Autoethnography. Entry 5 — Coming out in Russia
The issue of coming out was a huge deal when I was living in Russia. It always felt weird and often very uncomfortable to say to someone that I was a lesbian. The word itself carried an unpleasant stickiness as if it meant something inherently repulsive. I did not actually like being identified as one and preferred to say that I was living with a woman or that I loved a woman — these were my ways to avoid the ‘lesbian’ label to be applied to myself. But one way or another, I did come out to several people, and the experiences were, let’s say, interesting.
Firstly, I came out to my mum — a week after I left my husband for a woman. It happened nine years ago. Mum was speechless. She literally could not come up with anything to say for several minutes, which was pretty unusual for her normally very talkative persona. I brought some wine, we had a glass, and I took her to a restaurant to chat. I tried to explain her the situation as well as I understood it myself back then — although honestly, I did not understand much — and did not actually know what I could expect from her. I was proud of myself for being honest with her and hoped she would appreciate that. At first, it seemed that she did. In several days, however, she started panicking. She wrote long emails to me trying to find the reason for my behaviour, she tried to convince me it was not serious, she rebelled against the situation, she even insisted on me going to a psychotherapist — which of course I did not — and she communicated with my husband to calm him down. I cannot blame her for the latter, but I felt a bit offended and angry because of that since I also needed her support (actually somebody’s support — there was none since I had no friends because of the strict patriarchal rules my husband tied my with). And what I could not forgive her for even a longer time was that she told about the situation to my husband’s grandmother without my or my husband’s permission. Grandmother was furious and accursed both me and my new love with horrible words, which my mum considered a necessary thing to convey to me.
In a few months, there was my mom’s birthday. She did not invite me and my partner asking what would her (my mum’s) friend would think if she did and how she would explain the situation. I was so angry at her. So there she was — instead of caring about me, she cared about her friends’ opinion of me. Bullshit!! Of course, rationally speaking, it was so very logical — I mean, given the social and cultural norms aired around my mom in her provincial town and also considering my mom’s Soviet background. Everyone was supposed to be normal, which meant heterosexual, although this word itself was never used as was not any socially dominant group referred to by its key characteristic. There was no vocabulary and knowledge around non-normative sexuality. Around sexuality in general, in my mom’s social circle, I would say. The famous phrase that there was no sex in the USSR was not that far from reality. There was no discussion of it; it was supposed to happen in a bedroom under a blanket with the lights off. So taking into account this understanding, it is hardly surprising that my mum could not explain my new relationship to her friends. The shame, awkwardness and fear of contempt and rumours were stronger than her wish to accept me fully. She did not have cultural and social equipment for this sort of acceptance. Many — especially older — people in Russia still do not have it.
Gradually, the situation improved. My partner occasionally started to help my mum with some house tasks that are usually done in Russia by men, brought her small presents, and generally tried to win her favour. I cannot say that they got on completely friendly terms, but they went as far as they both could, I think. Nevertheless, my partner’s and my lesbian identities were left outside of speakable, we did not feel free to discuss our personal life with my mum, and I felt my mum could not perceive us as a proper family. I am not even sure if she can now. Anyway, generally, it was one of the best possible scenarios as I knew that many other parents reacted much worse to their children’s coming out.
I also came out to my then male friend, whom I befriended at high school and tried to keep in touch although he moved to another city. He was astonished. I remembered the question he asked; it was whether my partner and I used a falloimitator whilst having sex. He explained the question with the idea that if not, our relationship could be explained, but if yes — he would not understand it. This question was very demonstrative of the widespread sexualisation of homosexual people (I simply cannot imagine a bed question would be asked by him if I would get a new boyfriend rather than a girlfriend) and of the lack of understanding of sexual practices.
Later, I came out to a female friend whom I got close with when I started my Master’s degree. She was pretty shocked but did not ask any uncomfortable questions. Her boyfriend, however, displayed some mixed feelings about my homosexuality and even was jealous of me, thinking that I might seduce his girlfriend. This was also quite a widespread belief as well that allegedly lesbians seduce every woman they see. I have always considered this idea ridiculous but heard it quite many times from different people.
It seems that is it. I don’t think there is somebody else I have ever directly come out in Russia. It is generally not the sort of experience one enjoys very much since it brings uncertainty and unpredictability in one’s life that is often already pretty uncertain.
