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I found out when I was 11 but I guess I always felt like I knew and the first person that I told was my best friend and she has supported me through it since, then I told my mom but she just told me that I was too young and I didn’t know anything but it’s been a couple of years and I’m still the same person I still like girls i just hope she allows me to be me once I tell her again I hope she supports me.
Well, I realised I was in the community when I was 15 but I’m still figuring out myself. I started coming out when I was 16 and now I just don’t really care who knows cause I love myself and that’s all you need.
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.
When I was 7 (1987) I had my 1st crush on my art teacher. She was absolutely gorgeous. The word gay or lesbian wasn’t even a thought because I didn’t have the resources like today. No internet, only a few tv channels, no magazines or books. I brushed it off like it was normal for me and never spoke a word about it. I had a rough childhood because in my head I knew I’d never be able to talk to someone about it. It wasn’t until 95′ that I heard my 1st melissa Etheridge song. It opened me up to at least explore what I was going through. Things got a lot more complicated though. I knew I likes women but never thought of myself being gay or a lesbian. Those words were rarely used in my day to day life. Depression started in 2nd grade and still continues to this day. My worst enemy will always be my mind.
I didn’t officially come out until around 2009. I wrote an email to my family which was extremely difficult. They all knew but were waiting for me to come out. I was bringing my girlfriend home with me to meet my family. They all excepted me for who I was and excepted her as well.
Definitely one of the hardest times of my life. I still keep my personal life to myself especially at work. As much as I say I don’t care what people think, I actually do. It’s been a hard road of depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempts and lots of crying. I feel like I’ll never find someone. No matter the age, its definitely a struggle.
I kinda came out to my family the beginning of the year. I say kinda because I brought it up in a joke, that way if it didn’t go well I could always continue on with the joke. It went as I thought it would and after what felt like forever of absolute silence and blank stares, I laughed, said something funny and continued with another conversation. That’s how I deal with most things, a joke, bit of sarcasm and a smile. So this isn’t a coming out story, it’s more of a small step to getting there.
I don’t really know how to start. This story will probably come out all muddled and confusing, just like my thoughts when it comes to my sexuality. I should probably start by saying I am a 25 year old female and I’m not straight. Those are the only things I am certain of. I don’t think I always knew I was attracted to girls. Growing up you just didn’t see these types of relationships and so it didn’t occur to me that I could be anything other than straight. I think my story is similar to Dominique’s story, which I am so grateful to have read. When I found out about people who were gay, there was always a negative stigma attached to them. When I came to hear of people in the community it got me thinking that maybe I was like them as well. I was attracted to girls yes, but girls are beautiful right? So why wouldn’t I be? Plus I was very much a tomboy growing up and always hanging out with the guys, and I convinced myself it was just them rubbing off on me. But then again I was also attracted to one of the guys I was hanging out with, even ended up dating him. Dating a guy cancels out me being a lesbian though, right? So I had to have been straight.
I didn’t realize that I didn’t need to be one specific thing. To me I had to know if I was bisexual or a lesbian or anything else, because if I didn’t even know that how do I come out. So I pushed the whole attraction to females “phase” to the back of my mind. Then I started seeing LGBTQ representation in series I watched. Suddenly the part of me that was attracted to females came out again. More series came out with the representation that I needed. I would even watch a series because I knew there was a gay or lesbian couple in it. I took bits away from these couples on screen, their coming out stories and I kept it with me. Imagining that I am gathering strength from them, so that one day I will have enough strength to do the same. I remember watching Alex Danvers’ (Supergirl) coming out story. All the things she said I felt, I was with a guy at the time, and so I thought I had to be a lesbian. But… Oliver Queen though, and I was actually attracted to guys. I threw my whole “it’s just a phase” theory away because after 8 or so years it definitely had to be real.
This is something I’ve been struggling with, alone, for the longest time. At this point in my life I don’t know anyone from the LGBTQ community, no one that I can talk to so I just keep it in, in hopes that one day someone will come along. I wished I could go to ClexaCons and all the Wynonna Earp panels, just to get a sense of what community really meant. I know it could change my life. I’ve been keeping this part of myself in for the longest time, I got used to it. I got used to smiling on cue and so I feel like I can easily hide without anyone figuring out. But I don’t want to hide anymore, I want to be brave, be free. I pray that one day I will be. And that’s why I had to write this story. So that I know even in my small way I am taking a small step in fully becoming myself.
