I am sorry if this isn’t what you are looking for and it may
not be appropriate for this format but this was the only place I felt
comfortable to send this in. This is a small part of my journey and a
part that I found not many people openly discuss including myself but I
feel its a very part of my ongoing journey.
Confidence……Sexual confidence
Some will admit this, some will lie and some just flat out refuse to
talk about it. I annoyingly fall into later category. Sex is important,
sex is a large part of our lives, whether we are not having any, too
much, not enough, average sex or the best sex of lives. The thoughts
about sex are never from far our minds. The real difference is between
those who discuss it and those who don’t, its not the quantity or
quality, its confidence.
Sexual confidence is not always based on how good you are or think you
are its about how feel when you discuss it, if you discuss it at all.
Recently, although not really that recently I have come out and been
working through the many phases of becoming comfortable with my new
found normal and who I am. I am ashamed to admit that although I have
seen many come out before me I never really understood what it meant.
That it changes everything, its like hitting reset when your are already
halfway through the game. Everything about who you are and the lessons
you have learnt and comforts that you have afford yourself are all
thrown away. The toughest part is that unlike when you go through this
crucial stage of life in your teens most people have already completed
these levels and moved on, leaving you behind, constantly both reminding
you of the challenges you have ahead and making you feel intimidated at
the same time.
I have been working through these phases and I haven’t been able to
let someone (the person I trust the most in the world) really help me.
This has bothered me because why can’t Iet her help me? Why do I feel
that I have to do this alone? Why? These were questions I could not
answer and it felt like I was in canoe unable to paddle on both sides,
around and around I go but never progress up stream. It wasn’t until I
was given ‘homework’ from a stranger whom I sought out to help me
find a way to paddle on both sides that I realised why.
The stranger challenged me to have fun with it. To have fun with my
sexuality. Fun! Really?! Sure no worries, I will get right onto
that…..quick question how do I do that?
Everyone loves fun right? We have been doing it since we were kids, the
laughter that comes with fun is one of the first sounds we make as
babies which is associated with a smile. And yet here I am a 28 year old
woman who doesn’t know how to find one of the most fundamental things
in life. I sat and thought about this, I went through my life like a
rolodex flagging the cards that provided me with smiles and laughter.
Fun! I thought about those moments, they included my friends, family and
activities that I was good at. Although they were all different there
was one commonality in all of them. Confidence.
With my friends I was confident in who I was, confident in the people
around me, the people that I had chosen to spend my time with.
Activities I was confident because I was good at was I was doing. I knew
I could do it and had a sense of achievement, accomplishment and value
in that field.
Family I was confident with them, they have known me for my entire life
and in the kids case for their entire lives. Family is a little
different because my confidence ebbs and flows with them, sometimes in
rare fleeting moments I am at complete ease and find myself smiling just
because and in other moments I find myself withdrawing. Withdrawing
because I sense unease with who I am and what I stand for. As is the
case in most families although we are the same we are very different and
this can be attributed to our life choices and paths we have taken. In
my family I am alone, I am alone in many ways. My career, my sports, my
friends, my locality, my relationship status and…… my sexual
orientation.
I grew up in a family that replaced hugs and emotional support with
sarcasm and sport. I felt this worked until I discovered I was
different. Until I worked out that the sarcasm and sport left with me
void and sense of loneliness. I sought comfort in tried to fill that
void with the other parts of my life that gave me fun; activities and
friends.
I moved through my teens and into my early 20’s slowly finding my own
path and in doing so I realised that there was people out there who
provided love and support to each other. One problem, I didn’t know
how to accept or reciprocate it. I did what I knew, I stuck with my
sarcasm (which I am rather accomplished at) and developed a somewhat
charming manner (modest I know) that made people feel comfortable around
me. They were free of judgement and could have a laugh. I built their
confidence but in doing so I neglected mine. We would discuss their
work, their friendships, their relationships and in turn their sex
lives. I was and still am happy to discuss it all with them and even
their sex lives but only if they didn’t discuss mine.
