Humility in the Closet

Control, Fear, and Coming Out

Last week, I shared my coming out story. What I didn’t talk about was everything I learned about humility while I was still in the closet—and what I’m still figuring out now.

Growing up, I could be myself in most spaces. I didn’t worry much about my voice or my gestures. I passed well enough. That gave me a kind of freedom—except when it came to romance. That door stayed closed.

More than closed—sealed.

The fear of Hell will do that to you. When you're taught that expressing yourself sexually might cost you eternity, you don’t just hide. You bury. You seal that part of yourself off so completely, you forget it was ever yours.

The closet taught me something I didn’t know I needed to learn: what I thought was control was really just fear in disguise. I believed if I could keep this one thing hidden, I’d be safe. If I could manage it—perfectly—maybe I could outrun the shame.

But humility doesn’t come from managing things well. It comes from admitting what we can’t manage at all. And what I couldn’t manage, even then, was the way fear was shaping my whole life—quietly, and almost always.

The closet gave me the illusion of strategy. In truth, it narrowed my life. I thought I was being smart, but I was just scared. The humility came in finally recognizing that my hiding wasn’t wisdom. It was fear masquerading as safety.

Now, I’m out. But I haven’t dated yet. The difference? I could.

And that’s powerful—not because I’m doing anything with it, but because I’m no longer pretending that part of me doesn’t exist. I'm no longer living like it's off-limits.

That’s humility, too: naming our limits, yes—but also recognizing our choices. It’s not about pretending we have total control. It’s about rejecting the lie that we have none.

Coming out isn’t proof you’ve figured everything out. It’s just a way of saying: “I was afraid. And I’m not letting fear make every decision anymore.”

We all have places in our lives where fear dresses up like wisdom. Where silence looks like safety. Where hiding feels holy. But humility doesn’t live there.

Humility lives in honesty.

So, let me ask you: what would you choose if fear weren’t making the decision for you?

Visit ayearofhumility.net for more.