need the dessert drug to make me better.
And that is a coming out for me.