I don’t know if I’ve brought this on myself, but I am sure that assigning blame won’t fix it. Regardless, I still worry about what the closet might have stolen from me. I worry that I’m learning things far too late for the stakes to be negligible (they’re higher and higher all the time). I worry that I missed the window where trial and error are acceptable.
We grow up, we queer folk, learning that we must internalize important secrets about ourselves, important truths.
Unlearning that habit is difficult. Recovering what we missed because of it just isn’t going to happen.
We can move forward, though. We can always move forward.