Pink & Blue

Recently I divulged via Facebook that I’m a genderqueer pansexual. When I posted, I wasn’t specifically thinking… oh, I’m coming out right now via Facebook. It was only in hindsight (and someone else pointing it out to me) that I realized that that’s what had happened. I posted because I simply felt that I was ready to say it; that I had to say it. My desire to be seen had outgrown my anxiety around being seen. 

Posting publicly about something this personal and important caused an internal swirl of emotion. I felt relieved, empowered, anxious, worried, peaceful, proud, exposed. I am still swirling, although a bit more comfortably. It felt scary to announce to the world that I don’t fit into the cultural mold we’re handed; the mold that many assumed I was fitting into just fine all these years. It felt like such a massive act of vulnerability that had to happen in order to (hopefully) be seen. Once I came out I knew that loved ones and others would have reactions that I couldn’t control. They would see and understand and extend compassion to varying degrees. Many would celebrate, some would be confused, some would need to consult Google, some would judge, some wouldn’t care one way or the other, etc. So be it.

When I say I’m genderqueer, I mean that I don’t buy into the gender binary of masculine and feminine and that I can’t be contained within one of those boxes. I connect with and embody both aspects. Oftentimes one more than the other. They are two parts of me that I see as working together to create a sense of internal wholeness that feels healing, empowering, and frankly, pretty badass and futuristic. Pink or blue? Give me both.

And when I say I’m pansexual, I mean that I’m romantically inclined toward a person because of who and what they are in their soul, rather than what body they occupy. Romantic love, and all forms of love, are spiritual in nature for me. To assign limits in my romantic life based on biological sex, gender, or gender identity seems ridiculous to me. I won’t accept limits when it comes to love, and I’ll cherish connection wherever I discover it.

In March, Paige (who knew I had come out) asked if I wanted to participate in “The Beauty and Power of our Gender Diversity” worship service. Part of me really wanted to and felt like I should. I wanted to be ready, but I wasn’t. And of course, as Paige told me then and I believe now, that’s okay. But what a gift that service was for me. I felt so connected to those that shared their stories and experiences. I most certainly was moved to tears throughout the hour. I felt deep gratitude for the beauty, authenticity, and strength of Ariel, Suzi, Herb, and Regina, and the experience allowed me to more lovingly and significantly connect with my humanity and inner truth. 

There’s no doubt in my mind that I have so many loved ones, this faith and its people, that worship service, and even this slowed down year of a pandemic to thank for this coming out moment and for this space to discover myself and feel comfortable enough to share it openly with you all. I’m not so sure I would have ever arrived at this moment on my own without all of the love and support. What a gift it is to feel my inner world aligned with my inner truth. Thank you for your part in making it happen.

With love,
Sara