A person not wanting to have a closeted partner and being a secret is completely valid, super understandable. As long as they are not awful about it, they have all the right to have other expectations, especially at something so complex as dating is.

However, this is not the closeted person’s fault. Coming out is terrifying, even if you have the most supportive environment it’s still genuinely so scary. Shaming someone —fictional or real— for being scared to come out pisses me off SO BADLY.

unfortunately, they are all pretty bad at it!

but they can have brief moments where they are doing everything right and it's super epic

you can still have fun even if it's a little bad ❤️

queer men are so insanely beautiful...tbh just looking at them up close is enough sometimes..

but can they please read a book on how to properly touch a vagina?? (you cannot just stick ur sandpaper unwashed man hands on my vagina, ilysm but please.)

also u can stop eating my face when we kiss 👍

the sounds they make are better than anything on this earth (it does need to be LOUDER!!! tho)

they r all so emotionally distant during intimacy what the fuck is up with that??? (that's like the best part of sex imo)

june rolls around and i wonder again like i have for the last five of them if this will be the one where I say it to someone -- that i'm not actually straight. that i'm...bisexual doesn't feel right. attracted to whoever if their vibe is right and it just happens to have been right more often with men? what the fuck even is that?

it took a while to even type that. not because I feel shame. Because I feel like im an imposter and I know some people would call me one and maybe they'd be right. maybe that is shame. what the fuck do I know?

it doesn't change how I feel or the fact that I can pinpoint to the day and nearly the hour the moment when I bi-panicked and buried my first hunger for another girl so deep I wouldn't see it until after 23 years and half of that partnered to a man who is kind and brilliant and deeply caring and adores me, whose support gave me the safety I needed to start healing and see myself honestly for the first time maybe ever. (and i still fear telling him)

how do I calculate this truth about myself against the fact that i have never dated a woman, never had a "close friend" who was a little too close for society's comfort

(not in that way. there was the brilliant mad scientist girl when I was 16 who protected me and believed in me and what if she hadn't gone away to that boarding school? what if? would we both have figured it out sooner?) ,

never kissed another woman

(except when i was drunk those couple of times and it was the same queer friend who had asked me out once and so what if i sometimes really miss the manic depressed chaos of that year after college?)

and am married to a man?

What's even the point, basically? There isn't a secret someone I want to explore with. there's just this knowing and the regret of not seeing sooner.

it's not like I'm real. it's not like I've suffered. I've comfortably hidden from myself out of this core terror of being seen or known or noticed and i know it's fucking convenient and how much fucking clearer can it be that I think i deserve to be erased for erasing myself from myself?