So when reading Dominique’s article I silently cried, because maybe that’s me too and maybe things don’t need to make sense right away. I don’t need to label myself; I can also just be queer. Maybe one day I will find out who I am in life and come out again (more successfully this time), maybe all of us struggling with this will. And I hope that when we do, we have enough strength to live out our lives fully and bravely and that no matter what, we will always be true to ourselves.
I always knew i was different but i didnt know what that meant. I grew up in a very secluded rich neighborhood where being straight was all there was. I was in high school when i met my first gay person and a light went off and everything just clicked. I finally knew who I was. I became me.
I knew I was queer when I was 20. I fell pretty hard for this girl in a summer program I was in while in undergrad but I didn’t let myself admit it for a long time. I came out to myself at 23. For me when I finally let myself admit that I was queer there was this moment where I looked back at my previous relationships and realized all those girls I wanted to be “super best friends” with were crushes. I could admit why I was always seeking out TV shows and movies and anything I could get my hands on that had queer representation in it. A few weeks later I called my friends and came out to them. I told them I was bi but as I’ve come to understand myself more I feel like queer or gay fits better. My friends have been supportive and wonderful. I haven’t been able to come out to my parents yet, but will at some point. They are fairly conservative and right now they are still responsible for much of my financial stability while I’m in graduate school. I’m 26 now and gender stuff has been coming up for me recently. I don’t really know what it is or how I identify gender wise all the time but I’m okay with that. I don’t need to nail it down or put a label on it. I still deal with a lot of shame and internalized homophobia that I don’t always know how to process but I’m working on being proud of who I am. It’s a lot of work and will probably be something I will always have to work on. In the meantime I’m becoming more comfortable with my gender expression and have created a space I can be myself with friends.
So, here it goes.
I can’t really remember the exact moment when I found I was “different”. But, I knew at some point of high school I realized that something in me was pretty much diverted from what the society perceives as “right”.
At first it scared me. I knew for a fact that I like boys. But at the same time, get attacted to girls. I was starting to get frightened about the fact that I’m slowly being pulled towards a kind of liking that my conservative, Catholic family wouldn’t like.
So, I made sure I supressed whatever “bad” feelings I was experiencing then. I made sure to be in a relationship with what is “conventional”.
That was in high school, and later my first two years in college. I was In and out of relationships with “boys”. I was trying my best to cure whatever it is that’s bugging me for years, and years now.
Ironically, the medicine I thought would help me was just making everything worse. I ruined friendships. I ruined myself. I was slowly being devoured by the very thing I thought would save me.
Now when I graduated from college, I persude my passion in teaching Literature. I became a teacher, and met the love of my life; a girl. But, the thing is, I was never out. And that every unwanted feeling that I’ve been hiding for a decade suddenly surfaced because of her.
We became a couple. It was a secret. A beautiful secret but by the time we were about to celebrate our first year anniversary, things went downhill.
One of my colleagues outed me. She saw our texts, and she outed me to our principal. I didn’t know what to do then. I was called to his office, and gave me an ultimatum. You see, this school is a sectarian school. Grounded by traditional rules. In short, if you’re a girl, who’s into both genders, and has a girlfriend, you out.
I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. And I made the stupidest decision; I boke up with my love. And it was terrible.
All these feelings, I kept them all in the dark til I watched Wynonna Earp. I’ve always cried during that scene where Waverly’s aunt tells here that there surprises that come our way, in what, or who we meet. Right there and there I knew, I was not alone.
In the character of Waves, I felt at home. I realized I wasn’t alone. That what I feel, that fear of being judged, is normal.
My ex is currently happy with her new girlfriend,. And, I am happy for her too.
As for me, I am just happy that I am not alone in this battle.
To be able to fall in love with anyone, regardless of their gender, their social standing, how they look, how they talk.
I guess, the best way to end this confession is by telling everyone that when we love, we love. That’s that.
Love is love. No matter what.
This is me.
I am QUEER af.
And I’m out.
Oh man. It’s been quite a journey. I guess it started around 5th grade or so. I recognized it and actually began to come out to myself, but in true ADHD fashion, managed to push it to the back of my mind and forgot about it for several years. My sexuality popped up later in middle school when relationships began to bloom and I failed to understand my friends’ obsession with boys. Instead I was thinking about them. I kept repressing it’s and was terribly unhappy up until last year, when I entered my first real relationship. She and I met through school and did not even know the other’s name after 7 months of sitting right next to each other. Finally, she bucked up and asked me out. Then I realized I wanted my parents to know her as my girlfriend. So I came out to them via text while across the street from them. They took it very well and it was immediately seen as just another part of me. I wouldn’t have it any other way. By coming out I was able to understand that I don’t want to hide my love for this amazing woman from anyone.
