Never Ending

I've been thinking about coming out of the closet. The concept of it, that is. Obviously, to read me you note I'm not a closeted individual, so it's not thoughts of needing to come out that I've been having, but rather it's been thoughts of how I can never be done coming out. As I've been reconnecting with an old, long-lost friend this past week, the question of outing myself, and when, has come to the fore for me.

As a male in a society where vanilla heterosexuality is the perceived and accepted norm, to meet me on the street a person would generally just assume I'm straight (still hate labels), as the odds are in their favor.

I come out as bisexual to wife (then girlfriend), to family, to friends, but it doesn't end there. Eventually there are more family, more friends. There are coworkers; there are students. There are my readers. Someday there will be my children; perhaps I'll be around long enough that I'll have their children to come out to. Who knows? And then there's always the decision as to whether it might be best (for reasons of personal or financial safety) to not be out in certain circles/situations/circumstances. I hear it all the time: "I'm out to so-and-so and so-and-so but not so-and-so." It's obvious to me that the process is universally similar, or at least it seems to be.

I wonder how much relevence this has on the coming out story as part of GLBT identity. How can any of us have a definitive coming out story if the process is never going to end? Or is it that with every coming out story, there's a particular outing (typically the first to family) that has the most emotional resonance? If that's the case, maybe I'm still waiting for mine, as mine has been rather blase up to this point.

I resign myself to the idea that I can never ever really be simply out. Instead, I'll always find myself in the process of coming out. Every day, every new experience is going to have the potential of a new person in my life, and a new instance of my needing to out myself to them.