Community Rainbow Waves

Still Human

I have known I was different since I was in 6th grade, I am now a freshman in their second semester of university.I always remember being the odd one out because I didn’t find people “hot”, I even dated a guy whom I thought of just as a friend simply because I didn’t want people ever questioning me. I live in a country where being myself is illegal, where people like me are shunned and bullied at school, and religion played a big role in that. The first person I came out to was my best friend, this was during spring break of senior year in high school,I was so nervous to tell her not because I thought she would hate me but because I knew how religious her family was after all her father taught my Religions(I’m not mentioning which religion because I don’t want people attacking any religion)class, even then I couldn’t say the words in person I sent her the longest message then I closed my phone and didn’t look at it for hours, she was actually pretty chill about it. The second person I came out to was to an openly bisexual student at my high school, I didn’t even know her that well but I trusted her and out of solidarity I came out. I came out to my sisters the summer before my first semester at university, my younger sister didn’t quite understand but she was chill, when I told my older sister she came out to me which was awesome.

Then flash forward to club showcase at my university my sister and I are walking around pointing out clubs we want to join then my sister grabs my hand and leads me to a table that has changed my life. My university had an LGBT+ club and I joined. Everyone was welcome in the club and I felt like I had found my home. No one ever asked me what I identified as we just all talked, laughed and accepted one another. I consider myself aspec and as someone who uses micro-labels to specific I identify as a demiromantic demisexual. When I came out to my club they were accepting even though the aspec community is a known, some of them didn’t know what asexual or aromantic meant but they were willing to learn. At that point I still identified as a female but I felt wrong in my own skin. Winter break I came out to my mother as demisexual and she told me that it wasn’t a real thing but she accepted me whatever that means so at that point I decided maybe I would not tell her anything ever again. I went online and found other people going through the same thing and decided I would do something. So at first I used ace bandages which is NOT recommended no one should do that. Then I finally ordered some binders and tried them I had never felt more myself. Now I was stuck in the situation of having to come out again but this time as non-binary. I started by telling m friends who were in the club then I just told the whole club. I tried to tell my sister but turns out not everyone in the community is inclusive and that just made me so sad. My mother got made when she found my binders and confiscated them luckily I have good friends who ordered more for me. I would leave my apartment go to a campus bathroom then put on a binder. Still my friends accepted they immediately used my pronouns they/them and corrected people who still used she’her they were considerate when I struggled to pick a new name for myself because I felt my birth name was not my own.

As someone who hasn’t seen people like myself on TV or online in general I thought I was messed up that there was something wrong with me. I found myself online with people who are so accepting, the ace and aro community were so willing to help me find myself, and I did. Maybe I’ll come out to my family maybe I won’t but I found my real family and they know me and accept me. So I’m writing this in hopes that it will help someone not feel alone, because as Dominique said out is the new in. I am OUT.

Free proud lesbian woman

I realized I was gay at a very young age I have my brother to thank for that because he was the first to realize who I truly was. I had my first girl crush when I was 12 my brother helped me build up the courage to tell her even though she didn’t feel the same we continued our friendship til this day I thank my brother because without his help I probably would not have came out I can honestly say my family supported me from day one and loved me for who I am…

No Labels, Just Love

As a young child, I was kind fascinated by lesbian relationships on tv; Bad Girls (UK), All Saints (Aus), The L Word (USA) etc. etc., but this was all on the downlow. I’d watch the shows with little to no interest during the day and devour fanfiction stories about them by night. I had some instances of “experimentation” with a friend or two, but that didn’t mean what I thought it meant, did it? I went to secondary school, had no boyfriends, stuck with my fanfiction, and found “hot male celebrities” to “have a crush on” to balance the “girl crushes” I had. In my mind, I was totally chill with this me who ~has crushes on men and women~, but in person? I didn’t talk about it with anyone; I was scared because I didn’t want to hurt people, upset them, lose them.

In year 10 (UK age 14/15), my social circle expanded and grew to include a girl my best friend had met in another class, L. She and I quickly became close friends and it was great, until I heard that L and her childhood best friend had ‘messed around together’. Here my brain was like “wowww, another non-straight girl like me!”. I became slightly obsessed, I’ll admit. L was my best friend but she’d flirt with me; call me sexy specs while having a boyfriend, snuggle up with me then go and see him. I thought I was in love with her. I eventually grew a pair, picked my self respect up off the floor and walked away from that hot mess.
After a while, I met a guy friend at work and we became really close, like brother and sister. One night we were chatting and he came out to me as bi, so I did the same back. It fit at the time, but it was also the easy way out; it was a label and not a label. He helped me to be open about not being straight in a way I’d never been able to before and I’m still so grateful for that. We eventually found Tumblr and it gave us a place to “be honest in a sea of strangers”; it changed my life, quite literally.

