![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So apparently took me 2.5 years to tell my therapist (who I have seen weekly for most of our time together, and twice weekly since February) that I'm bi.
This seems ironic, given that I tweeted last night that some of the effects of the closet apply to me even though I'm not in the closet.
I've since identified that the chief reason that the effects of the closet seem to apply to me so closely is that I share something profound with people who have stayed in the closet for some portion of their adolescence and adulthood, and that's a difficulty with accepting myself as I am. Obviously in the case of people who are closeted, that's at least in part because of the fear or suspicion, or certainty in some cases, that the people around them won't accept them the way they are. (That has some resonance with me, too, though more about the whole potentially-unacceptable me-ness of me rather than specifically my orientation.)
(Wow. Run-on sentences ahoy.)
Just another interesting feature of my continued avid reading of John Corvino. (I've stopped for a while now, 'cause the arguments in favour of same-sex marriage are de facto in favour of marriage, and that's usually fine with me, up until I get oversaturated and reminded how lonely and unlovable I am. So I remain in favour of same-sex marriage, but I also reached my saturation point and am now taking a break for the purposes of not being swallowed up in a well of self-loathing.)
...my brain is such fun sometimes.
This seems ironic, given that I tweeted last night that some of the effects of the closet apply to me even though I'm not in the closet.
I've since identified that the chief reason that the effects of the closet seem to apply to me so closely is that I share something profound with people who have stayed in the closet for some portion of their adolescence and adulthood, and that's a difficulty with accepting myself as I am. Obviously in the case of people who are closeted, that's at least in part because of the fear or suspicion, or certainty in some cases, that the people around them won't accept them the way they are. (That has some resonance with me, too, though more about the whole potentially-unacceptable me-ness of me rather than specifically my orientation.)
(Wow. Run-on sentences ahoy.)
Just another interesting feature of my continued avid reading of John Corvino. (I've stopped for a while now, 'cause the arguments in favour of same-sex marriage are de facto in favour of marriage, and that's usually fine with me, up until I get oversaturated and reminded how lonely and unlovable I am. So I remain in favour of same-sex marriage, but I also reached my saturation point and am now taking a break for the purposes of not being swallowed up in a well of self-loathing.)
...my brain is such fun sometimes.
