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Last year when I watched Wynonna and ever since then I have watched girls and wanted them as muck as I wanted boys but I not out yet as I am still in school and scared of what people think as my friend is out and gets a lot of hate and I am scared
I think I have always known, but when from a small town with little diversity, you push the feelings aside until you are generally faced with an opportunity to understand more. Much like the founder, I have an appreciation for males and females but my soulmate and best friend happened to be female which all of a sudden made life a bit more challenging and amazing at the same time. I had to deal with an ex-husband, my daughter and family. Was not easy but after nearly 20 years, raising my daughter, having a son together and finding myself, I could not be happier. I am finally comfortable with who I am and always willing to help others do the same.
I’ve never admitted it before, ever, to anyone… I’ve spent 15 years feeling like there is something wrong with me! I am brand new to this world and to earpers and I’m blown away by the community feel. I was introduced just a few weeks ago after reading Dom’s birthday post and after reading it I related so much. I was so inspired by her words. I related to the feelings of suppression and putting the part of me I knew to be true to the back of my mind to pretend it didn’t exist. The part of me that I know is also attracted to woman. I’ve got that feeling where my tummy is doing flips by even just typing it. Because I’ve never faced it until now.
I’ve been in heterosexual relationships my whole life and have been in my current relationship for the last 10 years. I have young children who are my everything. This is part of the question that runs through my mind, how can I be in a long term relationship with a man, be a mum and still know that I do have an attraction to woman too? Does it make me a bad person? Or a bad mum? My partner would also likely feel betrayed that I never talked about this. I don’t even know how he would feel about it. There are so many scenarios in my head.
I’m still not ready to verbalise what I am but at least I have finally admitted it to myself. Maybe over time, meeting the right people and continuing to be inspired within the STW community I will one day be at my bravest. But for now, all I know is that Dom sparked something within me to be true to myself. I’m a thirty year old bisexual.
I always knew I was a little different. I was the off athlete, the friend left out, the person who could always make everyone else laugh and happy however it was the biggest mission to get me to laugh, enjoy what I was doing. I found an environment at work where I just become friends with people because I felt alright to be around. Than one year, one day, one person came and joined our work. Straight away we were the same!, same interests, same think a like, same almost everything, It was just someone I felt it was not hard to talk to. We instantly became friends time passed and we were best friends but little things started to change. I’d want to tell her everything, I wanted her oppion, we couldn’t not talk to each everyday, I wanted to be around her. Small part of the good thing we had developed started to explode from types of family matters. But we chose to stick around for each other. This lead to a moment that I can never forgot. This girl kissed me, she’s kissed me. And from than on we’ve had family issues on her side, But my families accepted us together and she is part of my family. But we always stick together. we have had each other for almost 4ish year. Been Together for 2years. But it’s made me realise when you find 1 person who your able to be vulnerable, happy, sad, angry, loved, in 1 person than it doesn’t matter what’s stated on a birth certificate what matters is what they are to you. So at the age of 21 – I am out.
I would like to start with a line from a song I love:
Siamo destini
We are destinies
Siamo sempre noi
we are always us
Ma più vicini
but closer
the singer is “Zucchero” the song is “blu”
At the age of 30 I understood that destiny exists, but I also understood that I have to help destiny to come true.
At the age of 30 I realized that I still have to understand what happiness can really give me.
I grew up in a good Italian family, I never lacked love … but they always told me I was a certain way because I had to be perfect in society.
They never asked me what I wanted …. and my fault was never saying what I really wanted.
5 years ago I left my city, moving to Milan for work and this gave me the opportunity to understand
something more about myself.
I was supposed to marry a guy my family loved … but I couldn’t suppress the voice inside me that leads me to love women … and I had the courage to cancel the marriage … I started asking myself what I wanted.
But I do not deny that I am afraid of people’s judgment, fear stops me, fear makes me wear a mask every day, fear confuses me.
For society I am still the girl from a good family, with a good job and a good mental stability but they don’t know that inside I have a volcano of feelings that fight each other.