WHY?
I enjoy it, I have never had any complaints about it so I must be ok at
it so why can’t I talk about it? I get physically uncomfortable and
tense up. And now, I cant even have any fun with it. If I indulge myself
there is an seem secrecy required and at times bordering on shame.
That strangers home work continued circle around and around in my brain
like that bloody canoe.
Then it hit me, confidence, whether it be sexual or otherwise stems from
conversation. A sense of comfort and support to have those
conversations. Unsurprisingly in a family based on sarcasm and sport
open conversations were made in jest not to mention they were few and
far between. When they did happen it was uncomfortable and glazed over
as soon as humanly possible. I never had discussions around
relationships with my siblings let alone conversations about sex. We
would sit around the dinner table a joke would be made that would from
time to time turn sexual in its nature, we would each jump on it,
stacking on each others previous one liner, Dad would just look down and
continue eating, Mum with shake her head attempting to stifle a giggle
and tell us all to stop.
The was it.
No more discussion, nothing to normalise it not even between siblings. I
remember when I was dating a guy and I got the implant contraceptive
rod, it was the same time as my sister in laws hens day. My entire
family had come together and my second eldest brother saw the bandage
that was wrapped around my left bicep. He straight up questioned me in
front of everyone; other siblings, in-laws and parents about why I
needed it. I got uncomfortable, made a quick retort and withdrew to the
corner of the room as my brother made jokes about having never met this
guy and reference his skills with a cricket bat. But don’t worry it
was over quickly as the footy was on Tv. I am pretty certain that is the
only time any of my relationships have been discussed.
Over the years I developed a core group of friends where we would have
numerous wide ranging conversations that developed a comfort and support
system for me. As that friendship circle tightened we all assumed our
various roles and they worked out what I could and could not discuss.
They wouldn’t push unless the perfect storm struck were we were drunk
and they honestly worried about me. Their questions came from a place of
love and support and I was finally able to start to have these
conversations and built the associated confidence. I felt like I was
building a level of confidence that I was happy with but then things
changed.
With increased confidence came an increased sense of self. It was then
that disaster struck, I knew I was different. Different from my family
and friends. All of a sudden that confidence was gone, I was back to
square one.
This sense of disconnection from my family and friends left me feeling
like a lone wolf, fighting through the paralysing self doubt, fear and
unknown. Not knowing if it would ever stop, the sense of trying to
survive the arrows bombarding me from all directions because there was
no shelter in sight. And just spice things up a ‘fun’ side affect of
rewriting of who you are is anxiety because everything had be
reconfigured and required conversations that had previously never been
considered.
Square one has forced me to look inwards and have some honest and
uncomfortable conversations with myself about my inadequacies and my
strengths. Through this I have identified different areas of my life and
the associated challenges. I had broken them down into bite sized pieces
and slowly consumed them. Now I am back to the same issue that plagued
me in my 20’s. Sexual confidence. The only difference now is that my
family don’t even know how to make the jokes about it but in fairness
I haven’t changed in the fact that i still can’t have the
conversation, even in jest.
Request of fun can only be fulfilled once I have sexual confidence to
enjoy it again. I have identified why I have this deficient in my
personality. I am trying to re-program my brain that sex and
relationships are not a taboo topic and that is something everyone does,
thinks and fantasises about including me. Relationships and sex are
meant to be fun.
Now, how do move out my own insecurities long enough to enjoy it? To
find fun?
The answer…….
CONVERSATIONS, so here we go.
Hi my name is Belen and I struggled with finding my sexuality and who i was all throughout middle school and the beginning of high school. I am 16 years old and i came out to my mom at 15 on November 11th 2019 and then came out to my dad in February of 2020. It took me a while to come to terms with me liking girls and hated myself for a while because of it. It was a big struggle that i had to overcome and i am very proud of myself for finally being able to be my true self and be proud of who i am and how far i have come.
