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This is a great community! I am 61 and knew from an early age, like 9?, that I was different. I did not have any one or group to guide me thru all the avenues that abounded. I’m surprised really how I have survived. Thank you for giving the Newbies and the closeted some place to find their strength and courage. Rock on!
For as long as I can remember I’ve never been a girly girl. I liked playing with the cars and army men. I loved getting in the dirt and playing contact sports with the boys because it was more fun that way. I justified it as just “being one of the guys” because I grew up with brothers. My mother scolded me when I wouldn’t sit lady like, she tried forcing me into dresses, and always complained my hair was always in a ponytail. I’ve never been the “ideal” girl from the get go.
As a teenager in middle school I found myself drawn to girls. I didn’t care what we did I just wanted to be around them. I was hurt more by rejection from them than I was from the boys. The boys I would threaten and they still would chase after me, but the girls were the ones I wanted to please.
Fast forward to high school, I was on the softball team and the oldest stereotype in the book is if you play softball you are indeed a lesbian. Although I knew I preferred girls I never made the connection that I liked them. I got defensive, I got angry, but all along the people were right about me. Being from a small conservative town in the Midwest it wasn’t something I ever saw though, so I pushed that part of me away and tried to push my feelings down and decided to always have a boyfriend. It was fine at first, but as soon as they wanted more I would break up with them because “I just didn’t feel that way anymore.” It was tough on me and my reputation, but I really didn’t care. I could be cold and distant and not even feel bad because my heart wasn’t in it. I fell for my best friend and it ended up poorly as she didn’t feel the same and was weirded out by me having those feelings. It hurt for a long time and again I turned into the cold, distant person.
College I continued the same behavior, but was successful in suppressing my feelings for a couple years. Until I had time out on my own trying to figure out who I was. Finally when I was away from home I embraced those feelings I had and had my first same sex relationship. I was forced to come out to my mom who cried and was upset but in the end didn’t disown me. The relationship ended badly and it made me rethink my feelings. Was I really into girls? Will all of this happen again if I try to be with a girl? Am I really gay?
It took me a year to find a healthy relationship with a woman, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I have been apart of the LGBTQIA+ family for a very long time, but it took me until I was 21 to finally see it.
Currently I’m 24 (almost 25) and have came out to my family and my friends and have never felt more myself! Wynonna Earp I started watching last year and instantly fell in love with the writing, the actors, and the representation. This show made me see it’s okay to go after what you want and who you want because the real family you have will accept you and love you no matter what. The strength and courage I needed was brought to me by seeing that representation and couldn’t be more grateful for the amazing people who made it happen!
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.
Before I share my ripples and waves that have crashed on and around my coming out, I want to thank those who wrote before me. I am older than many of you, but your journeys inspire me to share a few from my own journey. I had set aside things I struggled with on shelves hoping one day to take them out and shine a light of a different day on them.
First Ripple…Start of my Wave…
My father and I had sat down on the couch to watch TV. The news had been on and there were images from the war raging in a foreign land. I asked him why we were fighting in Vietnam. His expression changed to one of sadness and he looked off into the distance. After a moment he said, “There are some bad people doing bad things to good people over there. We are there to stop the bad people.” He got up and change the channel came back and sat down. He smiled at me and he was my Dad again. A commercial came on the TV for a movie called 1 Million BC staring Raquel Welch. In this ad, she stepped up in a fur bikini and I was stunned, Wow. She was so beautiful! Something clicked in my five-year-old brain and I turned my head to look at my father. He had the same expression as me. Oh, I thought. I’m just like my dad. That was followed up by but ‘I don’t think girls are supposed to be like their dads.’ No, but I was like my dad. I reviewed the evidence. I loved watching Sally Fields in the Flying Nun, Bat Girl, Cat Woman and other women on TV. Okay… I’m like my father and I shelved it to investigate another time.
