National Coming Out Day & Humble, I mean apple pie…

This post is important to me. It’s also very emotional and was difficult to write. I want to preface it by saying that the Payaso and I are so thankful for the love and support from our friends and family. The love and support for us as a gay couple, but more importantly, the love and support for us as human beings. We love you.

“I am not a stranger to the dark
Hide away, they say
‘Cause we don’t want your broken parts
I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars
Run away, they say
No one’ll love you as you are”

It was December 7, 2018 and the Payaso and I were getting ready for bed. He was setting up the coffee maker in the kitchen and I was cleaning up the living room. I was about to turn off the TV, but there she was – Leela James. Gorgeous black hair, a soulful voice wearing an ensemble that would make anyone turn their head. Absolutely fabulous!

To be fair, I yelled “Kennedy Davenport is on the Victoria Secret Fashion Show!” The Payaso ran to the living room to say “That’s not Kennedy, tanto! She’s not even a drag queen…” Before you judge me, judge for yourself the resemblance between these two beautiful souls. And if by some chance you see this Miss James, please know I say it with the utmost respect and admiration!

Nonetheless, I sat there and was blown away by her 4 minute rendition of the song “This is Me” from the movie “The Greatest Showman,” which are the lyrics quoted within this post. We had never seen the movie and it was the first time I heard this glorious anthem – and my anthem it has become. The following morning, I listened to the song on repeat between St. Paul and Minneapolis on my commute to the office. The words really touched my heat and their words were healing.

Today is National Coming Out Day – a day when the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer (LGBTQ) community celebrates their coming out. According to the Human Rights Campaign, thirty-two years ago, on the anniversary of the National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, we first observed National Coming Out Day as a reminder that one of our most basic tools is the power of coming out. One out of every two Americans has someone close to them who is gay or lesbian. For transgender people, that number is only one in 10.

I came out when I was 19 years old. It was a part of my life that was incredibly confusing, scary and sad. I grew up in rural southeast Nebraska and let’s just say there weren’t many LGBTQ folks living their authentic selves in 1996. Growing up, I was bullied and harassed on a daily. My voice was high and I had effeminate moments, which were easy targets for classmates and even some adults without the emotional maturity to appreciate something “different” than the norms of “the good ole boys.”

When I came out, I lost friends and it put a huge divide between me and my parents. The words of my parents when I came out crippled my spirit and still replay in my mind almost daily. Friends that I grew up with wouldn’t accept the fact that I was gay and we said our goodbyes. There’s a lyric in a Cher song that says “words are like weapons, they wound sometimes.” So many of the words that were said to me when I came out were destructive.

We were taught honesty growing up and I was so confused that by showing my honest self, so many rejected the truth – my truth – that had nothing to do with them. The emotional scars of me coming out are deep and I don’t know that they will ever heal completely – I’m sensitive and I wear my heart on my sleeves. Shortly after coming out, I moved to San Francisco. Moving to the “mecca” was one of the best decisions I have ever made and it likely saved my life. It’s probably why San Francisco will always hold a very special place in my heart and why I’d move back in the heartbeat if we won the lottery. Okay, I’d move back tomorrow and leave everything behind if the Payaso would let us. Please!? I’ll make you tres leches cake whenever you want…

“But I won’t let them break me down to dust
I know that there’s a place for us
For we are glorious When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown ’em out
I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I’m meant to be, this is me
Look out ’cause here I come
And I’m marching on to the beat I drum
I’m not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me”

I’ve learned strength these past 24 years. I’ve learned to help friends whose children are coming out. I’ve sought out friends that I love as much as and who I call family – my chosen family. I’ve offered grace to those who need it and I’ve learned forgiveness. I’ve also learned to give the middle finger to those who are small minded to the point they refuse to educate themselves such that being around them is toxic – you know, boundaries.