On Tumblr, I met a girl. This girl became my friend, then my best friend, then so much more. She was like nothing I’d ever met before, made me feel things in technicolour and UV. She taught me it was okay to be me, to be different, to be honest and feel the things I felt. She was the reason I came out, the reason I wanted to come out. The day we met in London, I left my mum a letter explaining about me, about us, and that I had made arrangements for somewhere else to stay if she wasn’t okay with me any more. Half an hour away from London on the train I received a text from my mum telling me that we were okay, she was okay, and that she loved me. That was now eight years ago, and that girl is currently sitting next to me on our sofa, in our home, the day after our eighth anniversary.

Coming out is something I do every time I meet someone new, but it doesn’t have to be a huge declaration. I used to be petrified about it; my heart rate would spike, I’d get sweaty palms, I’d be all stuttery and lame about it. But now? “Yeah, I live with my girlfriend.” “Me and my girlfriend went there”. “I went to visit my mum with my girlfriend”. The other day, I was asked at work if I was a gay woman (due to my rainbow lanyard, not out of the blue!). Even a year or two ago, that question would have sent me into a panic. But this day, I held my head up, kept eye contact and said “yeah, I am”.

I still don’t really like labels or definitions but: I am a woman in love with another woman and that is okay.

Katrina, 29, queer- CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT DEPRESSION.

I was thirteen when I first remember becoming aware that I was in some way different to my female friends. While they giggled and whispered about which boys they liked I noticed that I did not feel the same. I reasoned that it was likely because I found the boys immature and annoying; or perhaps I was too focused on my learning to pay them much attention, or perhaps I was a late bloomer. Whatever the reason I chose not to think too much about it.

At fifteen the devastatingly crushing realisation that I might be gay hit me. I say devastatingly crushing because up until then my understanding of the term gay was that it was only ever used as an insult. It was a label thrown around by bullies against the bullied, and it was something you actively avoided being called. I did not want to be gay. However, here I was at fifteen watching a channel 4 documentary about a family based in the city I grew up in, and it was while watching this documentary that I realised the only reason I watched every week was because I thought one of the family members was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. This realisation forced me to reflect on past behaviours and I quickly realised that when watching TV or movies I paid all my attention to the actresses rather than the actors. When idolising singers, I favoured female singers more then male. All this time I convinced myself that it was because I found them talented and relatable, and although that is true, I also couldn’t deny that I found them ridiculously attractive, something I never thought about when it came to men. So, at fifteen I realised that I might be gay. At fifteen I also realised that I needed to hide this part of me at all costs.

I had nobody in my circle of friends or family that were gay, nobody I could look up to as a healthy and real example of what it meant to be gay. The only thing I had was childhood insults and barely any TV/movie representation. Even as recent as 2005/6, LGBTQ+ media representation in the UK was viewed as a salacious thing, something for post-watershed TV that guaranteed to draw in hundreds of complaints if shown and so hardly ever was. I was petrified of what it meant to be anything other then straight, and so began the years of secrecy, self-hatred and nightly prayers for ‘straightness’. It was during this time that I resented the phrase “people choose to be gay” because it was bullshit. I actively chose to be straight for all my late teenage years, I chose to date men, I chose to kiss men, I chose to ignore the screaming voices in my head and feelings in my body that told me that kissing boys felt unnatural and forced. Everything in that time of my life felt unnatural and forced and the constant lies about who I was and what I really wanted started to take its toll.

I remember at seventeen my dad asking me whether I was gay and the reaction my body had to that question was overwhelming; my heart began racing and I started sweating as the fear caused me to adamantly deny that I was anything other than straight. Later that night I cried myself to sleep because in lying to him I had once again closed that door on my cage when there was a chance of being free. I vowed that the next time somebody asked that question I would be honest, I was too afraid to just come out and say it but next time I was asked I’d not lie. I didn’t realise it would be another four years until I was asked again.