I didn’t come out until 2015 at 25 years old. I definitely questioned my sexuality starting in high school, and at times throughout my late teens/early 20s, but due to the environment I had grown up in (a small closed-minded, country community) I always pushed it away or tried to think of an “excuse” as to why I was always drawn towards women. I was raised in a family that was Mormon on my mom’s side.. My parents divorced when I was very young, and living with my mom, I was essentially made to follow the Mormon faith as a young child/teen. I was very, what people called, “tomyboy-ish” as a kid. I hated wearing girl’s clothing and dresses. I enjoyed wearing baggy jeans and t-shirts throughout most of my school years. This caused me to never even have any “boyfriends” as I wasn’t “attractive” to them. I had friends who would try and “change” me, and dress me up and want to give me make overs, but nothing stuck. Things changed drastically for me when I discovered the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer in middle school. My style began to change to become more “feminine” as I wanted to dress more like the characters in the show. At this point, I had friends who wanted me to date guys and I was constantly asked if I had a crush on any boys at school. I never did, though at times would say so just to shut people up. As I got farther into Buffy and witnessed the relationship between Willow and Tara develop, it opened my eyes to the fact that there was more then boys and girls as couples. I didn’t have any education on gay relationships before this, and when I started asking questions was told that it was a “sin” and that god made “Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve”. My freshman year, I actually had a crush on one of the girls in my grade, and tried to befriend her, as she was one of the nicer people in my class. I was crushed when I found out that she had started telling people that I was weird. (To be honest, I was in a new school, and I wore my long “Buffy” black leather jacket all the time, so maybe I was?) Regardless, it shut me down so hard and I was internally embarrassed with myself for even thinking I could like her like that. Aside from this, I had always been a movie buff growing up. However, I had always been drawn to the women in films. I never cared about the guys. I guess the easiest way to explain it was that when my friends and I would watch movies and shows whilst they were cheering for the girl to “kiss the guy”, I was always cheering more for “kiss the girl”. Looking back now, I had huge crushes on Nicole Kidman, Vivien Leigh, Renee Zellweger, etc. Back then though, I was scared to think of it in those terms so I always just told people I “admired” them (which I did too) when they asked why I was so obsessed. (I mean, I literally convinced my Mormon grandfather to get me a custom pastel drawing of Nicole Kidman from Moulin Rouge for Christmas one year, and he didn’t question ANYTHING about that?!). Anyway, watching Willow and Tara’s relationship on the show, made me continue to question whether I was gay myself. I would mention that they were my favorite characters and relationship on the show to family members at times, but no one ever asked me to elaborate or said anything. Eventually, I suppressed that part of me for several more years. I tried going on dates with a couple of boys in college, but never felt comfortable. I eventually resigned myself to be “forever alone” as I was scared to question my sexuality any more, but also didn’t want to date any boys. Fast forward to 2014- in the small county where I lived, all of my friends were now dating other people, moving in together, and getting engaged. I became severely depressed as I was tired of feeling so alone. One of the things I always turned to when I was depressed would be Buffy. I started re-watching the show in mid 2014, and as I, again, saw the relationship between Willow and Tara unfold, it became clear to me that I was gay. I still struggled to say it out loud. I was too afraid to do so. In my head I felt like the second I said it aloud I wouldn’t be able to hide it, and then my family would know, and my dad (who I was certain was homophobic) and my mom who didn’t agree with the lifestyle would disown me or my mom would kick me out. Finally in the fall of 2014, I said it out loud to myself in my room one night. I remember having just watched the episode “New Moon Rising” of Buffy where Willow chooses to pursue her feelings and relationship with Tara. It felt so good to say out loud to myself, but I didn’t feel safe telling anyone else, not even my best friend. I realized that I wasn’t in an environment where I felt comfortable doing so. Luckily, in the beginning of 2015, I had a friend reach out to me that I had made during my brief stint on the Disney College Program, and say that she needed another roommate in Florida. I had been looking to go back and work for the company, and also desperate to get out of Virginia and the environment I had been surrounded