Why Coming Out Still Matters
By: Josh K. Wicks
Tags: LGBTQ, Pride

When Phillip Schofield came out, he was met with several reactions. None of them were unexpected. The first one was one with undertones of bigotry — the ‘who cares?’ attitude. The second was nicer, one of praise, awe and support. These were the best to see. Others also mused that ‘it wasn’t a surprise’ or that ‘they’d always known’. Whilst these people mean well, this is not supportive or truthful. Nobody knew until he shared it with them. The last was perhaps the most predictable — ‘Why does he have to come out in 2020?’, and ‘Why didn’t he come out sooner?’.

The first question needs addressing. It is still a requirement of members of the queer community to ‘come out’ if they want others to know about their identity. Whether it's out of fear, pride or to help ourselves, coming out is important. I know we and our allies dream of a utopian world where sexuality and gender identity aren’t issues and labels don’t exist. That’s great, but it’s certainly not the world we live in right now. Globally, only 28 countries allow same-sex marriage, whilst over 70 still consider homosexuality to be illegal. There are still 13 countries where you can get the death penalty for ‘homosexual practices’. The situation in terms of gender identity is even worse. Only 23 countries legally recognise gender identity in some form in law, and even fewer allow simple legal gender changes — the UK does not currently allow this without extensive medical evaluation.

So, why is this relevant? Well, for many members of the queer community, this is a motivation to come out and spread the word about our identities. Those of us who are lucky enough to live in broadly equal and tolerant countries are empowered to come out as a sign of strength and solidarity to those less fortunate than us. But coming out isn’t an option for everyone who lives in these countries either. Those with families who are socially conservative may not be able to come out either, and those of us who can should think of them when we come out. We must also think of those whose families would be put in danger by them coming out, because they live in countries where even the mention of queerness is forbidden. Think of Shahmir Sanni, whose relatives in Pakistan had to hire personal protection after a Downing Street aide publicly outed him in retaliation for whistleblowing about Brexit. His story and those in similar situations must remind us of how fortunate we are. We do it for those people who risk losing their loved ones. Coming out is empowering, it allows us to tell the world ‘we’re queer, and we don’t care what you think’. We can stand against the legal oppression faced by so much of our global community, and the intolerance and prejudice that still fills so much of our ‘tolerant’ society today.

Photo by Tristan Billet on Unsplash

Coming out is not just about other people. Its also about helping ourselves. Many of us were still brought up with some degree of homophobia or anti-queer prejudice. I can personally remember a sex-ed teacher laughing off a question from a fellow pupil about gay people as if they were a myth or a joke. That stuck with me. When you begin to realise you might be queer, particularly at a young age when you haven’t really figured out the world, and you’ve been socialised in a way that isn’t necessarily conducive to self-tolerance. Coming out is often a way to jump yourself into self-acceptance. I know this from experience.

I was not comfortable or accepting of myself when I came out as bisexual in 2015 at the age of 13. I hated it. The principle that I might end up in a relationship with someone of the same-sex almost repulsed me, yet I knew that was the reality. Several crises later, and a change to the pansexual label, I’m getting better. I accept it, and I’m growing to like it. I don’t know many queer people, and I think getting to know more would help me. I know firmly that, one day, it won’t bother me.

The point I’m trying to make is: we want to come out and share our identities with you because of the struggle we have been through. In a world where you are conditioned from birth to be cisgender and straight, it is hard to be deviant from that. We want to come out because it's important. Labels are important. What you are called is important. I came out to help myself, but also because I wanted to be proud of myself. I will be one day.

When I read Phillip Schofield’s statement this morning, I was struck by how challenging it must have been for him. He’s been married for 27 years, and worked his sexuality out later in life. To look back on over 50 years of not being true to yourself must be unimaginably difficult, and I am utterly in awe of how brave he has been. To go through that privately would be incredibly challenging. To go through it publicly, incredibly brave. Coming out still matters. It helps us be true to ourselves, and to better ourselves. The fact that people still ‘come out’ in a big way is not a sign of inequality and progress yet to be made. It is a sign of progress, and a more respectful society.