Over a weekend lunch, Jon C. and I discussed being out in the work place.
For the most part, I keep my personal life just that. I’ve mixed personal and professional with gay and straight people and it usually just ends up weird. Not because I’m gay – just because. Yes, being gay does not define me (shut up – and you know who you are!), so being out at work is not a priority for me. Eventually it always happens. Sometimes by choice, sometimes not.
Of course, I always assume/think/know that I am indeed gay (yes – you can still keep your mouth’s shut!) and I just don’t discuss my personal life at most levels at work. I’m happy to do my job, do it well and leave.
At Ohio State, I mentioned that Denton had gotten a job in Cleveland. Phyllis, my boss, had to finally ask if I’d be leaving too. It’s not like I ever told anyone that he was my partner – but she was quite intuitive. Or I was just more blatant than I thought. Maybe a little of both.
In Cleveland, for the first few years, I never mentioned it at all. But my boss and his wife would often go out with the bf and myself. Again, assumed but never said. I was never sure if it was others or myself I was trying to protect by not saying anything. I still don’t. And this too was a point of discussion between Jon and myself.
At my last place of employment, I ended up outing myself to said boss before someone else who out and out asked me if I was gay. I wasn’t going to lie. He was upset – but at the person who has asked me my sexual orientation. It was no biggie – we were all very very drunk, not that Chris (theasker) wouldn’t have asked anyway. He just needed liquid courage. We’ve all been there for something or other.
This job, well, I’ve said (I think) that I outed myself to my gay boss – and the CEO has met my partner. Now we have OurSpace pages on our intranet. I have never seen a MySpace or FaceBook page, but I assume it’s like that. We are to post about jobs, our interests and personal things: favourite book, record, food, etc. And then there is martial status and name of ‘partner’. So fuck it – they ask, I’ll tell. And I did.
Now one of my staff in DC who noticed my new ring and asked: ‘are you a newlywood?’ (that spelling doesn’t look correct) will know I am not and who I am with.
She’ll also know my cats names.
Song by: Josie Cotton