I need to start by saying that my story is a cliché, I usually refer to it that way. But I think the good thing about clichés is that they reach people with a lot of truth, because it’s also the story of a lot of people. So come on.
I am the daughter of separated parents and grew up in a poor community in northeastern Brazil. My parents split up when I was months old and my mother ended up raising me without my father’s help. I lived until my adolescence at my maternal grandmother’s house together with my mother and an uncle. And after that my mother had a partner with whom we went to live for a few years.
It started when I started walking. My mom says that when I started taking my first steps I started going to church. At less than two years old I started going to church. I just went in there and sat down, nobody took me. Even my mother, my grandmother and my uncle I lived with, nobody went to church and in fact they didn’t even like it very much. As it is very hot here most of the year, I would leave the house wearing panties and flip-flops and enter the church at any time, all that was needed was for the door to be open.
The first person I attracted me romantically was my Bible school teacher, I must have been about 8 years old. I didn’t know what I called that feeling, I just know that I wanted to be close to her, touch her, watch her and try to somehow look like her or imitate her in some things. In parallel, I was absorbing and learning about sin, guilt and hell. As I grew up, both things became part of me, and as a teenager I had my affective experiences, both with boys and girls. And then at that time I stopped attending church.
From there, I started to get interested and research about possible theories and explanations to understand this concept so complex that it is sexuality. I consumed materials from both psychological science, biology and the animal kingdom as well as theories of the Christian segment. Despite feeling trapped and suffocated in that search, I really believed in God and wanted to find positive answers in all of that.
When I turned 18 I went back to church, got baptized and tried my best to get close to God. I started to be part of that community. I joined the music and communication group, made myself available to help with various activities, dedicated a part of my salary to deliver to the church every month and help with other campaigns. Sometimes I arrived before the doorman and left with him. I read the Bible a lot, the most complex and contradictory texts, I searched for the original language to understand the most accurate possible translation, I bought several study bibles and biblical dictionaries, I read books and everything else you can imagine.
In parallel to that, at the age of 20 I entered the faculty of Psychology, and then I thought: now I will learn and discover many things about the human being, his interactions and his behavior. So I will seek to study and learn about God in the same way, in an attempt to balance things out.
But, before talking about everything I lived and learned in college, I need to talk about my faith. I really believed in God. I really enjoyed being part of the church and belonging to a community. I learned many good things there and many of the things I learned with faith helped me to become what I am today and of whom I am very proud. A lot of that universe is really part of me. I met people that I can say that made a lot of difference in my life and helped me when I had several problems and difficulties, and who are by my side today.
Despite these things that I see as positive, there were so many others that hurt me too much. There were so many jokes, comments … I saw people being removed and expelled from their activities and positions in the church because of their sexuality. People who had to undergo various rituals and procedures of deprivation of so many things so that they could participate again. I was really reflective on how this topic was always prominent in the church. I heard several messages about it, so many damn jokes that even today I can clearly hear the pastor’s voice in my head with so much irony. It hurt, it really hurt.
I started to think about these parallel universes that may exist, like the one in the church, that managed to make me feel small and insignificant, because it seemed that I couldn’t be part of it, even though it seemed to be a very big place, it didn’t have a little space for me. Maybe this sounds familiar. This environment, ideas can even look like something very sophisticated and sometimes I thought that there was only this universe and that I needed to fit in some way, because it was the only one I could see.
Unfortunately environments, like churches, companies and even the family can compose an environment that is not good for us and then we need to find ours, because trying to fit in can hurt us and collaborate so that we become someone else or the worst, let to be who we are. And if there is no such place, we may need to create one. I will not lie, it is not easy. But we can find people and many other resources to help us. I found many things, I will tell you.
So in college, as you might imagine, it was a long way, from learning, acquiring repertoires about various ways of existing and living. I developed the ability to listen and observe and so many others that promote health and well-being. In my profession I learned about welcoming, understanding and caring. I realized that feelings like guilt and all the actions that can increase this feeling lead to psychic discomfort, mental disorders like depression and even suicide. I learned about relationships and so many other contributions that helped me understand social movements and other such interactions. I learned that the human being is powerful and that there is a potential for transformation. I learned concepts like equity, empowerment, autonomy, and that these being present in the logic of social interaction
can bring so much freedom and quality of life to people and result in changing paradigms and transforming worlds. Ah, I learned a lot that made me and still has made me more human, too human.