By the time I was twenty-one the weight of this burden that I’d been carrying since fifteen (even earlier in retrospect), was so heavy that it had started to affect my mental health. I was dealing with depression, anxiety, deep shame and self-hatred. I still didn’t want to be gay but six years of pretending to be straight and praying to be straight had shown me that this identity was sticking around whether I wanted it to or not. And so, at 21 years old, and while stood in the kitchen with my dad, he asked me again whether I was hiding anything. I think he had sensed my unhappiness in the way only a parent can and was trying to find out what was causing his eldest daughter to be sad. He asked me again whether I was gay. It was clear to me then that my dad likely knew for almost as long as I did about my truth, why else would he ask me the same question twice four years apart. This time I ignored the racing heart, and dry mouth and choking sensation and I said “yeah, I think I am”.

I can’t put into words the relief that moment gave me, as adrenaline coursed through my body I immediately felt lighter. Somebody else knew my secret and the weight of it was shared. My dad was amazing about it, told me he loved me and that it never mattered to him who I loved as long as I was happy and healthy. I always knew deep down that this would be his reaction and I was relieved to find out I was right.

Regardless of whether we think our parents will be accepting doesn’t necessarily matter. It’s the fear that what if you misjudged them and their reaction, what if unknowing to you your parents held strict views against LGBTQ+ people and were disgusted and disappointed in you. The fear that I didn’t know my parents at all was what kept me closeted all those years, the fear of losing their love was enough for me to hide who I was if that’s what it took. I’m lucky that my family were accepting and loving, i know of others that weren’t as lucky. I’m almost 30 now and it’s been 9 years since I came out. I won’t lie, I’m still not fully free from the shame of being gay, I still have trouble coming out to new people or openly showing affection with a partner in public. This shame is something I recognise and that I’m working on overcoming and it does get easier as time goes on. I’m just happy to be free from that cage.

A flamboyant, macho, brainiac weirdo

Hello there,
I guess I should start with the introduction.
My name is Deniz, most people call me Deni (sounds just like Danny or Denny) and it kinda grew on me because in reality I don’t like my name. Actually I don’t like how it sounds, and sometimes people have hard time pronouncing it correctly (They usually use alternative spelling version in their native language). I just gave up eventually. In Turkish language, “Deniz” is a unisex name, the word means “sea”. For unknown reasons, people always I assume that I’m a biological man and address me as such; on the phone, on documents, in emails and etc. I know that my gender expression isn’t helping at all, but it always bothered me, being assumed to be someone and stuff.

I’d like to share a story about the time I came out as bisexual because 12 years ago coming out as queer just wasn’t in the cards. Society I was in, including myself, wasn’t ready to face the notion of gender expressions other that the binary system itself.
When I was 16, I decided to come out to my friends. I wanted to be honest, lying is not my strongest quality, never was. I was always in trıuble for being blunt. No one apreciated it, probably my dead pan face gave it away. I dunno.
I was the team captain of when I was teenager, and lots of younger swimmers in my team were looking up to me. I felt like I had the responsibility to set a good example (I mean I was the older child, I expected too much of myself I see it now). Parents were trusting me to be a wise leader, kids were coming to me with their problems. I was changing in the dressing rooms I shared with lots of younger girls and I didn’t want them to fear me. I didn’t want to seem like a predator, a freak who was supposed to be their older sister (I wasn’t even sure if I was capable of being sexually attracted to anyone until I graduated from high school, it was more of an emotional state of mine for me)
Shortly, I didn’t want to betray anyone’s trust. My coach was already sexually harrassing and grooming, flirting with (I mean what a cliché, amirite?) kids, other athletes, moms…
However, I never had the chance to be myself, I didn’t have the chance nor time to discover what I was, who I was and what I wanted in life other than what was bestowed upon me as an ideal supported and encouraged by the adults in my inner circle. (Truth time, I thought french kiss was the worst thing ever, it was messy and unsanitary, plus in high school at one time I was dating a med student and wait, I just realized that I’ve sated so many med students and I work at a hospital, what is wrong with me – I hated the French kiss because of all the med students I dated)
I attended an elite high school that is still ranked in top ten in the country I live in. It was competitive, very stressful (I don’t want to brag but Turkish education syatem is shit, I was one of the lucky ones and I had to earn my place by sacrificing anything that could be considered as fun). I never get to enjoy that high school experience as most people did. (I don’t even know what that means I mean I made out with girls and went to parties and got drunk and shit but it was low key, considering who I was in college)

