On October 11
millions of openly gay Americans will reflect on the day
they took those brave first steps out of the closet,
providing support and encouragement to others who have
yet to find their voice. On the third day of our
coming-out series, speaker and lecturer Donna Rose,
filmmaker and GroundSpark executive director Debra
Chasnoff, and entertainment publicist Len Evans share
their coming-out stories.
***
Donna Rose, speaker and lecturer
Coming out for me
isn't localized to a single moment or
event. Rather, it was a gradual process that was both
exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. It
was a very slow journey with brief flashes of action
that gradually gained both pace and intensity. By
the time I was finally ready to share the news with
others, it was as much due to the fact that I just
couldn't keep it in anymore as it was
my actually wanting to share it.
I have found that
the coming-out experience as a transgender person is
similar but in many respects different from the experiences
of my GLB friends. For those of us who begin the
process of transitioning from one gender to another,
it involves changing your life in drastic
ways. As I came out to people it wasn't simply
to share the news that I am a transsexual -- it was to
prepare them for the fact that I would be undergoing
some significant physical and emotional changes in
order to live my life in my authentic gender. That's
a difficult message to explain, so my earliest victims
had to read it in a letter that I had painstakingly
written explaining it all.
The most profound
events of my life were coming out to my son, and to my
mother. My brother and sister were less difficult, and the
process of coming out to my then-wife of nearly 20
years was more difficult than profound. All told,
however, my coming-out journey isn't a single
story but a number of interconnected stories that have
taught me much about others and about myself.
If I had to pick
one event to highlight, however, this would be it: My
first day full-time at work as Donna was October 4,
1999. It was a day for which I had prepared
mentally and emotionally for years to achieve, while
at the same time a day that I had spent the better part of
a lifetime trying to prevent. I have no idea where I
found the courage to show up that day. By the
time it was over, however, the terror and anxiety that
marked the morning had been replaced by pride and a
deep sense of peace at having achieved it.
***
Debra Chasnoff, filmmaker and executive director, GroundSpark
My family had a
little sailboat, and one weekend when I was in 10th grade
I invited a young woman who had been my camp counselor to
come sailing with us. At night the rest of the family
crawled into the musty cabin, but Steph and I put
sleeping bags up on the deck instead. The stars and
the moon came out and we found ourselves fumbling around and
making out.
Years later,
after I won an Academy Award and came out on national
TV, I got a letter from Steph telling me there was still
time to change my evil ways, and that she, as a
born-again Christian, was praying for me. I wrote back
and reminded her that it was that nighttime experience
on the sailboat with her that led me down this "depraved"
path. I never heard from her again.
***
Len Evans, publicist, Project Publicity
I was late in
coming out to my family. It was Thanksgiving eve and
I went home for the holiday break. I
was watching Will & Grace with my mom on the
couch in our living room. The episode was
about Jack hiding that he was gay from his
mother, and Karen and Grace were claiming to
be Jack's girlfriends. Out of
nowhere, my mother turned to me and
said, "This show reminds me of you and your
friends. Is there something you want to tell me?" I
turned a deep shade of red and my gut reaction was
to deny it and pretend I didn't know what
she was talking about, but then I heard my voice
admitting to her that yes, I'm gay. She hugged
me and said she had been waiting for me to tell her
for years. I guess it's true that a mother always
knows...