Last Sunday at a fair in the city, there was a fortune teller in a booth, I was walking and she came to meet me, she looked me in the eyes and told me that inside I suffer but I also have a lot of light to give … it’s was the first stranger to understand this.
In the sea of my life there are still no real waves but the sea is no longer calm.
I just need to have more courage.
It took me a long time to realize I was gay. I came out to my sisters 4 years ago on March 22nd. I was so nervous! But I couldn’t deny I was a lesbian anymore after I was thinking of Alexandra Daddario the way I was. I realize that finding men attractive didn’t mean I wasn’t gay it just meant I had eyes. Coming out later on is so strange because tv makes it seem like you should have things figured out in middle school, but it’s different for everyone. And I’m glad I can be myself.
My story starts very similar to Dominique’s. I know now that I always knew I was into girls as well as boys, but it took me 26 years and falling head over heals in love to accept that. Growing up I didn’t have anyone in my life that identified as anything other than straight and my passion for escaping life through tv, movies, and books, there was never any other representation other than straight. As I grew into my womanhood, I have fond memories of my mom and sister asking me if I was gay and telling me that it didn’t matter, they just want me to be happy. I was lucky in that aspect, but I couldn’t accept that it was okay and continuously fought them on this claiming I liked BOYS. I was scared. One day my mom and I were watching our favorite day-time soap show All My Children and a beloved character on the show came out as a Lesbian, my mom hoped that this was inspire me to come out as well, but all I remember is how terrified the character was and how people started to treat her differently. Added to that, gay people weren’t treated nicely where I lived. In high school I can vividly remember the girls who came out and how horrible they were treated by fellow classmates. In college, I lost my dad to cancer and dived head first into being a role model on campus and making a positive change, but the one organization that worried me was the LGBTQ+ because by this time I was so worried that they would be able to see a part of me that I had buried deep inside of me. I liked guys and that was that (even though I had yet to have an actual relationship with one).
As life went on there was always a nagging voice in my head asking what if, but by this time it surely must be too late to come out and now that I worked with students full time, what would that mean for my career? Would I stop getting jobs because I may like girls? Nope, gotta be straight, there will be a guy one day that I will fall in love with.
Then it happened… that moment that I was scared would one day come. I met her. I had just started a new job where I would be living onsite with 14 other educators teaching outdoor education and on the first day of moving into my new house, a group of girls walked into my room and asked if I wanted to go grocery shopping with them. I remember the first time I looked at her and felt the butterflies.
She was going with them and I was going to get to know her. She would become my best friend, I would make sure of that. As our friendship grew (it felt like finding my other half) we both quickly became to realize that there was more to what was between us than just friendship. I started fighting that, it wasn’t right, I am straight. For 4 months I fought my feelings for her until 1 night I couldn’t fight it any longer and we shared our first kiss. It was like FIREWORKS going off. Honestly the most passionate kiss of my life.
We navigated life for the next 6 months as life threw everything against us. For starters, my new partner wasn’t keen on being out of the closet (understandably so), my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and just a mere 8 months into our relationship, my girlfriend (which omg how exciting to say that!) had to return back to the UK due to her visa. Needless to say we didn’t last as a couple, though our love for one another has never died and we continue to be very close friends. My life also sent me from the USA to Australia unexpectedly and with a breaking heart, I left my mom with promise to return, but she had other plans and passed the day after I arrived in Australia. She accepted me for everything I am and told me to go be free for once. If only for that, I could never thank her enough, but she was also just an incredibly, loving and amazing woman for whom I was blessed to be raised by.
In Australia I knew no one my age, and lived in an area of Sydney predominately non English speaking, so I looked online for a way to meet people and I discovered The Sydney Gay Girls on meetup.com. What would it feel like to just be gay??? To meet people who automatically saw me as a lesbian and didn’t care?? For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel judged. I went to my first meetup with 6 other girls and felt like I was finally living as my true self. I quickly started hosting meetups with a friend and now 8 years after coming out (spending the first 2 years still in the closet), I am getting ready to marry the most amazing, beautiful woman and continuing to spend the rest of my life living true to myself.