One day, I just turned to my friend while we were sitting at our desks in class (I think we were in recess), mind you we were all nerds and geeks with extra ordinary curriculums up our sleeves (up to our butts, my classmate is a soloist – violinist and a successful lawyer right now), and that friend of mine was trying to solve a trigonometry equation that was bothering her for so long (time is relative). I looked at her, and in all seriousness told her that I was bisexual, that I actually liked boys and girls, as if it was my big shameful secret – it felt like I died inside.
I mean, I already dated the basketball team captain in freshman year and the drum player of the school band in sophmore, I was popular (as a weirdo maybe). It felt like a legit mistake. I could’ve seen the next day, people making fun of me and the mentioning the time they found my Lindsay Lohan photo album and asked what it was, the I replied with “She is my role model” bullshit when it was clearly, ehm… whatsevs…
Anyway, she stopped, looked at me, and said “Good for you, I’m happy for you. Now please solve this one because I can’t, and it’s embarrasing.” So, I did. It was easier to solve it if you pretend that the triangle was a part of a pizza slice, and the radius of the arc under the triangle was mirroring the parabol on the graph, thus tan(x) wasn’t just a mystery that haunted my friend for the last couple of hours. (it might have been 5 min)
She was more interested in solving the geometric riddle than whom I’d fancy. I was heartbroken. Who did she think she was? I’m just joking, it was a huge relief.

That was a wake-up call for me to be honest. That eureka moment bunked many negative pretend-comments I had about myself. I was in my head for so long. I was afraid I would let everyone down that I never realized I was letting myself down by belittling myself. I was who I was, I still am who I am. My sexuality, my gender, my gender expression are just not as interesting comparing to my personality, my vision, my interests, what I am capable of, and what I succeded.
I was really proud of myself, and then college happened…

Alya

I knew I was gay when I was in 5th/6th grade. A year later I came out to my best friend, the same month I got in to psychiatry because of depression. There they forced me to come out to my mother because “it would help me”, she just said its just a phase and she didn’t believe me, while I sat next to her crying. 2018 I was on my first CSD and my stepsister picked me up. As she saw me she was like “oh but you’re not one of them, right?” and I just started giggling. Thats how I came out to her. 3 Months later my stepsis, stepmom an my dad sit in our garden and my sis told them I wanted to tell them something, which I definitely didn’t because I wasn’t ready yet, I was the whole time like “no I don’t” so my stepmom starts to ask “did you smoke” “hell no” I replied, “did you got a tattoo?” “no” are you a lesbian?” and I instantly started to cry. Thats how I came out to my Papa. One and a half year later on new years eve 2019/2020 I came out to my mom(again) my stepdad, my foster mom and dad, friends of them. Now I am OUT AND PROUD 🙂

Love who YOU are and be who YOU are meant to be.

This is going to be a long story. Sorry in advance. This is my story and this is who I am.

Growing up in a small (3 stoplight kind of small) town in Southern California wasn’t always the easiest. This was the kind of town where everyone knew someone, who knew you. Everyone ended up knowing your business whether you wanted them to know or not.

As a kid and preteen, I always knew I was different. While other girls were concentrated on boys and learning how to put on makeup, here I was more concerned about not having enough daylight to climb rocks, ride bikes, or play outside. The only thing I wanted from a boy was to have someone to play catch with. I was always shy around girls, which is probably why the majority of my friends were boys.

As the years passed, this blonde haired, blue eyed, knobby knees kid didn’t really change.

Come high school (1999-2003 in case anyone was curious), I was still the athletic girl who hung out with all the boys. At age 16 I had my first kiss. My first kiss was with my best friend (he and I are still friends to this day). Nothing ever really ever came from that kiss. It wasn’t long after senior year started did I find out my old neighbor had a crush on me. Apparently he had a crush on me since 6th grade. We had many classes together that year. We would even walk to class together. I always saw us as just friends. One day he asked me to one of the dances at school. I had always wanted to go to the dances at school, but never thought I would have someone to take me. I agreed to go with him as long as he understood we were going as friends. The big night came and went. All the fun was had that evening and after that, life went back to normal. I was still shy and quiet.

Fast forward six months. MYSPACE and Yahoo! Messenger came into my life.
My eyes were opened to a whole new world. It was life changing!

I met so many new people outside of my tiny country town. I never really asked myself why I never wanted to date anyone. The time came when I met this girl online, we’ll just call her Mary, from the other side of my state. We would chat EVERY SINGLE DAY. Some days were just in a chat room and other days on video chat. I had NEVER spent this much time talking to anyone before. I was completely head over heels and didn’t even realize it. One day, one of my sisters asked me why I was spending so much time talking to this girl. She straight up asked me if I was a lesbian. I was scared and didn’t quite know how to answer her at the time partly because I myself didn’t really know. I ended up telling her NO. Going back to Mary, neither one of us ever told the other how we obviously felt about one another. We both graduated and moved on with the next chapter in our lives.

