What Kind of Closet is That?

 

If asked what my dream house would look like, one of the very basic requirements would be a huge walk-in closet. I love to organize, and I like every piece of clothing, purses, scarves and shoes to have their very own cubbies.

My last house in Virginia had such a closet. It had space for hanging clothes, shelves, a storage area, and next to that more space for hanging clothes. It was in that area that I turned into a small private office. That was some closet! I loved hanging out there. What privacy and solitude I experienced.

Up to that point in my life, I thought of closets as places to store things in and not a place to come out of. But come out I did, because at age 49, I realized I was gay and had been my entire life. It was a real shock to me since I had been dating since I was 19. Plus, I had two ex-husbands and was married at the time to future ex-husband number three.

Let me tell you, coming out in Northern Virginia was quite an experience. I had people tell me it was a phase that I would soon tire of and that I was acting out to get attention. And the way they described my coming out was, “Sharon? She changed horses in mid-stream.” or “Sharon’s going through a mid-life crisis, probably due to menopause.” Oh please! 

 The reason I came out was because I finally met a person who treated me as the wonderful, loving, funny, attractive, creative creature that I was. She didn’t try to mold me into someone I wasn’t, and she understood what made me tick. 

The men in my life were always demanding me to be someone I wasn’t. To them I wasn’t thin enough, attractive enough, well-educated enough and so forth. Also, I did not have breasts to their liking. All I ever wanted from a man was to be appreciated for who I was, and not for what they wanted me to be.

During my years married, I read a lot of romantic novels to keep me content and in my place. The plot line was always the same - the heroine would find a man who immensely annoyed her, but due to a maze of inspired-by-evil events, he rescues her. At the end of the story, he becomes her prince charming, and they live happily ever after. 

Unfortunately, in real life, as we all know, it isn’t that simple. The problem was I couldn’t be someone I wasn’t and never could be. Once I had that epiphany, my life changed for the better.

Being a Lesbian at any age isn’t easy nor is it without its trauma-filled moments. Try getting a divorce from a white male, and a Republican to boot in a Southern State. A big oops! One finds out very quickly who really are the open-minded liberals and the ones who pretend to be….and never were.

 Another one of life’s lessons learned: you fill up your closet with lots of stuff so one can hide from the world about who you really are. It gets so crowded in there that you need to come out, just to be able to breathe and be your true self.

Note: I came out in 2003 and in 2004 married my person. This December it will be 19 years!