A bisexual mom comes out.

As a fringe member of the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered community, I feel the shock waves resounding in our nation today. Arguments abound: Is same-sex marriage a civil rights issue or a religious taboo? Here is my take on the issue from a somewhat detached perspective. I am a married--yes, to a man--bisexual mother of two. I didn't get married to avoid my sexuality; my life just turned out that way. My soul mate happened to be a man. Things could have turned out differently. There is one other person in my life to whom I have always felt particularly connected, and if I had met her first, who knows what would have happened? I might be writing this article from a whole different slant. But fate--being what it is--matched me with a man, and now I am happily married and living in middle-class hell, hidden in plain sight here in this great country of bigotry and favoritism.

Do I sound bitter?

The past year has given us all cause to be a little bit bitter.

The current political climate in our nation is intentionally causing irrevocable harm to GLBT Americans. People who merely want to live their lives and love their partners are being singled out for scorn and judgment more than ever before--and to what end? To help a political campaign gain firepower and fuel the homophobic views of Middle America in order to win an election. Religious organizations are gathering and indoctrinating their folds in a crusade to unite church and state and prove once and for all that their adherents are the superior race.

What is this, Germany circa 1935?

If I'm so angry, you might ask, why have I felt the need to hide the truth about myself from the general population out here? To be honest, I'm torn: I fear confrontation, yet I detest injustice.

The hardest part about being in the closet regarding your true sexuality is having a normal conversation with friends or coworkers about a subject on which you have strong opinions. I have always been an advocate for justice, and I have also been the victim of injustice. Brutally teased in grade school, junior high, and high school, I ached to be "one of the gang" but never was. That kind of treatment hurts no matter who you are or what trait you are being attacked for. But to sit in a circle of people you work with and be silent when someone makes a joke about another person's "lifestyle" or sexual orientation is the most demoralizing experience of all.

I have finally had enough. Until 2001 only two people in the world knew I was bisexual: One was my husband, and the other was a past girlfriend. I have always been very empathetic to everything and everyone, particularly the GLBT community that I secretly belong to. So I've always had very strong opinions about equal rights even before the same-sex marriage issue exploded this year. I've always vowed that I wouldn't shrink back into the wood work to protect myself if the issue came up in conversation. But these times call for something more: It's time to stand up for what I believe in and be the best person I can be, including being openly bisexual.

Now my office is covered with SAFE SPACE stickers, FIGHT DISCRIMINATION signs, a rainbow flag, and an article from The Advocate explaining in plain human terms why same-sex marriage is important.

Now I am reclaiming my life in many ways. Years ago I strayed from my faith and stopped attending church because I couldn't deal with the church's archaic views on progressive issues like human sexuality, birth control, and abortion. With help from a compassionate clergy member, Old Catholic archbishop Bruce Simpson--who has published articles in The Advocate--I have made contact with a local congregation of people who believe the same things I do: that we are all created equal and we are here on this earth for one purpose--to love one another and to be the best human beings we can be.

No longer will I worry about keeping up with the Joneses--whether that be Bob and Carole Jones or Bill and Ted Jones.

Joslin and her family reside in Northern California.