Dark Tsunami… Cut adrift in a Sea of Darkness
My parents split when I was seven and my mother and I relocated to northern California. Something should be said about this since it had a huge impact on my life. Between my two parents, I saw nine marriages twice to each other. I am my mother’s oldest child and my father’s baby girl; he had three girls in a row then three boys in a row. My mother’s youngest, my baby sister, rounded out the ensemble. (It’s okay; I have trouble with it, too) My childhood to this point was filed with family. When we left, I was in a foreign land… new place, new school and no family. My mother was pregnant with my youngest sister and would be strong at not tell her. I was molested by my stepfather and raped at different times by two men from the age of seven to twelve. I nearly suffocated during two of those incidents; I blacked out. This left me with sporadic claustrophobia. Those were parts of my normal childhood… yes normal. This little tomboy ran around with her friends, played soccer, football and baseball but also had few things on her shelves that she kept tucked away. She was strong, smart, empathetic and could keep a secret. Her friends and family adored her, but her secrets stayed on the shelves; she didn’t trust anyone.
Ripple… Oh, That’s What it’s Called
My early teen years had me staring straight in the face of being attracted to girls and a boy. A family friend who is a year younger than me told me she had a crush on me and kissed me. It felt like something that had been dead inside me was finally awake and I kissed her back. She and her family moved away the next week (better job not because of us). I thought about the items sitting on my hidden shelves. I took the memory of the five-year-old off the shelf. There was a TV show called “Family” that had an episode about the son’s best friend being gay. And as I watched it, I thought, oh, that’s what it’s called. I was Gay. I had a name for it, but it was still too afraid to talk about it. What if I should have been born a boy? Did God make a mistake? What about the boy I like? Those go on the shelves; the five-year-old is good.
Rainbow Wave Crashes Lovingly on My Shore…
In my sophomore year at high school during volleyball tryouts, I met the most stuck up, annoying but pretty girl ever. She had a click of friends and was trying out for the cheerleader squad. She thought I was a stuck up, elite athlete who was really funny at times, but she hadn’t forgiven me for hitting a home run off of her when we were freshmen. One day at volleyball practice, she surprised me. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to a party at one of her friend’s house. Curious, I accepted and from that point on we were inseparable. We did homework, read books, listened to music and somewhere in there, I realized I had fallen in love with her. There was no way I was going to do anything about it. She was Catholic and straight. So, we had sleepovers at each other’s houses and always slept next to each other. It made me crazy. We were staying over at my house in sleeping bags under the pool table. everyone else in the house was asleep and we were talking quietly. We were both on our tummies and elbows. We turned our heads towards each other as we were talking; our eyes locked, and we leaned in and kissed. Wow, what a kiss! She abruptly pulled away mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t…” and got up and went into the bathroom. Shit, I thought, my life is f—-ing over. She’s going to tell people at school… crap… that line of thinking went on for what felt like six years but was actually about a minute. She came back in, crawled into the sleeping bag and while she was saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know…” she kissed me. And for me, game over. I was home. This was who I was. I was head over heels in love with and she with me. Wait. No one can know. My parents would be okay about but her parents, her mother would not. Fine. The love of my life goes on the shelf.
Ripple… You could’ve told me
We were together all through high school and off and on during college. She was an avid note, letter and poem writer; I had notes and letters squirreled away in my backpack till I could safely deposit them in a box down in our basement. My best friend from sixth grade and I were walking home from work one night. We were seniors and it was towards the end of the school year. She punched me hard in the arm and handed me a note with my name on it. I am pretty sure I turned pale. She had snagged it out of someone’s hand before they could read it; they had pulled it from my catcher’s mitt. Bam, another smack on the arm, “You could’ve told me.”
“Ow!” Sheepishly, I asked, “did you read it?”
“No. Didn’t have to. I have eyes and know you… I’ve always known… you’re my best friend and I love ya.” I felt lucky for her friendship but scared for being careless. My girlfriend and I were both certain that her parents found out about the two of us that would be the end of it. On top of that, they had put money away for her college and she was born to be a nurse. I didn’t want her to lose that because of me. No matter how much I loved her. Squirrel it away on the shelves.