by. Right before I moved down, I had a phone call with my younger sister on the phone one night. I said the words, and came out to her. It was terrifying at the time, and I asked her to not say anything to anyone else. She was super supportive and chill about it, which I had kind of figured for her, but it was still scary. Moving back down to Florida right after was the best decision I could have ever made. I came out to my 2 roommates that were also some of my best friends, and as they shared more values like mine, they were also super supportive and nonchalant about it. I remember my roommate Josh saying in the car the day I told him, “Okay cool”, and that was it. And it was SO nice not having to give an explanation or answer question after question. After coming out to them, I didn’t feel like I was constantly hiding myself anymore, and since I was new to Florida again, I didn’t have to pretend. I could just be my normal self. Of course I didn’t go around yelling it out at people, but I didn’t hide or feel uncomfortable when people would ask about my sexuality. It was freeing. That fall I went back home and came out to all of my friends back in Virginia. Same as before with my sister and roommates, they were so supportive. The only people I had yet to tell were my parents. A year later in 2016 I took a trip back to Virginia again, this time with the plan to tell my parents and step-parents. During the trip my mom had made several comments throughout the week that made me feel like I couldn’t tell her. I chickened out and didn’t say anything. My time with my dad and stepmom was different, but I was not sure how to approach the subject. I ended up not having to, as the day I was supposed to fly back, my stepmom looked at me and flat out asked “are you gay?”. I took this as my chance, and just said “yep”. She asked a few more questions, told me she loved me, and suggested that I should tell my dad later on the way to the airport. I didn’t really get that chance, because I guess she told him first. As we sat in the car and I tried to find a way to bring it up, my dad said, “I hear you have something you want to tell me”. I was very confused and slightly annoyed, but said that I did, and asked what my stepmom had told him. He said that she had clued him in a bit, and that he loved me. I didn’t know what to say at that point. I guess I really didn’t get to come out to him, because he must’ve pieced it together from what he had been told. At that point, I let it go and didn’t worry about it. We’ve still never had a full conversation about me being gay, but I think that’s just the way my dad and I work. The following spring, my sister called me and said “can you please tell mom? she’s been asking me lots of questions and won’t let it go.” I figured over the phone was better than waiting until I saw her again, so I called her up the next day, and had a regular conversation with her. At the end though, I told her that I was going to answer a question that she had been prodding my sister about. I told her I was gay, and her first response was “when did you decide that?”. This prompted a very frustrating and emotionally fueled call that ended well for the most part. I don’t know how much my mom’s opinion has changed regarding LGBTQ+ rights, as I’m honestly afraid to ask her. These days she asks about my dating life and such, so it feels like she’s understanding and making an effort to understand and be a better ally. It is SO nice to be able to travel home, and not feel like I have to hide anything from any of them or pretend to be someone different, and to be able to crack jokes, and talk openly. I realize that I am very lucky when it comes to how my family reacted to my coming out, even though I expected the worst. I hope that one day, any and everyone who might still be hiding a part of themselves, feels that freedom and weight lifted. I also hope that one day we won’t have to “come out”, and that we can just love who we want without it being called into question.
Trigger warnings: physical and emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts.
The sovereignty I inadvertently created for myself that held me back for so long.
If you’ll catch this tumultuous wave with me, we’ll ride this journey of love, growth, and happiness together.
Note: All humans are extraordinarily amazing and your sexuality is valid. This is simply my story, my experiences/preferences, and my growth.
Growing up in a Roman Catholic household had me seeing church twice a week due to the private school I attended. Button up shirts, plaid skirts, and rosaries in hand. I knew nothing of the LGBTQ+ community nor did I think it was possible to love someone of the same gender.
It wasn’t until I went to a public high school where everything changed for me. I remember this so vividly: I was sitting in the quad with friends and across the way, I saw two beautiful women being intimate with each other. I asked my friends what they were doing and they looked at me so sympathetically. “They’re together,” my friends said.
