Telling Alexandra

I did not intend to tell anyone else after Jessica. She, I believed, had forced my hand with her dumb circling, her relentless stare and her persistence in reading me. 

Just a few months later, in September 2016, I was driving up to the mountains to go snowshoeing with Alexandra, and she started talking about her recently divorced co-worker and friend, Tara, who had begun a relationship with a woman and was now identifying as a lesbian. I knew Tara and her ex-husband, through Alexandra, and had seen them socially on quite a few occasions.  

This news did not surprise me as much as it might have because the very first time I met Tara at a Halloween party, I felt chemistry with her. She is the one I mentioned before where the hairs on my arms stood up.

She had been dressed as Amelia Earhart. Strong independent adventurous women. What was not to love?

At that party, I would catch her eye every now and then and we would smile or I would make a joke and look at her. I never did this with anyone. The more we saw each other, the stronger the chemistry. Of course, I had never told Alexandra or anyone else about this.  

Anyway, Alexandra really wanted to talk it through, asking me questions like how would I react if a co-worker told me she was a lesbian and what would I say. And more specifically, what would I say to Tara. At first, I played my heterosexual part, just listening, agreeing with her, and telling her that I thought our job as Christians was to love.  

“Just love her,” I said. (Gag.)

The longer and longer Alexandra and I talked about it, the more I felt like a big fat liar. Lying by omission was second nature to me because of all the years in the closet but this conversation felt ickier. I noticed my heart beating in my chest, thumping faster and faster. I began to squirm.

I was aware of my hands in my lap. They felt heavy.

I felt hot. Ugh. This was one of my best friends. And she was trusting me with this important information, sharing her heartfelt questions and seeking my advice.   

Before I could formulate what I was going to say, I let the cat out of the bag. I am like Tara I said. I like women.  

Pause. 

Alexandra didn’t show her surprise (or I didn’t register it). Having since told a bunch of people, Alexandra’s response stands out to me, because she always saw me first and foremost as the person she knew. The knowledge that I liked women and was attracted to them did not displace or usurp, even for a second, the person she knew me to be. Because this new knowledge didn’t change her perception of me, it simply was not that big of a deal. I wanted to see myself as she saw me, that my being attracted to women, being a lesbian, did not change who I was.

Was it possible God also saw me like this? 

A month later, Alexandra invited me on a camping trip with her husband and a few others. We drove up to the mountains together. I was feeling overwhelmed, once again, with my attractions and desires for women. I was playing whac-a-mole again…loneliness, hammer you down…depression, hammer you down…desire, don’t want to hammer you down…but hammer you down. I broached the topic with her, telling her about the loneliness and desire. She listened. She commiserated with me, reminding me of her years-long desire to be married and how she repeatedly prayed to God. And how God did show up for her in small but reassuring ways. 

I knew from our conversation about Tara that she didn’t know where she stood as far as being affirming or non-affirming of same-sex relationships. The thing was, Alexandra was willing to muddle through with me. I could talk to her about my secret. Hash it out. Explore it. Question it. And she listened and commiserated, because she loved me. I did not have to carry it alone anymore. I no longer had to shoulder the burden by myself. Already, my step was lighter.