I worked with Heather in the mid 90’s.  She was young, in her early 20’s.  Just ten years her senior, I was a relatively new manager.  We were both early in our careers, eager to learn and grow.  We worked hard, and laughed even more.  We delivered some great work, and had fun doing it.

I taught Heather the fundamentals of Training & Development.  She crafted masterful powerpoint presentations, and patiently coached me on my (sad) technology skills.  She openly talked about family, friends, and her new boyfriend.  I talked about my family back in Cleveland, and the few friends I had made since moving to Cincinnati.  There were awkward moments of silence when she sought to learn more.

At 32, I had mastered what many LGBTQ people learn as a necessary coping mechanism.  I kept my personal life private.  I shared little and listened a lot.  I hid my then 12-year relationship.  Hiding and covering was the easy choice.  It was also the costly choice.  Heather talked about her plans – they were moving to Florida. She finally turned to me and began asking more probing, direct questions about me, my life, and my future.  I  told her that I had a more expansive life than she knew.  I had a life partner.  We had a home.  We had plans and dreams just like her.  I saw the sadness, and confusion in her face as she calmly asked me  “ Why didn’t you share this sooner?  Why didn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you let me in?”    The long conversation that followed didn’t relieve me or her of the loss, the pain felt deep within when you know that you have missed something you can’t ever get back – time, relationship, and connection.  All lost because I chose to hide behind the wall that I had built to protect me. I learned.

We Build Walls