Ripple… My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her…
Being in love was beautiful and magical. Discovering sex with her was amazing except for those moments when unwanted memories would slide off the shelf and into our lovemaking. I would wake with a start or worse, shove her off of me not knowing where I was. I fought it to the point I could no longer feel her. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t tell her. Get that shit back on the shelves!
Ripple… Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.
My softball team was celebrating after a big win. I was enjoying an adult for fuzzy beverage with our shortstop out in the backyard. The discussion inside the house was a heated discussion about Sports, lesbians and who was gay on the team. Apparently, my name was added to the list. The shortstop and I came back in and heard our coach say, “She can’t be gay, she’s too pretty.”
Hell, one of our pitchers was drop-dead, model gorgeous and gay. I commented then asked, “That’s ridiculous. Whose too pretty to be gay?”
The room went silent and everyone was staring. The assistant coach said, “Uh, that would be you.”
“What—I’m pretty?” That can’t be right. I’m a tomboy, I’m like my dad. I have a Scarlet L on my forehead. How could I possibly be pretty? “Wait, you outed me? Dude. Not cool.” Great. Is there room to put that one on the shelves? Of course…
Rainbow Wave Ripples to My Shore…. WTF! Outed by my grandmother.
While in college and living with my brothers and dad, I thought it was time to share with my brothers and come out to them. I sat them down and shared that I dated women and I was gay. They stopped me and said, “Oh, we already know; Mimi (code for our dad’s mother) had already told us. She said you were different from most other girls because you liked girls. This was okay because we love you and you are our family and there is nothing wrong with it.”
What?! How did she know? Wow, though, I was moved by the words. Very progressive for someone from her era and the south. I asked her once and she just smiled at me. She said I wasn’t the only gay person in the family and left it at that. Something needs to come off the bloody shelves, but I don’t know what.
Ripple… Finally, I come out to my mother…
Summer break after my first senior year in college, my girlfriend and I were visiting my mother and her new family. We were going to watch a movie together. A few days later I was back over visiting. My mother asked me, “So, are you ever going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Me the clueless one asked.
“You and Mary?”
Oh. “I thought you knew.”
“I have suspected but the other night you took a hold of Mary’s hand and watched the movie holding it.”
Slightly embarrassed, I said, “Oh. I didn’t realize.” paused, “Mom, I’m Gay.”
“Thanks Honey. It’s nice to hear you say it.”
Ripple… Doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart
A year or so after college my girlfriend and I went to visit my parents. They had moved back in together and were engaged to get married; remarried. My mother and I were talking in the kitchen and the conversation went like this:
My mother said shaking her head, “Your dad wants to know when you’re going to get married. I told him the closest thing he’s going to get to a son-in-law from you is Mary.”
“And?”
She answered imitating him, “Aw, not my little girl. She spends a lot of time with Tony…”
Mom as herself, “Honey, they are just friends. Do you know your mother told the boys?”
“What?”
“Our daughter is a lesbian… just like your favorite cousin.”
“She told you?”
“Yes… Honey, she’s happy. Go talk to her.”
“Okay.”
———-
“Hey Dad.” I was doodling Nancy Wilson of Heart in a sketch book.
“Hey, Baby girl, uh, I was wondering if we could talk.”
I closed the sketchbook and waited. Only God knew what this would be about. “Sure.”
“Um, I don’t know how to… what I mean is…”
“Dad, is this about me being Gay?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Okay, I am.”
He sat quietly. I could see something was troubling him.
“Dad?”
He swallowed then asked, “Is it because… because you were… hurt when you were small?”
A bunch of things started slide off the shelves, but I put them back; the five-year-old was sitting next to me. “No, Dad. I’ve known since I was five. That all happened later.”
“How could you know at five?”
“I knew I liked girls like my Dad and that was different than other girls.”
