Lamentation from the closet

I'm not out.  

I fight for Trans right, At community meetings, at Statehouse hearings, I walk the halls and talk to law makers. I think it helps the cause for White CIS Male lawmakers to hear these words from a fellow White CIS Man, who they think that I am, Because.  

I am not out. 

I come home to a loving family, I am madly and passionately in love with my wife of 18 years.  I often wonder if I would lose it all if I was honest about myself.  

I am not out.  

I write and publish under a woman's name.  I cross dress and feed the selfies through AI editors to make author head shots.  I have cultivated "Katie" as an entire digital persona.  I sit down at the keyboard and wrap myself in her, glowing in euphoria when others online call me "her"

I am not out. 

I have Trans friends, I work with them on advocacy, they see me as their CIS ally, I worry that they would feel demoralized or betrayed if they found out I was not a CIS ally, but a coward who would fight for them but not join them.  Even to those with whom I have a kindred spirit 

I am not out.  

I am not a typical man, I am also not a woman.  If given "the button" I would agonize endlessly over what to do.  I feel masculine and feminine, powerful and vulnerable, I want to wear blue jeans and flannel but I also want a spiny skirt and a flirty top to show off curves I do not have.  

I am not out.  

I am not Katie, I am not Him, I am too afraid to be who I am, so I am never myself.  

Because 

I am not out.