I think I'll be cross-posting this one to Lavender Chronicle...
See, the thing is this. A few years ago, my mother moved back to the town where I (and my sisters) grew up. She went back to the family church. She became active. All this is great, totally in keeping with my mother's spirit and not the point of this spiel anyway. It's just to lead into the fact that she's come to know many of the other women at the church, through Bible study and the women's group and so on. Her last name is different from mine, by the way.
Well, at the mother-daughter Mother's Day brunch last month, a woman who looked vaguely familiar sat down next to my mother, and began talking. She looked at me intently, glanced at my name tag, and asked if my last name was "Pastor." At that moment, I recognized her, she recognized me, and much laughter ensued. She and I were part of a small group (four) that spent a lot of time together in high school. We were the four musketeers of TeenyTown. One of us has moved out of state and our lives. But the fourth member is not far away, and so we agreed that the three of us remaining in-state (or sort of in-state in my case) had to get together.
It's set for this coming week--dinner at a restaurant not far from my mother's home.
But. The reunion situation wasn't one in which I could exactly come out. You don't drop that on the table in the middle of a church Mother's Day brunch, just before the nice man gives his talk on Wild Birds of Our County. I couldn't mention "my partner" as a hint because I don't have one (partner, that is; and the way things are going currently, my next partner may be a guy--which is a whole other post--and so wouldn't have helped anyway). I did give her my card, but it doesn't out me either. On the other hand, if we're going to renew our friendship, I have to come out. I spent too long in the closet to go back in.
So. I will be coming out to two old friends from high school whom I haven't seen in close to twenty years.
In telling this to my current friends, the reaction has been mixed. Brit Boy thinks I'm a "madwoman" (yes, that's a direct quote). The denizens of the Yellow House think it will be interesting. Music Man says to have an alternate form of transportation home (I'm to ride with one of my friends). The Photographer wants to be a fly on the wall. Other reactions have ranged from a shrug to "it will be fine--they were your friends," to a wistful "wish I could have done that."
Well, I'm sure my mother would have warned me if she had thought there would be "issues." She knows the one woman well enough from working with her in the church to tell me.
I guess my musings are more around the topic of coming out as a continual process (or "pro-sess" as we say in the land of maple leaves). There's always someone who hasn't heard or you've just met, a new doctor or real estate agent or whatever. Now, I know my former partner was listed in the last reunion booklet (four years ago), , so if one or the other of these ladies was paying attention they would have picked up on it. But they may not have. Or they may have and didn't want to mention it.
So. There may be no drama at all--or one or the other may be startled. But I remember these two from a long way back. I'd like to think they haven't changed much from the accepting, intelligent, friendly people they were then.
I don't think I'm a madwoman for coming out to them--even in the British sense of the word (i.e., only slightly nuts), and while it may be highly entertaining for those not involved, my guess is that, in reality, it will be low-key and no surprises, with no need for extra money for cab fare.
Stay tuned. Promise to update later.