And that sparked a fire within me; I felt like I might be…different. Back then, there was hardly any positive representation of queer relationships in the media. So I grabbed at anything I could find. I couldn’t turn to my parents because they wanted a “happy life” for me which meant a husband, a career, and kids birthed from me and my future male spouse.
I struggled for the next 4 years. And though I made friends in the LGBTQ+ community, I still felt I couldn’t have the same love they had because ingrained within me (through religion and my parents) was that a happy life was with a man.
I had a boyfriend. It was the worst.
I had a girlfriend. It was the best.
That was when I knew. I was lesbian. I couldn’t fight it, as much as I tried to for the next 8 years.
Then I was outted.
The part of me I was still figuring out was unwillingly thrust into the hands of my parents. They were heartbroken. They didn’t know how to handle the news because they were like me: they didn’t know anything either. They didn’t understand that I was still their daughter, a human being capable of so many things in life. Except, maybe love. At least, that’s what it felt like. My mom would come to my room every night since the news and ask me if I was going to marry a man, if this was a phase. My dad stopped talking to me altogether.
So I ran away at 18. Still a baby. Still figuring out who she is.
It was hard to leave everything that I had ever known — a family who loved and cared for me despite their own struggles. I was grateful but I couldn’t watch the pain flash across my mom’s heart and the disappointment surface on my dad’s face. So I left.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time. It was a struggle. I was fresh out of high school and still going to college. We couch-surfed for awhile. We were completely homeless for a couple weeks until we had enough money to get a place of our own.
Just when I started to feel comfortable, things actually turned for the worst.
After moving out, my uncle met with me and proceeded to tell me I was the “devil’s spawn and I would never be granted access into heaven” in front of a Coffee Bean. I haven’t been to a Coffee Bean since then. And then, all my close friends moved away from my hometown.
I lost my family, lost direct contact with my friends, gave up on the faith I had grown up with my whole life, and was still figuring out if being a lesbian was even okay.
Then she hit me.
In her drunken stupor her mind would cloud. Her hands would meet my face in fists instead of the gentle, soft palms I once knew. Her nails scratched at my cheeks and the back of my throat instead of down my spine in ecstasy. Her legs met my stomach instead of intertwining them with my own. Her fingers pulled at my hair instead of softly running them through tangles. Her body propelled into mine to push me onto the pavement, into the bathtub, onto the floor instead of embracing me with warmth. Her eyes, wild with rage instead of the love I once saw.
I thought about just giving up. I felt as if I had no one to turn to, no one to help me out. I tried twice, she caught me every time and wouldn’t let me escape. Unknowingly, I’m grateful she didn’t let me because I wouldn’t be who I am today.
But I didn’t know any better when I was with her. I didn’t know that this wasn’t the love I deserved. She was the only love I knew at the time. She accepted me when no one else did. So I stayed but I can still feel the remnants of her every action.
It took me two years to finally have the courage to leave; to finally realize that this wasn’t right. Luckily, my parents came around and they accepted me back into their home with open arms. It was still a struggle with them but it was also two years too late. The damage was done.
I was 21 when I met my next girlfriend. And she was amazing, completely opposite of HER. Because she was there for me when my wonderful grandfather passed away. She was there for me, period.
Or so I thought.
See, abuse can take many forms and all I had ever known was the physical manifestation of it. I didn’t see that it could take a mental and emotional form as well.
Within the 3 years that I was in this relationship, I continued to lose my way. I was limited in how I acted, in what I could take interest in and in my hobbies.
Book-binding was a “waste of time.”
Hanging out with family and friends couldn’t be done “without me.”
Following and shipping new queer relationships in the media was “weird and you should stop.”
And I stopped. I wanted to keep this love because it wasn’t physically negative.
So I changed myself once again.
Unaware, I built my own sovereignty. A force within myself to govern my actions, words, my own identity. It grew and grew until I couldn’t control it anymore.