I could, and regularly do, tell the story of coming out as a lesbian in the age of Section 28. I tell it because, mostly, it’s relatable, and it’s got some funny bits, and has very clearly defined parameters that say “This was the moment I was not out; this was the moment I was out.”
I’m not going to do that; instead, I want to tell you about what was, for me, a much tougher journey, one which took a lot longer and a lot more questioning, a journey which is no where close to being finished. I want to tell you about being butch.
It isn’t a popular word, nowadays, even in the LGBTQ+ community. But it’s an identity that helped me verbalise my own gender when I didn’t know how to, and gave me the comfort that I wasn’t the only woman trying to find her way through the world when the trappings of femininity felt increasingly like a cage.
I had always been a tomboy, more interested in climbing trees and getting muddy than in playing dress up and dolls (the barbie dolls my mum bought me spent more time rescuing each other from hideous fairytale monsters than they ever did swooning over Ken). Which is fine, when you’re young. It gets less fine as you get into adolescence, when the expectations of society become more restrictive, and the struggle to fit in, to be normal, comes to the forefront. I was a shy kid, bullied because my family were working class in a middle class neighbourhood, and my parents were catholic and somewhat strict; the thought of standing out any more than that made my stomach churn. So I wore the skirts, rolled shorter at the end of the road so our mothers wouldn’t see, and applied the colourful eye shadows which we’d be marched to wash off after first period, and I felt like I would never be happy again.
Skip forwards 8 years, and I was living away from home for the first time, in a foreign country, with no one to define me but myself. It was an opportunity, not just for learning, but for becoming. I found myself around people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid when I cut my hair short, or tentatively started adding “men’s” clothes to my wardrobe. It gave me freedom to experiment with my name and my pronouns, and start to uncover the layers of my attachment to womanhood that I had long since hidden in shame. I still felt anxious about it; there were still confusions and unkindnesses as a result of my outward appearance, but more clearly than any of those, I remember standing in front of the mirror with my waist length hair shorn for the first time, the strands lying around my feet, and crying because I finally felt like I was looking at myself.
It took another 5 years for me to exclusively start wearing “men’s” clothes, to stop disguising my mannerisms to appeal to the wider society who still demand performance of culturally mandated gender roles. It helped that I had found, online and offline, a community of women like me who enabled me to map out the words I needed to explain this huge part of my identity, and a woman who made me believe I was ‘handsome’ – not ‘pretty’ and certainly not ‘strange’. It took two thirds of my life and that unwavering support to fully accept myself as a woman, a lesbian, and a butch, and I’m still learning.
No, butch isn’t a popular word, nowadays. For the wider world it carries too many of the negative connotations attached to it by the narrow feminism of the 1970’s, but for me, it’s the key descriptor for who I am. I found an affinity with it, and it helped me – is helping me – on my journey as I dig deeper into what that means. It’s true that labels are just words. They’re just words we use to verbalise who we are, and our feelings towards them are based on our own personal experiences as we travel through life, constantly evolving or cementing as we ourselves grow. To the world at large, I’d ask you one thing: be gentle with other people’s labels, and the words they choose or do not choose to give their identity form. Invalidating them is a form of invalidation for the many roads they travelled to find them.
And to the masculine of centre women – the gender nonconforming women – the women getting called out in the ladies’ loos and receiving the side eyes as they pick up their groceries – stay strong. Stand tall. Keep on holding your own. And hold onto your swaggers – we’ve earned it.
Zo, Birmingham UK
My Coming Out was 2 years ago.
I noticed early that I not only liked boys, but also felt drawn to the girls. I quickly put those thoughts aside because I thought I was confused. I was in the middle of puberty.
The thoughts always came out over the years. But I still thought I was confused.
This was until I was 26 years old. Then I met her. She unexpectedly showed me what it means to be loved. She gave me love, security and acceptance. She gave me all of these things without expecting anything in return. She showed me what I wanted. 
WOMEN
My parents had probably suspected this longer. One day I was visiting them and before I could say something they asked me: “when do we get to know her?”
My parents and siblings have no problems with it. They want me to be me. I don’t need to pretend anymore. I live my life. This acceptance and appreciation of my family gives me support and strength for the future. Because I know I can always rely on them …
“Love is love. It doesn’t matter whether you are into a man or a woman. The main thing is that you are loved and accepted. And you feel good. We don’t want more.” This is a statement from my parents.
