When a Close Friend Comes Out of the Closet

We met in a high school class, and promptly became inseparable. We held each other's hands through unreciprocated crushes and bad boyfriend behavior. We went to college together, spending our weekdays studying and our nights out boy hunting. We shared secrets, apartments and the leftovers my parents sent to give us a break from greasy, cheap college student food.

Later in life, we were in each other's weddings. We cheered each other through home-buying adventures, bad days at work, and promotions. In our late 20's, I helped her through her divorce, only to have her do the same for me in our mid-30's.

Even when she relocated several states away, she remained that friend I could call in the middle of the night to cry, and the one I would drag my tired butt out of bed for at 2 a.m. to answer the phone. We've been "sisters by choice" in many ways.

Sheila was always my unpredictable, boy-crazy friend, the one who could turn a trip to the grocery store into an all-night adventure or who would show up at my house declaring we were heading out to "meet new guys" and actually make it happen. I could never be sure what the news would be when the phone rang and it was Sheila on the other end.

Still, she caught me way off guard a few years ago, when she called at 8 a.m. with tears choking her voice. I was in my office, preparing for a busy day at work.

"I have to tell you something, and I don't want you to hate me," she said.

"Of course I'm not going to hate you. What's up?"

"I'm bisexual. I've been dating women for over a year now."

I couldn't help it. The first words out of my mouth were "What? Did I hear that right? You're what? Bisexual?"

When a long-time friend comes out of the closet, you can't help but be surprised. Over times, your thoughts, feelings and reactions may continue to be ones you never would have expected.

You can't help but be surprised when a friend springs news you'd never imagine on you. But when it happens, you need to understand and accept your own reactions, and try to be aware of the challenges your friend has been facing. She's still the same person she always was, but this major facet of her life is one that has the capacity to change your friendship if you don't understand and work through your own emotions. Any major life change requires some adjustment.

So, how do you react, adjust and cope with such news?

Understand your own feelings and don't judge yourself for having them.

I have to admit, that when Sheila first shared her discovery with me, my reaction was one of dismay. And I hated myself for it.

I have never been a person with issues about sexual orientation. Two of my other closest friends are gay. I have advocated for gay marriage and berated others in my social circle who initially felt uncomfortable around my gay friends. So my emotional response to Sheila's news made me feel like a hypocrite. Why did it matter so much to me that she was bisexual? Was I acting like one of the bigoted, closed-minded people that I'd always made fun of or ignored?

Over time, I came to understand, respect and work through my feelings. It wasn't bisexuality that upset me. It was reconciling the straight, first downright boy-crazy and then loving, committed wife Sheila I'd always known with Sheila as a bisexual. It was trying to understand what her realization meant about all our years of helping each other work through dating, marriage, divorce and dating again in a traditional heterosexual fashion. It was accepting that those times in our life weren't any less meaningful or real to her just because they were no longer her main focus in romantic relationships.

Change is strange

Major changes in the lives or lifestyles of our friends or family impact us, regardless of our acceptance and understanding. Think about it. When a member of your long-time crew of singles gets married and embarks on life as a couple, your relationship with that person changes in subtle ways. When a friend has children and becomes enmeshed in motherhood, and you're still all about your single life and your career, you suddenly have less in common and have to work to maintain your closeness.

In some ways, a long-time friend coming out is no different. You can't help but question what it means for you and for your friendship. Your acceptance of sexual orientations has nothing to do with your fears that the differences in your lives and social circles will impact your relationship over time.

Sheila and I had always had remarkably similar life experiences. And now, for the first time, there was a major difference in how we live and love. I was afraid it would make it hard for us to relate to each other's experiences the way we always had.

Change jolts our perception of the world and our realities. It would have been just as odd to me had one of my gay friends, who I have known as gay for over a decade, came to me with the news that he was questioning his sexuality and was in love with a woman. Our sexuality doesn't define us, but it is one major component of who we are and how we live.

One of the things that most helped me understand that my reaction wasn't about sexual orientation as much as change, was thinking back on my own experiences. I had met my husband when I was just 20 years old, and we were together until my mid-30's. So many of my friends, even friends I'd had since college, knew me as a woman in a committed relationship. I was the married friend who could empathize and listen to their dating and single life trials and tribulations, but I wasn't "out there" on the scene with them. When my marriage ended, that changed.

I was surprised by the reactions of my friends. It took some of them a bit of time to get used to "single me," a woman who went on dates with relative strangers and was suddenly talking about new and different men or what it felt like to live alone. They weren't judging me for my failed marriage or my new lifestyle, but they were a bit thrown by the difference in how and where I spent my time. It wasn't good or bad, but it was change.

Working through how people reacted to the changes in my life greatly helped me to understand my own feelings about what her sexuality would mean in Sheila's life and in how our lives intertwined.

Don't judge your friend's feelings regarding coming out to you.

While I was trying to understand my own initial reaction to Sheila's revelation, I was also surprised to find myself a bit hurt. It bothered me that she had been struggling with understanding and accepting her sexuality for quite some time before she was ready to confide in me. After all, we'd always shared everything, right?