Summer after high school, I had already started taking summer classes for college. I was over at a friends house and he was chatting with his buddy who lived out of state. This buddy had recently gone through a rough divorce and needed a friend to talk to. My friend introduced us and we started becoming friends. That’s all we were for a while. The more we talked the more we liked each other. Long story short, I moved up to AK. We got married, this unfortunately didn’t last very long. I realized it wasn’t fair to either one of us for me to stay and try to work things out if I couldn’t be 100% honest with myself. I still felt like something was missing. Looking back I realize that I was running away when I moved to AK. Running away because I was scared of how my family, my friends, and my community would react to me telling them I was queer. I told my family I was moving back to CA. I told them I was queer. My parents are very open minded and love all of us no matter what. But with that being said, it took some time for my mom to warm up to the idea.

Not quite ready to look everyone face to face, I moved back to CA but not to the part where I grew up. I moved in with a friend I had known for a while. We went out to the Gayborhood fairly often and I really learned who I was and who I’ve always been. This friend of mine and I ended up dating for almost 3 years. I owe her the world for helping me at that time. Due to many differences this relationship wasn’t meant to be. I finally moved back “home” to be close to family.

It took 5 years of me being gone to realize home was where I was meant to be. I was able to get close to my family again. You know what, it was the best decision I ever made. I absolutely love my family and I’m very lucky to have them. They welcomed me back with open arms. I was able to reconnect with old friends and make some new friends. One of those new friends became my wife about 7 years ago. We have been together for almost 12 years now. Although we are no longer living in CA, we have made a home and are now a family of .

No matter what life throws at you, you will rise back up and shine. come at the end of a storm.

For the curious minds out there, “Mary” and I are still great friends. We have been there for each other through all of the ups and downs life has thrown at us over the years.

Libby

since i’m still really young and somewhat closeted, there’s not a ton that i can do, but i try everyday to make someone else smile. i make sure that my friends know they’re valid and that how they feel is valid. i make sure they know they’re loved. coming to the realization that i was gay was pretty difficult. especially because i’ve grown up christian, so i just assumed that i should be homophobic because that’s how it works, right? it wasn’t until i hit middle school that i realized that just because i’m christian i don’t have to be homophobic. my friends started coming out to me and i realized that it doesn’t matter that they’re gay because i still love them and being gay hasn’t changed who they are. it’s just given them more confidence and that’s beautiful! by seeing how confident my friends were in coming out and just being themselves, it gave me the courage to explore my queerness. there was a lot of internalized homophobia which made it difficult to to finally just say to myself that i don’t like boys. but eventually, i got there. coming out to my friends was pretty easy since most of my friends were already out to me. the friends i was really anxious to come out to we’re my church friends. i could’ve chosen to just stay in the closet and hide part of me from them, but the more i tried to hide it, the harder it became to be around them. and not being around them really hurt because they’re some of my BEST friends! so one day, i decided to just go for it. i told all of them individually and to my surprise, they were ok with it! they know i’m gay and they still love me! they put up with my stupid gay jokes and all of my weird hand gestures. i am so lucky to have friends like them and i realize that not everyone is this lucky, but if you’re struggling to come out, or you want to come out but you’re not sure of your label yet, this is my advice to you: you don’t need a label to be valid. wait until you’re ready. don’t force yourself out of the closet. wait until you’re sure you’re ready. you don’t have to tell everyone all at once. you can pick just a few people or even just one person to come out to. if that person/those people don’t accept you at first, give them time. think about how long it took you to accept yourself! if they say that they can never accept you, i know it hurts, but remember that there is an ENTIRE COMMUNITY right here who is ready to accept and love you for exactly who you are! for all of my christen queer folks, i know that people often say “jesus said that being gay is wrong” or “being gay is a sin”, but that’s not true. jesus never ONCE said that being is wrong. your sexuality is NOT a sin, but even if it was, god says that all sins are equal! and jesus died FOR our sins! so that they may be forgiven!! you can be queer and christen. god still loves you! (i know this was really long. sorry) i hope this made you smile and/or gave you validation. have a wonderful day!