At the same time that I was learning so many things about what was human and what makes us human, I was looking for God. I searched, searched and searched. I looked in the bible, in the church, in retreats, camps and vigils but I didn’t find Him in any of these places. And then I started to arrive at the following conclusion: that the relationship with the divine is something so personal that it is certainly within us. I started to search within myself for the relationship I was looking for and approached an idea of spiritual independence. Gradually and with a lot of reflection, therapy and self-care I have sought to improve myself as a person and in my relationships and to reformulate my faith.
But it is in fact a conflict. A conflict occurs when two opposing forces point in the same direction, such as: I have a desire for women, being a woman at the same time that I do everything to make sure that doesn’t happen, because I believe I can’t or that it’s wrong. It’s confusing and it hurts a lot, I know. This can be a sexual conflict, and there are still many others. But we can overcome them.
I learned and I am still learning that life is almost never a dichotomy, it is almost never right and wrong, good or bad, black and white, it is diverse, it is colorful and it is infinite. I usually say that since there are more than 7 billion people in the world, there must certainly be more than 7 billion possibilities and ways of being, of existing and of loving. Among so many possibilities, we don’t have to choose between two. I believe that we will not always need to choose one over the other. It is possible to find a middle ground, a balance. I did not leave my faith to live my sexuality nor the other way around, I am working to find a way to live with both of them because these two instances of life, like so many others, make up who I am and made me get here. We don’t need to deny or renounce who we are since this does not hurt us nor does it hurt others. There are several parallel universes, we will all find one. My faith also consists of this, being part of a possible universe for all forms of existence and it also helps me to produce a sense of life and living.
Now start the process of sharing with my friends about who I am and have already found a community here where I am accepted. Gradually and gradually, in my time I have gone less to the church I have been attending for almost 8 years and integrating into another community. I have been practicing spiritual independence. Also therapy, yoga and many hot baths. My wish is that everyone can find in themselves infinite reasons to be proud and sensitive and positive ways of relating in an identical way, so that from then on they can start transforming the place they live in into a proper environment for our identity and as these relationships and interactions.
My best hug!
During my freshman and sophomore years of high school, I realized that I wasn’t straight. I started having feelings for girls that I had never experienced before, but there was always a part of me that tried to suppress them so I wouldn’t disappoint anyone. I had been struggling for a while, I was scared to open up to my friends, and I honestly didn’t know what to do. I had felt this way until one day my best friend came out to me as pansexual. It made me feel better knowing that I had someone who would accept me and show me support no matter what. A couple months passed and I finally found the courage to talk to her about my path to discovering a major part of me. I ended up coming out as bisexual to my friends, and I started dating a boy during my junior year.Throughout that relationship I tried really hard to make myself feel like I liked him. Turns out, there really wasn’t anything there for either of us so we broke up. It was hard for me because I wanted something with a boy to work so badly but it never did.
A few months passed, and I was nearing the end of my junior year when I became friends with a girl who I had only seen a couple of times on the bus. I sat down at her lunch table because all my friends were out doing their senior ditch day. We talked more and hung out a couple of times and then I realized that I had a crush on her. I had feelings for her that were way different than anything I had ever felt for a boy. At this point though, I still tried telling myself that I liked boys and I ended up going to junior prom with my ex. Summer came along and I talked to the girl I had a crush on more and I finally figured out that I made a connection with her that I was never able to have with boys. So, I started questioning my sexuality again. Then during my senior year I became friends with the people who she hung out with, which were also apart of the lgbtqia+ community. I finally had the support I needed to figure out my sexuality, because my parents never really gave me their full support and always told me things that you don’t want to hear. After I started college and finished my first semester, I finally found the courage to tell my parents that I was gay. From that point until now, I have been slowly but surely becoming more and more proud of who I am, and it’s because of the people I’ve surrounded myself with, and all the people who are willing to portray characters and show the world the lgbtqia+ community.