I didn’t choose this lifestyle. My life would be so much easier if I was straight. For example, I was told when I was trying to rent a hotel room for friends to simply enjoy a night out that “we don’t rent to your kind” back in 1996. I walked into an interview four years ago in Minneapolis and the law firm partner I was interviewing with looked me up and down and I could visibly tell he was judging me. Unconscious bias, anyone? How I wanted to say “fix your face”, but I didn’t. When the Payaso and I moved to Minnesota five years ago, I made a point to use the words “my husband and I” in initial interviews to gauge reactions. And reactions were a plenty. The reaction of this particular partner told me everything I needed to know and while I wrapped up the interview professionally, I could not leave that conference room fast enough. We had a contractor come to our house a few years ago to give us an estimate on a housing project and he asked me, “so which one of you is the wife?” Last December, in 2019, the Payaso and I were waiting to cross the street in downtown St. Paul and a car drove by and a man yelled “fucking fags” to us as he drove by. We weren’t holding hands. We weren’t causing any attention, but it’s a reminder that even though I came out 24 years ago, and even though some of the world has progressed, these types of events still trigger my emotional scars from that fall day in 1996.

“Another round of bullets hits my skin
Well, fire away ’cause today, I won’t let the shame sink in
We are bursting through the barricades and
Reaching for the sun (we are warriors)
Yeah, that’s what we’ve become (yeah, that’s what we’ve become)”

Today, I can say that I’m proud to be a gay man. I’m a warrior. I’m proud and BLESSED to be married to the Payaso and we try to show love and grace to those who cross our paths whether it’s for a reason, season or a lifetime. Love is our decree and we believe the world needs more of it – especially now. We believe actions are stronger than words and we look at people’s actions rather than their words when deciding how much we let them into our lives (there are those boundaries, again). Words are cheap and if there isn’t any action to them, we’re simply not interested. Maybe there’s someone who needed to read this today, I don’t know. I know that I’ve shared my coming out story – all messy parts of it – with handfuls of people. I think National Coming Out Day is a great way to reflect on how far one has come in their journey as a member of the LGBTQ community. I never thought I would get married or that it would be legal and I’ve been married to the Payaso for six years! I’m also mindful that people should come out when they are ready. If one isn’t ready to share such an emotionally personal part of their lives as their sexuality, then don’t. Take your time. Talk to people. If you think your child is gay and you want to be prepared for that conversation, educate yourself. This is a great resource for anyone starting this chapter of their coming out lives: https://www.hrc.org/news/a-resource-guide-to-hrcs-tools-for-coming-out

I didn’t cook or bake when I was 19. This sort of creative therapy came a little later in my life. When sharing my coming out story, I’ve often joked that I’d bake a big humble pie and deliver slices to the naysayers back then. Those who were too worried about what people would say because they knew me and how it might reflect on them. Those who teased and taunted. Don’t get it twisted, I’ve had my helping of humble pie in my lifetime and I’m sure there will be more helpings in the future, but it doesn’t taste great. You know what does taste great? Apple pie! (bad transition, I know…)

This is my go-to recipe for apple pie. It’s an adaptation from a AllRecipes called “Apple Pie by Grandma Ople.” The original recipe is delicious as written. Below is the recipe as adapted by yours truly. I used apples from our apple trees, which are called bolero and polka apples. They are perfect for baking and keep their shape nicely. They are also a tart apple, which I like in baking because sometimes apple desserts are just. too. dang. sweet. According to www.bonappetit.com, jonagold, honeycrisp, braeburn, mutsu and winesap are the best apple baking varieties. Granny Smiths are also a good go-to apple for baking and readily available in most grocery stores. You’ll see I add a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar to the recipe. I do this because the acid from the vinegar does amazing work to cut through the sweetness. I also think the vinegar works to keep the apple flavor in the pie.

I really hope you’ll try this apple pie recipe in the very near future. The Payaso has been asking me over and over if we can cut into it. “No! It still needs to cool completely otherwise it’ll be runny!” And thank you. Thank you for reading my message today. I hope my words bring an awareness to National Coming Out Day and those LGBTQ friends/family members in your life.