Queer

Looking back at my sexual awakening. I always knew I was ‘different’ but didn’t fully understand what meant. I thought at first my feelings towards women had to be wrong because of what happened to me when I was 14 with a trusted female adult. Those feelings were tied to shame. A shame that I am now beginning to deal with and understand. Then of course being bullied about being queer growing up- it forced me want to bury any of those feelings and never let them surface. Then when I finally, sort of started to acknowledge my feelings towards woman; it was with a woman that physically assaulted me- more than once. I always blamed myself and thought if liking a woman means some sort of trauma happens, I don’t want a part of it. So back to hiding I went. It wasn’t until I was 23 when I realized I couldn’t keep hiding this part of me and had to see what it meant. That is when I gathered some courage and asked out my kickboxing instructor. I got shot down but it was because she was already in a relationship. She didn’t let me leave feeling discourage. She introduced me to the queer community. I met so many great people who were welcoming and comfortable with who they are. I had my first healthy female relationship and I knew there was no going back after that. Despite the cruel things that would happen walking down the street holding hands. The pain of hiding my truth was more painful than the pain my traumas had caused.

After awhile of just accepting and exploring this part of myself. I decided to tell my sister, who was overall supportive but thought it was a phase. My Dad asked if I was gay because I was living in a city. Like somehow a city turned me gay? I wasn’t sure how to unpack that question. He also thought it was a phase and I just needed to get it out of my system. When I told my childhood friend about this part of me, she forcibly tried to kiss me. When I denied her, she was like, “see you aren’t attracted to women”. Holy terrifying. I knew that was a completely inaccurate statement to make and that she didn’t understand.
My family and friends had only ever known me to be in relationships with guys. I didn’t know I needed to choose. I knew I was attracted to both sexes. It confused me too. Eventually, I realized that I am attracted to guys and can be with guys but I feel a deeper connection when I am with women. Once I realized that part of me, it was much easier to communicate and accept my sexuality.
Things aren’t always going to make sense or be easy but never let it stop you from your truth. Know that in the what seems like the darkest of times there is always a light, even if you have to look really hard for it.

Odaatlover

This story will include a lot of binary-ness in order to properly convey my thoughts and feelings, since that’s how I saw the world for most of my life.

It was sometime around 7th grade when I began to realize that I liked girls. Of course, there were signs way before then – always wanting to be the “man” when playing house, always using the pronouns “she/her” when making up love songs, constantly removing the clothes from my sister’s Barbie dolls…and this all happened when I was in the single digits. But around 12 years old was when I became curious about other girls in a way that – looking back now – was more than just friendly. I liked boys, they made good friends since I had more in common with them than with other girls, but something about girls was more alluring to me. I had a curiosity for them that was indescribable. Of course, now that I’m an adult, I know exactly how to describe it…GAY AF.

There was this one girl that I found really attractive…we’ll call her Anne, for the sake of anonymity. Anne was in my class in 7th grade, and I found myself looking at her (AKA, checking her out) quite often. In 8th grade, Anne was in the same P.E. class as me. When changing out in the locker rooms, I always chose the locker close to hers. At the time, I thought it was because I just liked that particular locker…NOPE. Turns out it was just because I liked that particular Anne. I would steal glances at her body, which I’m a little embarrassed to admit now because it seems very stalkerish, but if you’re not creepily stalking your crush at 13 years old, are you really even 13 years old? See, I had no idea it was possible to even be attracted to girls like that, because my parents did an excellent job of shielding me from the “gay lifestyle” (nice try, ‘rents). So, I didn’t think anything of it. I just assumed that I was obsessed with her because I wanted to be her, not because I was attracted to her or anything. So I proceeded to carry out the rest of my middle school career with the carefree mindset that I was just like everyone else my age. Ah, the serenity.

Then I went to high school…and 9th grade was a game changer for me. I found out that, plot twist, you actually can be gay! (insert well-known Home Alone Macaulay Culkin picture here)

I started to notice myself paying more attention to (eye humping) girls around me, and I began to question my sexuality. Do I like girls? Am I gay? I like boys too though, right? I mean, I must, because obviously in every single movie and TV show I’ve ever seen, girls like boys…I’m probably bisexual. Yep, that’s it. I’m bisexual. Mystery solved!

…that lasted all of three days after making the dreadful mistake of looking at porn sites with naked men on our home computer while my parents were out of the house. *shudders*

Nope. Definitely not bisexual. I only like girls. 100%.

But then, a thought occurred to me…”can I really say that if I’ve never had a boyfriend before? I don’t think I can…I need a boyfriend!”