I look up to each and everyone of you beautiful people for sharing your experiences and allowing me to see that our community is filled with very extraordinary individuals. <3
I realised that I was different when I was 14 years old. I grew up in a pretty strict christian family, so I was scared. I believe in god myself and that’s why I prayed every day for two years for my “problem” to go away, to “turn” straight. But at one point something was telling me that nothing was wrong with me. That I was born this way and that I should be proud of myself for what I am and what I’ve been through.
I started to tell some friends that I’m into girls and for most of them it wasn’t even a big surprise. After that I told my family. First my mother, after that my brother. The last one was my father. He was homophobic in the past so I was really afraid of telling him. But he told me that he loved me anyway und our father-daughter-relationship has never been better. He is really proud of me and of who I am today. Together, we even talk about how “complicated” women are, haha.
One day, not long after telling him that I was gay, I called him on the phone. He was driving home from work and it was the first time I told him about a girl. He said to me “I wish you could see me right now. I have tears in my eyes. I’m so happy for you and so proud.”
People can change. Sometimes it takes a while. Sometimes people won’t understand. But, YOU are precious and worthy, remember that! Be good to yourself. You’re not alone. We’re all in this together. It will get better!
Shows like Wynonna Earp that have LGBTQ+ characters in it really helped me getting through the rough times.
So thank you for that!
Now I’m 22 years old and still waiting for the love of my life. But I’m optimistic that I’ll find her one day.
Greetings from Germany,
Livia
I knew I was different when I was about 11. Didn’t realize it until I was in my twenties.
I was reading fan-fiction one day and started talking to the author of the story and she told me that she was gay and how she came out and was proud of it. I told her what I had been feeling and came out to her as bisexual.
Then I had to buck the courage to tell My best friend of 20 years at that point. But she had pointed it out to me one day after my conversation with the author friend.
She told me she always knew because I looked at girls differently than I do guys. She wasn’t put off because she has a gay family member.
I told my husband and he smiled and said I still love you.
The hardest one to tell was my other friend. She wasn’t too keen on gay people as In she just didn’t get it. However now we play “couple” together when we do go out to the bar for a girls night. She’s fine with me now. Just blindsided her.
In a manner of speaking I haven’t totally come out. I’m terrified of telling my family. My dad I’m sure knows I’ve hinted at it and he goes with it. But it’s my mother. She’s called bisexual people greedy. And it’s stuck with me. She’s called me a butch since I cut my hair differently. Or how I wear my clothes. She says you dress like a dyke. I get annoyed and ignore her as best as I can.
It hurts. It will always hurt. But Dominique you inspire me. So here is my truth. I am a bisexual married woman. I love the heart not the parts type.
You can’t help who you love.
It began when I was 5 years old. There was a girl in my class with short dirty blonde hair and I still remember the red and white ruffled dress she wore, with her dingy white sneakers. I knew something was different. I was having these feelings that I couldn’t explain, and they continued to grow. My dad was in the Army so we moved a lot, and met a lot of different people. I was constantly bombarded with all these new attractions I was experiencing. When I was 10 years old, I realized that this was the real beginning of my struggle with my sexuality. There were two girls in my class that I could never stop talking about. I started drawing out their names during class and was constantly thinking about them. “This can’t be normal! Why am I having these feelings? What’s wrong with me? Do I tell mom and dad? What would they say?” Then I remembered I had an aunt, who was rumored to have a girlfriend, and that was highly frowned upon-yet no one ever confronted her about it. My parents just told us that “they were girlfriends.” I took that as they were together, but it was never explained or rarely spoken of. When it was mentioned, it was always with eyebrows raised. Their reaction to her made it even more difficult for me to want to talk to them.
After a few months at a new school, my sister found a couple drawings of girls’ names that I had really huge crushes on. “I LOVE…” She went straight to our mom with them! I was so embarrassed and confused. “You are just confused. You can talk to me, okay?” I WAS NOT going to talk to her! “This is my secret and it will pass,” I thought to myself. Maybe I was going through a phase. My dad was away, so I felt a little more at ease that I didn’t have to try to talk to him too.
