Come on guys.  Haven’t you ever come out before?  We, of all people, should know that the Tim Tebow blogcircus will do nothing to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, out of the closet; that is, if they in fact live closeted lives in the first place.  

Exhibit A: The first 25 years of my life.  I talked a certain way, liked certain things, did certain activities, and even as everyone around me whispered, pulled, taunted, and aggressed me to come out, I only denied the fact more fervently, especially to myself, and recoiled deep, deep, deeper into the closet.  Celibate for years.

It’s not an unusual story.  I had a college friend whose lover, in some flash of anger, out-ed him to his parents.  I just watched from the sidelines wishing it had been me.  What an easy “out;” he didn’t even have to do anything.  Just say Yes.  We all waited.

He said No, and we all went back to whispering.  It was nearly a decade before he came out, and I’m sure the fever pitch of confirmed and un-confirmed rumors did nothing to help.  But he did it when he was ready.

Coming out, for those of us who have gone through it, can represent one of the most important, difficult, liberating, and above all, personal acts of our lives.  It’s also a process.  Have we forgotten?  Pressuring someone, whether it’s over coffee, clenched fist, or national campaign, is not only useless, but also rather tacky.  We don’t know him, and this kind of thing makes us look like we don’t really know ourselves.