Coming out at 40

Reflections on a Moment of Stunning Contradiction

Every year, when National Coming Out Day arrives, I find myself reflecting less on coming out and more on what we’ve been forced back into.

We live in a moment of stunning contradiction: queer people have never been more visible, yet our rights are being erased in real time. School boards are banning books that name us and validate our existence. Politicians are framing our presence as a threat. Judges are deciding whether “religious freedom” means the right to discriminate. We are everywhere and nowhere, spotlighted and targeted all at once.

For those of us who came out decades ago, visibility was once the dream. To be seen was to be safe. But we’ve learned that visibility without protection isn’t liberation, it’s exposure. What good is representation if kids can see us on screen but can’t say our names in class? What good is progress if every step forward comes with a law designed to shove us back?

If only young matt knew what I know now.

As an educator and a parent, I think about the young people growing up in this chaos, those who are quietly piecing together who they are, taking mental notes about when it’s safe to speak. To those kids: I want you to know that this version of the world is not permanent. You are not behind. You are not alone. You are watching adults fail to protect you, but also watching a generation of us fight like hell to make sure you won’t have to hide forever.

Coming out was never supposed to be an act of bravery. It was supposed to be ordinary. Routine. Human. The fact that it still requires courage says more about our society than it does about you.

This year, I’m less interested in celebration and more determined to amplify the voices that can’t speak, the students who can’t yet come out, the families who fear what visibility might cost them.

We need allies who will lead loudly, organizations that will flex their power when others can’t, and communities that will stand between us and those who legislate harm.

Silence has always been the weapon used against us, and history reminds us: silence is death. So if you can speak, speak. If you can act, act. And if you can protect, do it fiercely, because someone else’s survival may depend on it.

If you haven’t come out yet, remember: come out when you’re ready, when it’s safe, and how you want. We’ll be here waiting for you.