A couple months later, after daily bartering and promises to a god that I didn’t believe in that I would do my chores every day in exchange for a boyfriend (as if god somehow cared that my room was kept clean and the dishwasher was emptied regularly), a miracle happened…the very awkward boy in my P.E. class that I had never spoken more than two words to passed me a note that said, verbatim, “I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” And of course, I said ‘yes’. I was beyond excited…until the next day, when the initial excitement of the thought of having a boyfriend had worn off, and I realized that this guy was my boyfriend. Before, I was only thinking about the label ‘boyfriend’, not about what the job actually entailed. I took one look at him and had this sinking feeling in my stomach that something wasn’t right. I had a boyfriend…not a girlfriend, a boyfriend. I had to hold this guy’s bulky hand, and hang out with him outside of school, and converse with him while he looked at me like I was special, and kiss him. And none of that sounded appealing to me. Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last very long. And honestly, I’m not even sure if I can call it a relationship since we never held hands, never kissed, and never spoke outside of that P.E. class. In fact, I barely even spoke to him *during* P.E. class. I avoided that boy like the plague, and the only thing that dictated that we were even together was the fact that I had changed my status on Myspace to “in a relationship”. I mean, I had a better connection with my dog – who was a female, ironically.

It wasn’t until I was 15 and nearing the end of 10th grade that I had finally told one of my friends that I liked girls. She was one of those friends that I was kind of close to, but not super close to. I specifically chose her because I knew she would be okay with it, but just in case she wasn’t, I wouldn’t be super heartbroken about losing her as a friend. I texted her (of course) that there was this girl that I liked – not Anne, someone completely different, because teens move fast – and she was super cool with it!

A couple of months later at band camp, I was eating lunch in the dining hall with the guys on the drum line with me, and an attractive girl from another camp walked by, and one of the guys said, “Whoa, that girl is hot!” The rest of the guys at the table verbally agreed, and I naturally nodded my head in silence. He noticed, and with a surprised look asked me, “You think she’s hot?” I paused, doing the whole internal dialogue of do I lie or do I use this moment to come out? I chose the latter, and nodded my head. With an even more surprised look, he asked, “Are you gay?” I nodded my head again. The guys at the table looked around at each other and basically said, “Oh, cool.” Some were surprised, some were not so surprised, but nobody said anything negative. By the end of band camp, pretty much the entire band knew, and I was out!

After that, I decided to change my newly created Facebook profile to say “interested in women”. I set it to where only my friends at school could see, since they already knew, and it felt really freeing.

…turns out it was set to public, and my mom saw it. This was a couple of months after band camp. It was a September day, and she was driving me home from a lesson I had with my percussion teacher. With a small laugh she asked, “Why does your Facebook profile say that you’re interested in women?” She obviously thought that it was a mistake – and a very amusing one at that – and I did the internal dialogue thing again. Am I ready? Do I take the opportunity and just run with it? There’s never going to be a good time, and everyone at school already knows. Might as well just get it over with now. With a very small voice, I said, “Because I am.” She stopped laughing, and the car got really quiet. The amused smile was wiped from her face, and was replaced by a look of something that resembled a mix of pain, disappointment, and confusion. I had never been more terrified in my entire life than I was in that moment.

You see, I come from a very religious, very conservative family. So, to say that she wasn’t okay with it was an understatement. (Author’s note: What the FUCK was I thinking??)

She was quiet the rest of the ten-minute drive home with a frown plastered on her face, obviously trying to figure out what to say to her ‘confused’ daughter, since she had been completely blindsided. And I just sat there looking ahead at the road, trembling with sweaty palms and a racing heartbeat, realizing that I had just made a terrible mistake. I wanted so badly to go back inside my comfortable little closet, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

When we got home, she forced me to tell my dad. My dad has the same personality as me – witty, unassertive, avoids confrontation, wouldn’t hurt a fly, nerdy. Growing up, my mom was the ‘scary’ parent. I wasn’t afraid of what my dad would say in response, because he’s a very calm man, unlike my mom. Not that she’s a man, but she’s not the chillest cube in the tray if you get what I mean.

But as soon as she said I had to tell him, I began to freak out, because it meant that I would have to come out again. Having to unexpectedly come out like that two times in a span of 15 minutes is a lot for a young 16-year-old. Not only that, but I had never actually said the words “I’m gay” or “I like girls” out loud to someone before. I told my friend through text, I nodded my head at band camp, and the only words I had said to my mom were “because I do.” In order to tell my dad, I was going to have to actually tell him that I was gay, which terrified me more than anything in my entire life. I wasn’t ready for that, and yet I was being forced into doing so.