There are so many other things to share but I will stop here and say coming out, dealing with gender identity versus what’s expected culturally, and everything else that life tosses our way is an on-going process, so be in it for the long haul.
I have come to understand a few things in my travels. It is important to have a sense of humor around things and not take ourselves too seriously. Our brains are wonderful things, but their job is to keep us safe; to ensure our survival. It can’t differentiate between real (encountering a bear in the woods) life threatening fear and emotional fear. It treats them the same. There can be so many things thrown at us when we are young and trying to figure who we are and how we fit in. I kept many things tightly bottled-up inside; I was strong and could take it. I wouldn’t burden anyone. I kept up my happy-go-lucky exterior until something happened and it crushed me and cracked my psyche. I was diagnosed with PTSD and the things I tried to suppress seeped into my everyday life. Flashbacks at work; at home in the bedroom. The pain was too much. I couldn’t live with it and it took the intervention of some friends for me to seek help. I got help that made my PTSD manageable. I am happy and comfortable with who I am. If you are struggling at all, check the resources listed at this site. Have faith in yourself… I don’t say this lightly; I say it with a tremendous amount of love and gratitude.
I knew I was attracted to people other than boys when I was around 7/8 years old. It was difficult to understand, but thankfully I have supportive family/friends who accept me for who I am. I first told my older sister and she explained to me that it was ok to love who I wanted to. I slowly came out to my parents and although they worried about the struggles I’d face later on in life, they only want me to be happy. I’ve slowly come out to friends new and old and have been met mostly with open arms. Coming out never really stops, but for me, the fear of rejection has subsided. Now, being 18, I’ve developed feelings for many a person, not limited to any gender. I’m proud to be who I am and wouldn’t change it for the world.
I grew up very clueless about anything lgbtq+, but even then I got lucky enough to have a mother that didn’t push me to be or feel any certain way, so when I was old enough to form my own sense of self I 100% knew-or at least I though I did. From the age of 11 I identified as a lesbian and felt confident in my identity. I had used YouTube and tumblr to find out things on my own and come to a firm sense of “yes this is me.” I told my mother not long after and, she to no surprise, was loving and supportive. I lived, identifying as a lesbian until I was 16, but something never felt right. I began high school at 14, kept most of my childhood friends, and even started a relationship with an amazing girl! But not long after, the discomfort in myself grew and grew until I was so uncomfortable in my own skin that it left me locked in my bedroom. The discomfort had always been there ever since I was a child, but I had always ignored it-so it confused me as to why it was getting unbearable now. I once again turned to YouTube and tumblr for help. I did my own research, and heard people’s stories-they gave a words to put to a feeling. It was a realization of “I feel like that too.” I wasn’t a lesbian, but a man. All of my discomfort and hatred of the thought of looking down in the shower, and fear of going out in public finally had a word, transgender. My girlfriend was the first to know, she loved and supported me. She was patient when there were days when I couldn’t be touched. She helped me test out a few different names. A couple months go by and I come out a second time to my mom. She was again loving as supported (and also not surprised). She bought me my first binder, and she tried(s) her very best to use he/him or gender neutral pronouns. I am now 19 and starting my journey to hormone replacement therapy. I got so lucky to have such a strong support system. My story is a very positive one and I am forever grateful for my mom, my friends, and my girlfriend.
Thank you for reading my story 🙂
Firstly pardon my english, I’m actually brasilian.
We all want answers. When we are kids almost EVERYTHING amazes us, and when we grow up, our questions gets more and more complex and complicated…
But Well… I KNOW Love is not one of them. I felt it before.
When It gets complicated, then it’s not love, cause Love transforms a messy knot into a beautifull colorfull line (like a rainbow haha)
Love is understandingfull. Love is kind. And love is not just a feeling itself… It is a way to see the world, and the lackness of it, in some moments, disconect us from the BEST within us.
