I came out yesterday!
There’s a section of my book, Grieving Differently: Queering the Stages of Grief (which is scheduled to be released on October 6, 2026) that introduces what I have named as a new Stage of Grief:
Coming Out
In that section I talk about what it is for a person who is grieving to have to “come out” time and time again as…
The grieving spouse
The grieving parent
The grieving child
The grieving neighbor
The grieving citizen
When grieving we are constantly having to inform others of the catalyst for our grief. Not that we go out and publish a full page ad in the Boston Globe. But we do bring into casual conversations the reminder to us of what has brought on our grief… and share it as new news with others.
And though I find myself having to “come out” as a grieving spouse more often than I would like… that’s not the coming out I’m talking about here.
Yesterday, I came out in a very public way about something that has been held within me for some time. I introduced the world to the love I have found this past year in a polyamorous relationship with my, now, two partners John and Tony.
And I have to tell you… I think I felt even more anxiety while writing the just over 2,000 words revealing this news than I did when I told my mother I was queer.
Since releasing the news on social media and in my Substack yesterday, I’ve had some time to reflect on the experience, the response, and the anxiety that was just below the surface through it all.
Let me begin with the response… because it’s hella joyful!
With each comment that has come in as I share of my newfound love, a smile plants itself on my face with no intent to leave. The kindness shared in the words written is overwhelming. The radical acceptance spoken in comments on a post about a form of relationship that might be quite complicated for some has warmed my heart immensely.
It’s a beautiful change from the online vitriol that I was steeped in during Pride Month. And it was not unexpected.
The people with whom I am connected through social media not only are very dear to me… I know they are good-hearted people. Loving people. Kind people. People that you want to be sure are in your corner for when stuff gets hard.
So honestly, sharing the stuff that got hard for me with these loving, beautiful people shouldn’t have been as anxiety-producing as it was.
And still… it was.
As I reflect on that experience… the fear and the anxiety that I was carrying in my body as I wrote my words to share came from a place that shouldn’t surprise me. It came from the exact place that I’ve known fear has been manufactured for many others for many years.
As I considered coming out as an openly queer man in a relationship with two other openly queer men… I wasn’t as afraid of what people would say as I was fearful for what the institution would declare.
And when I say “the institution,” I mean the church. Though not the local church from which I serve as Pastor to the community. I mean the larger structure of the institution… the one that holds the rules and guidelines and generations of “this is the way we’ve always done its.”
I was not sure what it was going to be for me to serve in a denomination that has had little to no conversation about polyamory… or at least to which I have been privy.
Yes, we are an extremely progressive Christian denomination. And… well, let’s just say that I have been on the receiving end of some not-so-progressive demands, I mean decisions, in the past that caused me to pause before going so very public with my love and my life.
Now, many already know that there is little of my life that doesn’t go public. I’ve grown a substantial following on social media over the years and on probably less than five occasions I have posted something that wasn’t accessible by anyone with a particular platform’s account.
Everything I post, I post publicly.
My Substack is public.
My TikTok is public.
My Facebook is public.
My Bluesky, Instagram, Threads, YouTube…
All of it is public. And I don’t censor my life when I share.
Which I guess is one of the things that was causing me concern in this situation because by not telling everyone about Tony and John, I was not telling everyone about one of the biggest components of my life.
And guess what? Now I have. Now, I have spoken of my new relationship, detailed it in 2,000 words. And now it rests with the receivers.
I’ve already shared how amazing that response has been.
And, much like when I came out to my mother when I was twenty-three years old, the weight that lifted from my shoulders yesterday as I clicked “post” on my post allowed me to stand much taller than before.
I no longer had to hide an important part of who I am.
I no longer had to be cautious in choosing my words when discussing my life with others.
I no longer had to worry about questions that might arise as more and more people see John, Tony and me spending more and more time together.
The weight lifted.
The anxiety dissipated.
The fear… well, in all honesty, there’s still a bit of fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the other shoe dropping. Fear of some hierarchical gavel falling onto my life because someone somewhere doesn’t understand how my life and my love now fits in the boxes which I have occupied all these years.
And as I think of that fear, I think simultaneously of the fear that has been in me at other times when I have spoken truth into the universe.
I know there is always potential for harm to be endured when speaking truth.
I know that there are those in the world who, because they don’t understand what I share, will try to diminish or destroy what I have.
I know that there very well may be some difficult conversations around the corner.
And as long as I remain true to who I know myself to be…
As long as I remain true to who I believe God has created and called me to be…
As long as I remain true to that which that radical Rabbi, Jesus taught and modeled for us all…
I have nothing to fear.
For those who have never had to “come out,” this experience may sound quite foreign. And perhaps I am glad that is the case. Because to “come out” means that there is something being hidden… and the weight of that, the grief of that, the pain of that is quite unbearable at times. And I would wish that upon no one.
But the freedom that comes with naming your truth? Well… it’s beyond priceless.
So thank you to those of you who have hoisted me to cloud 9 these past 24 hours with words of love and encouragement. Many of you have been the ones that sustained me in the time following Peter’s death… as I “came out” as newly-widowed. And many of you are the ones that I know I can lean on when stuff gets hard.
I’m glad to have you in my corner.
And no matter what comes of this big reveal, I know that I’m happier being “out.” And I’m really happy being “out” with these two that I love so deeply.
That which has been kept hidden is out in the open for all to see, and I’m really happy for the freedom that comes with that… the freedom to live life as authentically me.
The courage of being true to yourself is always a gift. ❤️