Coming Out Later in Life: A How-To Guide
Coming out isn’t like flicking a switch or moving to a new city. For many LGBTQ people, coming out can be an evolving process of being honest with yourself, then a confidant, then family members and classmates or co-workers—if you’re comfortable and ready to do so. Recently, a number of surveys report that queer people are coming out at younger ages than ever before as they benefit from growing (though not widespread) acceptance and better LGBTQ representation in the media. The landmark mainstream 2018 rom-com Love, Simon made strides in showing a closeted gay high schooler coming out to friends and family and getting a boyfriend.
But even benchmarks like that don't mean all queer people feel ready to embrace their sexuality by the time they leave home. "Coming out is an intimate and personal decision, and everyone deserves the opportunity to come out safely on their own time," says Mathew Lasky, GLAAD’s Director of Communications. "Whether you come out at 16 or 60, there is validity in your experience and bravery in sharing your truth with the world."
Netflix's moving new documentary, A Secret Love, chronicles a lesbian couple (Pat Henschel and Terry Donahue) who didn’t come out to family members until they reached their eighties. And over the past few years, several prominent older celebrities have come out, too. Singer-songwriter Barry Manilow was 73 when he first spoke publicly about being gay; Oscar-winning actor Joel Grey did so at 82.
But coming out is still generally presented as a rite-of-passage for teens and twenty-somethings. A Secret Love features its lesbian couple coming out to family members after more than 60 years together, something that should challenge what has long been a reductive narrative that’s potentially unhelpful for people who don’t fit that mold. Only by discussing why some queer people take longer to embrace their sexuality can we help other late-bloomers to do the same.
Neil Baer, executive producer and show runner on the Netflix series Designated Survivor, came out as gay in his fifties because he was feeling “increasing anxiety about living a double life.” He’d gotten into a pattern of having sex with men “on the down low,” then “justifying my behavior by telling myself I wasn’t unfaithful to my wife because I wasn’t having sex with women.” Though Baer had moved in relatively tolerant circles during adulthood (he studied at Harvard Medical School in the early ‘90s before becoming a staff writer on ER), his early years in a “fairly conservative community” in Denver were tough to shake off. “No kids were out then and to be thought of as queer was, I felt, the worst thing that could happen to me,” he recalls. “Fortunately, I’ve managed to get past that.”
In fact, Baer says that since coming out, “I feel free to love openly and honestly, and no one cares who I’m doing that with.” He describes himself as "still me, just presenting a clearer version to the world," and remains on such good terms with his ex-wife that they're currently self-isolating together. He also insists he has no regrets about coming out later. "If I could have done it years, months, days, or even minutes earlier, I imagine I would have," he says. "But I can’t change the past—I can only live as myself now and in the future.”
While Baer's story is one with a heartwarming ending, it’s important to acknowledge that many queer people still struggle emotionally after coming out. Stuart, 44, says he’s “never fully recovered” from growing up in a small town “where I didn’t even know what being gay was.” Stuart had his gay sexual experience when he was 23, then began a “dragged out” coming out process at 28. He says he only fully accepted his sexuality about seven years ago during a self-described breakdown, after a friend intervened. “It was this constant mental tussle of not understanding my own self,” he recalls. “I’d beat myself up all the time: ‘Why me? It would be so much easier not to be gay.’” Stuart says his mental health has improved since then, but he still finds it difficult to form romantic relationships with men. “I know there are still so many things [for the LGBTQ community] to fight for,” he says, “but I wish so much I’d grown up in the world that we have now in terms of understanding and acceptance.”
There’s no such thing as a “correct” way to come out—it's almost a certainty that many queer people will regret some aspect of how they approach it. Still, GLAAD’s Mathew Lasky says that because it can be “a scary and potentially ostracizing experience at any age,” it’s helpful to “have a supportive friend, an affirming therapist, or a local LGBTQ community center to help you through.” Of course, not everyone has access to these things—especially during this time of social distancing. Jak, a 30-year-old gay man who came out a few weeks before the COVID-19 pandemic took global hold, says he’s benefited enormously from the kindness of strangers. “Through Instagram and Twitter I became friends with gay guys who gave me advice, helped me when I was in my darkest places and became ‘that person’ I could speak to,” he says. “I’m not good at speaking about my emotions in person, but I’ve found I can put how I feel into words.”
Coming out is a deeply personal process, but that doesn’t mean it needs to be a lonely one. The key is asking for help when you think you might be ready. “It’s all about connection and honesty,” says Jak. “I wouldn't have come out if it wasn’t for a handful of people I met online—people I now class as some of my best friends.” Millions of queer people have already gone on this painful but potentially incredibly fulfilling journey; let them help you navigate the bumps in the road.
“When you’ve spent your formative years in the closet, it’s difficult to escape the feeling that you need to make up for lost time.”
Originally Appeared on GQ
