I am an extroverted extrovert, no matter which version of any personality test I take, the answers are nearly identical. Within five minutes of meeting me, you will know I am a transplanted New Yorker, a mom to two teenage girls, Jewish, and typically very open. Within ten minutes, you will likely find that I am witty, warm, and a hugger. Oh, and if we aren’t meeting at work, you’ll quickly know that I’m not straight.
Coming out in my personal life was essentially easy. I was not a teen living in fear. I was not bullied or afraid of being thrown out of my family. I did not have to fear loss of my job, my home, or my loved ones. Coming out after 40 is received with more of a shrug and a “huh, OK.” I had the advantage of being at a place in my life where I knew myself too well to be discouraged.
Though I am openly out and proud in my personal life, I agree with writer Megan Evans who said, “I slip under the radar of both the straight and gay community and experience ‘femme invisibility’ and the assumption of heterosexuality.” (Huffington Post, Megan Evans). I struggle with the fact that anyone who does not know me well assumes I am straight, especially at work.
I have fantastic work relationships. Our atmosphere is friendly and everyone discusses their personal lives and asks about mine. They knew I was married to man, and therefore assumed I was straight. It was too awkward to correct them. I found myself feeling defensive and on the offense at the same time. For me, the craziest part was that I found my extroverted-extrovert-self, quiet and unsure. I was not being authentic or true to myself.
However, the office is like Thanksgiving dinner; there are three topics we do not discuss - sex, politics, and religion. My sexual orientation manages to hit all three. You are likely reading this and thinking “so what, I have so many out LGBTQIA colleagues, its 2018 and my office has an anti-discrimination policy?” Not so fast…
The turning point for me came after a long drive back from an even longer client meeting. I was seated in the back with a female co-worker whom I both adore and admire, but I did not know all that well at the time. She’s been married for a long time, and was asking me about the pains of online dating, and how the apps work. I handed her my phone, not thinking and told her scroll through. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that profiles of both men and woman were appearing and awkwardly mumbled something about an error in the app “I have no idea why there are women’s profiles, how weird.” She looked at me oddly for a moment and then moved on.
That moment felt like a year. I was sweating and nervous and coming undone. I felt sick and silent for the rest of the drive home. Who was I? This was SO not me. I am authentic, I am open, I am an extrovert, and a sharer. I write a blog called Living Life Loudly, for goodness sake. In that moment, though, I was small and my secret was too big to share. I felt exhausted.
I thought about what I would tell my daughters if they were facing the same dilemma, and I knew that was the last time that would happen. There was no widespread proclamation or announcement. After that day, I simply found my own ways to gently correct people’s assumptions – “Are you dating?” “Yes, I have a girlfriend.”
The truth about coming out at work is that the nature of the dynamic environment I work in means that my team often changes, and I wind up “coming out” again and again. Sometimes I can address it head on by repeating the word “girlfriend” two or three times until I can see it click on the coworkers face (since women often use it to refer to a close friend). Other situations are harder - after several offensive remarks, I had to approach a colleague with, “please don’t assume everyone in the room is straight when you speak.” They had the typical deer in headlights “I have no issues, I have tons of gay friends,” response. That one stayed awkward for a while. All of that said; I have not one regret about my decision. No one needs to waste that kind of energy - it is unhealthy and unproductive. And while I’ve had many uncomfortable moments, I can say that I have not faced anything I would consider true workplace discrimination since coming out.
OUTstanding found that 85 percent of those that answered they are closeted at work found that they are wasting too much energy pretending that they are heterosexual. Furthermore, 61 percent said that subsequently, they do not work as hard for their company. I never want that to be the case for me.
Goldman Sachs’s CIO, Marty Chavez once said, “Gay people are happier, healthier, and more productive if they feel they can bring their whole selves to work.” In an internal memo from 2011, he explained, “being authentic is crucial for peace of mind. There are connections that you can build with colleagues and clients based on being candid and authentic."
I couldn’t agree more. This journey, however, is not a sprint; it’s a marathon. I long to see this addressed openly at the highest levels of business and at my own office. Too often, the topic is so fraught with controversy, we avoid it altogether - the only people vested are those who are already part of this community. So that is this year’s commitment to self. Starting this fall, I will ask questions and inspire change. I will become more educated about all of the policies that affect my identity and my employment; I will push for more visibility. I will focus on how I can be part of the change I want to see and feel steadfast in my commitment to being all of me at work, even when it scares this extroverted extrovert.
So, what is my hindsight wisdom? (Caveat – this is not for everyone. Depending on where you live, where you work and safety in your environment - coming out at work might not be for you. Not to worry, you do you. Your reasons are yours; you do not owe anyone anything.)
For me:
- Being all of me in all facets of my life has made me a significantly happier person. I am more productive, more engaged, and more creative. I bring a different perspective, and am perhaps more sensitive to issues coworkers might be struggling with.
- I can be an advocate. I want to do more to bring uniquely LGBTQIA concerns to our leadership. In my experience, it is not that people do not care; often it is that they do not understand.
- Being brave is a process. Sometimes that means baby steps, other times it means wearing your truth to work on a t-shirt the Friday before Pride. In the immortal words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “you don’t have to see the whole staircase to take the first step.