Sheila had been living a bisexual lifestyle for almost a year before she felt comfortable telling me. Even though I was the first in our long-time social circle she chose to confide in, I couldn't help but be a bit saddened by her reticence. I wondered how we could have had so many marathon conversations over the last year, and yet this major part of her life had never come up.

It is understandable in this situation to feel that your friend didn't trust in you. But no matter how close our friendships are, we are entitled to our privacy and personal space. The fact that Sheila chose to confide in me at all is a privilege of our friendship, not a right.

Sheila and I grew up in a small, generally close-minded neighborhood. We weren't exposed to homosexuality or bisexuality, unless you count the ignorant jokes we heard from both adults and peers. One of the more common expressions in our neighborhood was "It was Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." As a woman, you grew up, found a guy, got married and raised a family. That was just how it was. We had already talked about feeling like oddballs in our hometown because our marriages had failed and we hadn't had children. I can only imagine how Sheila felt about adding "oh, and I'm bisexual" to the mix.

We prided ourselves on being more open-minded than our upbringing would suggest. But the religious and social stigmas you encounter early on in life are experiences you carry with you into adulthood. They're often stored somewhere in your brain, even if you've discounted them as truth. Intelligent and beautiful women who grow up feeling like "ugly ducklings" often feel that way throughout their lives, no matter what their string of successes and the mirror tell them about who they really are. In spite of her own personal development and her adult circle of likeminded friends, Sheila's upbringing made it difficult for her to accept who she is at first. And when you haven't accepted a part of yourself, the last thing you want to do is share that piece of you with someone else.

The best advice I can give about feeling "shut out" if your close friend chose not to confide in your early on is that it isn't about you. Remember that we never know how we'd react in a situation until we find ourselves in it. The important thing is how you communicate with each other now.

Which brings me right to my next point.

Some things change, but how you communicate shouldn't be one of them.

For some of us, inquisitiveness is as natural as breathing. I have always been a storyteller and an observer of human nature. I'm interested in the details of any life that is different from my own. So I've always been one to ask questions, and lots of them.

On top of that, Sheila and I have always had open and frank discussions about relationships and sex. As teenagers, we talked through our excitement and fears about losing our virginity. Down the road, we gave each other play-by-plays of how it actually happened. We discussed different partners and sexual encounters over the years. We laughed at awkward experiences and discussed our likes and dislikes at length. I was a writer, always wanting to know. She was a psychologist, always needing to analyze. It was the perfect combination for open, frank discussions that may have often been too graphic for others.

When she opened up to me about her bisexuality, I had a million questions. What was it like? Is it harder to be faithful to one person if you're interested in both sexes than if you're either straight or gay? Did she even expect that in her relationships, or were they open? Did she feel most sexually fulfilled with men or with women? What about emotionally?

Because Sheila knew I'd always been curious and questioning about almost everything, and our friendship was built on blunt and honest discussion, it was nothing for me to just ask. In fact, if I hadn't, Sheila probably would have felt I wasn't comfortable with her anymore, knowing how we'd always been before. So I did.

But if our relationship had been one where we shied away from talk of sex before, my questions may have seemed inappropriate and voyeuristic. If we hadn't often talked about sex before, my wanting to start now might have felt belittling to her, even if all I really wanted was for her to help me understanding a life and feelings I hadn't encountered myself.

Base what you ask and what you expect in return on your past communication style and on the cues you get from your friend. If she wants to talk about it, she'll let you know. If you aren't sure, just let her know you're willing if that's what she wants or needs. And if you've never been comfortable discussing these kinds of details with your friends, and suddenly she wants to give you play-by-plays, don't be afraid to say "too much information."

Help your friend come out to others, but don't force the issue.

When Sheila came out to me, her reaction was one of immense relief. Holding a big part of your life secret from your friends and loved ones is stressful, and you feel a disconnection with them even if everything else remains the same. On my part, I had noticed that Sheila was a bit more reticent and preoccupied than usual, and I was relieved to learn that this was why.

Because letting me in was such a positive experience for us both, it was natural for me to want her to come out to others she loved as well. I'd accepted the news. Why wouldn't her other close friends or her family?

But who to come out to and when to come out to them are Sheila's choice and her choice alone. Only her intuition and her knowledge about the people she cares for can guide her through that part of her life.

As the friend of someone who is dealing with coming out, your role is to be supportive, not to push them into it or do it for them. You can help them talk through their decisions. You can even help them prepare what they'll say to different people, if that's what they want. But then you have to step back and let them do things in their own time and way, and be prepared to be a shoulder and a sounding board in those rare instances where things don't go well.

When a longtime friend comes out of the closet, it is natural to feel a wide range of emotions. We always wonder how our relationships will withstand change, regardless of what the change is. We're surprised when we learn that there may have been a secret between us and our friend for quite some time. We may be curious and supportive, a little shy or even relieved.

But the most important thing is, we're still friends. If you remember that, the rest falls into place.