I share my story because I was afraid when growing up what society might think of me. I only had Xena as a model and as amazing as she was, even her show was afraid to fulfil that last confirmation. Today there are more and more representation of the LGTBQ+ in culture (thank you Dom for being a HUGE part of that), and I hope that the more stories there are and more acceptance, that one day people wont even question who you love and how you identify, it’ll just be normal being you.
The world is a beautiful place filled with beautiful people.
Sometimes we just need a little storm to let the rainbows shine brightest.
Come out and shine with me <3
#OutIsTheNewIn
I’ve always liked science and reading about anything and everything I could. I grew up as a very curious kid, and was mix of sporty and bookworm. I loved structure and the sense of control that sports gave me. But what I was never able to achieve was to be feminine enough to be seen as a traditional girl and of course I was not a boy either. I was once again a dycotomy, and that mix in my gender expression translated for over fifteen years in being a loner. I love learning and as much as reading about society and history makes me passionate, I came to recognize that I had been avoiding knowing about myself, my truth self. For years I tried to model my behaviour and looks to fit into some image others had created of me and I was so thirsty to fullfill, specially what I thought my parents wanted me to be. I admit now that I was scared of the knowledge that was already deep inside me: I liked girls. The simple thought of it felt to me like I was flirting with something that was out of my reach. I tried to numb it during my teen age years until I relapsed into an episode of severe depression. Now I wonder how many years of deep sadness I could have avoided if I had listened to myself instead of letting the outside noise damp my own voice. I have always known I am gay. Proof of that is how many times I had crushes with female superheroes (Hallee Berry as Storm in XMen was maybe my first) and how many times I craved to be more similar to certain strong female figures (like Ronda Rousy). The knowledge was always there, waiting for me to open that chapter of my own life. My self-acceptance felt like washing my worries away while getting soaked in pouring rain: cleansing and comforting. Then came my very first real relationship with some girl I met in college that quickly morphed into a psychologically violent relationship. It still stings to think of myself as an intimate partner violence survivor as well as a sexual assault survivor. I failed to protect myself because I focused on filling an image that wasn’t my own. Now as I work as a therapist and have made peace with my past I wonder, how many other queer kids like me are in a greater danger to be hurt because they feel the need to hide? How many adults grow up as broken humans because they get denied the chance to shine in their own light? I mourn for the queer kid I was. For that little girl who loved sports and to dress like a boy, who loved climbing trees and wanted more than anything to be able to be the red Power Ranger instead of the pink one. I mourn for all the queer kids like me who are still waiting to shine. If one of you is reading this I can tell you, it gets better, you are loved and wanted just as you are. I finally made peace, I am in a relationship sith a wonderful woman who showed me her acceptance and love to my truth self when she looked for sciencey facts that she knew would make me happy to know. Now in my ribs shines my tattoo with the first fun fact she looked for me: Sunsets on Mars are blue.
I am not longer afraid of knowing myself completely: I am a therapist, still love science, I love sports, I still dress a lot of times more masculine. I am a gay woman and proud. I am loved. I am valid. I am wanted. I belong.
So if you are still seeking, still waiting, if you feel alone I tell you this: I got your back, always, I am your family now. You are wanted, you are loved, please keep shining with your own light.
I came out as bisexual when I was 12 because my knowledge of things like pansexuality was really limited. It wasnt till I was 13 that I realized I was pan. I knew that I would be accepted by my family but I was still scared. Like, once I told everyone it would be a reality. I knew I liked girls when I would look more at girls in movies and I would desperately try to find a boy to tell my friends I liked. I fell in love with my best friend which is such a trope but moving on, it was watching TV shows that I really found my home (if that makes sense). It was watching shows like Glee, Wynonna Earp, and One Day at a Time that I found my confidence. I think the hardest part of it all was learning to accept myself and dealing with hiding a part of myself. Now I’m 15 though, I spend time working on ways to make other people feel accepted and safe. I think the main thing that is really helped me is seeing lgbtq+ people on TV and normalizing it.
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