I walked up to my parents’ bedroom where he was lying in bed reading a book, with my mom following closely behind me. She told him that I had something to tell him, and he got up and just looked at me with confusion. I stood there, frozen, unable to get the words out. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Go ahead, tell him what you told me.” My mom said as she waited impatiently with her arms folded sternly across her chest. I instantly broke down and started crying, and my dad just hugged me. I finally was able to choke out the words “I like girls” through my sobs, and my dad just audibly swallowed in response and proceeded to hug me tighter.

The rest of that day is a bit of a blur, considering that was over 11 years ago, but basically once I had calmed down, my parents told me it wasn’t right. That I was confused, that marriage is between a man and a woman, that two women can’t even have sex together because their “parts don’t fit” (lol…I wish I had drawn them a diagram), blah blah blah. After that, my mom would sit down with me every night and we’d do ‘bible study’ together. This was on top of the Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night church services I had already been forced to attend since I was born. I was never a religious person, and even as a little kid I hated going to church, so you can imagine how awful it was having to read a book I didn’t believe in every single night with my homophobic mother, basically hating myself. This lasted pretty much until I graduated and left for college, two years later.

I never officially came out to my older sister. My parents told her, and she and I never really talked about it because I was too afraid that she would treat me the same way as my mom, but she was respectful. Everyone at school was supportive though. Nobody in my life had a problem with it except for my parents, so I began to gravitate towards my friends and away from my family.

In 12th grade, I had this friend that I was getting really close to. I worked up the courage to tell her that I liked her, and it didn’t go as well as planned. She blocked me on Facebook and never spoke to me again. Whenever she saw me in the hallways at school, she would move to the opposite side and avoid eye contact. That was a bit difficult to get through, seeing as it was the first time I ever told a girl that I liked her. But a few months later I got my first girlfriend, so it was okay. I didn’t need that girl anyways. *holds up ’90s ‘talk to the hand’ gesture* Oh, and I was with my first girlfriend for almost a year and a half (with the first year being long distance), but we weren’t compatible. Honestly, we were both tops, and even more honestly, I would’ve said yes to any girl at that point. But she was cool, and we still talk from time to time. So it’s all good.

When I got to college, I wasn’t shy about my sexual orientation. I got my degree in music education, and the majority of the guys at the music school were gay, so I knew it was a safe space. Nobody had a problem with it, and I was actually pretty popular and had a lot of friends. There were a lot of gay guys, but I was pretty much the only gay female, which made me pretty well-known. So, college life was great! Whenever I would have to go home for breaks, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to go back to that house. I didn’t want to go back to my parents. I wanted to stay in my safe little world with my supportive friends where I could make my own decisions, be who I truly was without feeling ashamed or embarrassed, and wasn’t forced to go to church. My college was only two hours away from ‘home’, but thankfully it was just far enough that I didn’t have to go back often.

Skip to 2020 (two bad relationships later), and both of my parents are still unsupportive. But at least they don’t say anything when I bring my wife to family get-togethers. They’re polite. My sister LOVES my wife, and we often hang out with my sister and her husband. Even though religion is very important to her, she’s way more open-minded than my parents, and is accepting of my sexuality and recognizes my marriage as one that’s equal to hers. After I came out to my parents, I kind of lost that relationship I had with them. I’m not super close with them, since they never truly made me feel loved and accepted. They supported me in every other aspect of my life, but couldn’t fully embrace who I was, since they don’t believe that my sexuality is real but rather just a sin and a man-made thought put into my head by modern society.

I currently only live 30 minutes away from my parents, but only visit them for special occasions. I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, but honestly, at this age I am 100% okay with that. I don&##8217;t rely on them for anything anymore, and I have an amazing wife, wonderful friends who I consider my family, and a supportive sister. I don’t need my parents to accept me in order to feel validated about who I am, and that’s okay.

So, if you’re a young person who is currently in the closet or who has come out and is having an awful experience with it, just know that it truly does get better. I know everyone says that, and it’s probably difficult to believe at this point in your life, but it really is true. I promise.

And if you’re a parent whose kid is struggling with their own gender or sexuality, then my advice to you is to be supportive. Tell them that you love them. And tell them that you support them, even if you don’t. The last thing you want to do is make them feel like who they are is invalid or wrong, because you will lose them. Even if you’re there for them through everything else, if you can’t get on board with something that is an integral part of their very being, then you will lose them.

Thank you for reading my story, and I hope this helps someone out there