When it happened, my 'coming out' to the straight folk
in my shared house was easier for them than it was for me.
They could take a break from my struggle to find my new self
in ways that I could not, but I liked their acceptance.
Their apparent ease was a tonic when I needed one.
My struggle was partly against how little I knew
of the minority community attached to my new choice of self.
When the worst of my struggle was over
it was clear that I had been a token of liberal tolerance
for those apparently welcoming straight folk;
any human token would have done for them.
The further I got into being 'out' the more I found
that real diversity lay in freedom from being judged;
real life was as far beyond the tokenism of tolerance
as the deficient community of my new identity.
I had to just trust that who I was would carry me through.