If you don’t believe me just remember that everything we make with loving, end up beautifull, colorfull, organized (just look at the sky at night), sweet… like a gentle breeze sliding through every strand of hair…
Love is not only about ourselves, but about others too, cause we can donate from us this beautiful energy. By admiring someone, by giving importance to that person,
by touching and being touched by everything that ever happened to that person.
But also love is NOT the absence of pain! Love is a way of living that allow us to be STRONG when pain comes, and not being complainfull about it…
there is actually a spoiled side of us to think that EVERYTHING is ALWAYS destined to end up well… (and by “well” I meant the way we WANT it to end up) Cause It won’t. Which is good, cause pain help us grow. If pain make you feel more scared, then you’re not loving.
I KNOW everything has a purpose. Nature shows us EVERYTHING has a purpose. Sometimes we just don’t know what for.
I do care about LGBT comunity, cause it is important to talk about LOVE diversity. There is many many ways to get to this sea.
As I discovered those paths I realized few important things… You don’t NEED to change everything you are because you realized something new about yourself, but if you WANT TO, then so be it: Change!
But Change for better! Use comprehension, not hate. Otherwise isn’t it hipocrisy to fight hate and exclusion with hating and exclusion?
Does EVERYTHING has to evolve through pain? Does peace has to arrive through battle wounds? Can’t we just KNOW it by heart?
It doesn’t mean we should trust everyone, It is DUMB. It means we should always hope for the better of someone, as much as we hope for ourselves.
But remember… you are still you! With new improves haha. Don’t you EVER forget who you are. What you truly believe. What you really want. And most importantly don’t you ever forget about love. And if there is no love, then you shouldn’t content yourself with less!
And I guess that’s my flag. I don’t know, but ONE DAY, I’ll be strong enough to make people around me feel like this: powerfull, bold, strong, important, seen and happy.
I am nobody. But a nobody with a lot in my mind, I guess…
Aaaaand that’s how I came out.
i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.
I discovered myself bisexual when I was 11 years old, and I didn’t take long to accept myself but I accept myself is one thing but my mother is another, when I discovered myself I started to stop performing femininity and so I wouldn’t have to assume myself because I think the term is completely wrong but I understand what important it is, Throughout my adolescence it got worse until I was 14 years old when I was seriously dating a girl and my mother saw my cell phone and so she found out and then it was a huge wrong thing and I was thrown out of the house but they forced her to accept me inside the house, well 2 years ago this happened and as much as she says that everything is fine, I know and everyone knows that she hates the fact of my sexuality and treats me with contempt for it.
I haven’t totally assumed myself yet, my family doesn’t accept me so I don’t have any support from anybody at the moment, and the fact that I’m a minor I don’t have many choices of what I really want, my mother found out some time ago that she liked girls, it was a very complicated period, it still is, because she told most of my relatives which none of them supports because they say that religion doesn’t allow it and that this is a sin. I live sincerely on the edge because it is complicated to live in a place that you feel threatened, that has no support and no choice of what to really feel, but we can’t get stuck in this tale that society invented that people of the same sex can’t be happy, that they are wrong and that this is not right. My dream is to be free, to be free from all this and to be able to enjoy every moment beside the one I really love, I hope to be free from all this someday. And I’m fighting, I still haven’t had the happy ending or the ending I want, but I won’t give up until I get it, and you too who go through this don’t give up, fight, be resistant.
I always love deeply. Through my adolescence I loved so hard it hurt. I was truly confused at the difference between what I felt inside and what I saw all around. I even went as far as determining another type of love that I just knew existed to try to explain in a more “acceptable” manner what I was feeling for other people. This was when I was 15 and knew little of other cultures that describe a myriad of types of love. I dated many people of both genders pretty quietly for too many years. Then I met Molly. Our love was so luminous . So able to easily penetrate through all the bullshit that had been and that I had allowed to be built around me. And that was that. We loved each other. We came out to our families and friends. Years later I proposed, we are married and have a beautiful daughter and a son on the way. It is intense how my capacity to love grows exponentially each day. Allowing this love has allowed all the love.