When I was accepted into nursing school at 24, she raged at me. Jealous of my successes and treated me like a verbal punching bag instead of a human being. We broke up. I was torn. Less than a month later, I found out she was cheating on me. She was too scared to break my heart to tell me there was someone else and instead used my own success against me, making me feel like getting into nursing school wasn’t a feat of its own.
I was 25 when I realized: I deserve a wholesome and pure love. When I knew that the sovereignty I built needed to be dismantled. But it had to start somewhere.
So I started with myself.
I began to finally accept that being lesbian was just as valid as being straight.
It helped when more positive LGBTQ+ relationships surfaced in the media. It helped when my mom told me that she wanted to come to Pride with me wearing a “I’m proud of my gay daughter” shirt and when she said I could “always visit them with my wife.” It helped when I got my family back. It helped when I got my best friends back. It helped when I opened up about my journey to my clinical group and finally admitted to my mom the abuse I went through.
It helped when I discovered a community capable of unconditional love and acceptance.
I’m 26 now and I’m still growing. I’ve come to realize every feeling is valid, every human is valid. Everyone is capable and deserving of an entirely pure and healthy love. I chose to fight against everything I experienced.
I choose myself. I choose love.
Ea: a Hawaiian phrase meaning a sovereignty where no one, absolutely no one can hold you back.
(inhale, exhale)
I am a lesbian.
I am a human being.
I am here and I stay;
I’ve always knew I was not like other girls when I was little. Never really got into barbie dolls and all the girly things. I always liked what they boys liked. It wasn’t until high school that I realized that I liked girls and it really threw me off. At that time is when Prop 8 was getting introduced and people were fighting for their right to marry their partners. Something about seeing that and being devastated because that’s how I felt. One day I want to be married and have kids but people saw someone marrying someone of the same sex wrong, so I suppressed who I was. Then 2016 came along and I was really fighting my demons on who I was and who I loved. I looked myself in the mirror and finally came to terms that I love women and that I’m normal and like everyone else. I told my siblings and they support me 100%. I haven’t told my parents and probably never will but it is what it is. I don’t need that negativity from them. My name is Jenell and I’m proud to say that I’m a lesbian and I love women 
#OutIsTheNewIn
I am bisexual but when I came out of the closet with my parents they didn’t accept it so I had to tell them to “change” but luckily I have people who love me and who support me no matter who I am and encourage me to never stop being who I am.
I realised around the age of 17 I was attracted to women. I’d always had guy friends, but never felt a physical attraction towards them like my friends had. Little did I know at the time my nickname at school Lizzy the Lezzy, after that popular Facebook page would soon be realistic. I guess gaydar really is a thing. Moving from school into college I was suddenly in a world of, “it’s okay not to be straight” and this is where I met my first girlfriend. It’s now 4 years later and although I am still learning daily about myself it’s a bloody great feeling to be out and proud. And for those that may not be in a situation to come out at the moment, or are still questioning themselves the best advice I can give is take your time and love your own skin! Self discovery is a journey, your own journey! The community has lived in darkness for too long, now it’s our turn to shine.
when i was 12 i had a crush on a girl. after a year she tells me she liked a boy. it devastate me, so for the next 6 years i lived a lie. i even married a man, had two kids, then after years & years of trying i told him about it. he said that i can find someone to try if i like it. i did find a girl & so we got a divorce. after 12 years, my girl & i broke up, but alls good. after 24 years of being in relationships i finally am having fun dating women, i have had girlfriends but nothing lasting. my sister knew about me so that was great but telling my mom was hard, i did. she is still trying to accept it but all is good. most all my family is ok with it &the ones that are not can suck it. my daughters were 9 & 10 when i told them, it was a struggle but after 6 months they loved my girlfriend. 5 grandkids later i’m living my best life, my oldest grandkids are ok with it also. so that’s my story. love is love so be your true self. thanks for reading.
