What touched me today was reading about the actor Elliot Page’s coming out and particularly watching the video on the Human Rights Campaign website. Here was this accomplished young person speaking in front of a crowd–something I’m sure they have done many times before. You could hear the nervousness in their voice–the wavering and uncertainty.
But what I was most transfixed by were their hands. They were shaking so much that they had to hold them cupped together for almost the entire time. At one point, they let them go to make a point, and they were like tiny birds released, but still unsure of how high to fly.
About halfway through their speech when they finally said the words, “I’m gay,” and the audience stood and cheered for them, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be marvelous if everyone upon coming out had a cheering audience swelling with whoops of joy, mirroring back to you the terrifyingly awesome feeling of finally releasing your authentic self out of your mouth and into the world?”
It’s like watching a birth: the long wait and gestation before, the agonizing pains of labor, but then the deep knowing that there is no going backwards–in fact, what’s back no longer exists even–and you are propelled into a shiny, brand new, sparkling world that blinds you with its rightness. And you wonder how you ever lived in the dull past with you old, small, tightly-reined-in self.
Letting it all go–the expectations, the dreams of someone else for you, your own dreams that never quite fit no matter how you cut and sewed and re-sewed them–it’s the scariest thing ever. It’s tough enough to do that for yourself and your family & close friends privately, let alone on a widely-broadcast YouTube video.
But to live every day as authentically as you can–what a gift to yourself and the world! I could see the relief on their face when the words came out of their mouth. Naming ourselves, saying the words, and believing that you can say them and there will be a bridge to carry you to the other side requires such a leap of faith.
I remember testing out the words myself before I dared to speak them aloud to anyone. It felt like I had a tiny baby bird inside me–me, its nest–and it was time to push her out. Keeping her in the once-safe nest was no longer an option for that would only stunt her growth. I had to have faith that her wings were ready and strong enough to take on the world. It was her time to fly.