I was 16 years old when my mom came up to me and asked me outright if I was gay. Her eyes pierced my soul. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was so ashamed. I did NOT want to disappoint her. Without hesitation, I looked directly into her eyes and lied to her. “NO! I’m just not interested in anyone, that’s all.” She knew I was lying, but did not say so. I continued to have my secret crushes, but never allowed myself to fully give in to my feelings. It was miserable, to have all these feelings and be terrified to speak about them. My questionable sexuality was knocking at my door. I was in real trouble. It was getting harder and harder to suppress these feelings. My friends at school were all dating and here I was, not interested in any guys. AT ALL. I decided that I would just tell everyone that my mom would not allow me to date because I had to focus on my studies. That’s what Asian kids do right? They don’t have time for relationships!
I was 20 when I met Lou. She was the general manager at the restaurant that I worked at. Over the years of our friendship, she noticed that I never had a boyfriend, or talked about relationships in general. One day, I decided to date a guy. We had gone to high school together and he was recently divorced with a young son. Honestly, I was trying to test if I was really gay. This relationship ended quickly, as I realized that even if I had feelings for him, being with him felt like a job. I went through all the motions but had no real connection. I was watching him fall for me and for what? To disappoint him in the end? We ultimately broke up because I was always choosing work over him, or any excuse to keep him at a distance. My mom and Lou watch all of this unfold. Neither of them were fooled for a second. The thing that Lou said to me that I will never forget is that, “you can’t help who you love.” I didn’t answer, but I knew that she knew. I was 29 when I had the worst encounter of my life. I had met someone at my new job and had fallen in love with her, and I could NOT bear to tell her. The friendship ended horribly because I wouldn’t explain to her why I was so jealous of her boyfriend. In an effort to forget about how my life was completely ruined by me being in the closet, I decided suddenly to join the military. I needed a new environment, a change. I had to get out of here!
In a new place, I decided that I could finally be me. None of the past shame or mistakes. However, “don’t ask, don’t tell,” was still in effect (homosexual servicemen/servicewomen could stay in the military if they did not openly declare their sexual orientation). I got involved with a girl at the barracks, and things escalated quickly. We were careful, because we didn’t want to bring attention to ourselves. I lied to her about my past in the beginning, but seeing how serious it was getting, I finally told her to truth. I’d never been with a woman. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. During the duration of our relationship, we had difficult arguments. I had not come out to my family and was avoiding it, which was a huge problem for her since she expected them to know that she existed as more than my friend. She wanted to get married and wanted kids, and to be accepted by my family. I was not ready for ANY of that. Everything was still so new but I still was not able to be ME. I was living two separate lives.
The next year, my mom got diagnosed with cancer. Within that year, she passed away. I never came out to her. And now she was gone. I fell into a horrible depression and was not sure I going to make it in the military. I had only been in for a couple years and my girlfriend was afraid I would ruin my career. Since I had been free of suppressing my sexuality, I decided to suppress my grief over losing my mom. It caught up to me a few months later when I getting ready to report to my first ship. We dated for another year before she ended things. We were on opposite coasts and would be separated for 3-4 years. My first REAL heart break. As soon as I was able, I went home on leave and came out to my dad and sisters. I came out to my dad first, and boy was that the hardest thing I ever had to do. I couldn’t even look at him. He is a man of very little words so when he asked if I was sure, I looked at him through my tears. “Dad, I’ve known since I was 5.” He looked down, then said, “okay,” and walked away. I felt a huge wave of relief. I mean, he didn’t hug me or tell me everything was going to be fine, but I knew it would be. I came out to my sisters next, which was much easier. “I knew it! Why couldn’t you just tell us? It was obvious! I remember your little drawings,” my one sister yelled. The other one was still a baby back then, but then chimed in, “I was just waiting for you to tell us.” I started crying because I wasn’t able to tell my mom, and that I would never be able to tell her.
Newly single at 32 and a new duty station was just the change that I needed . “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was repealed and I could serve the remainder of my time in the military truly happy and free. When asked “what I am,” I would always answer, “I like what I like.” I still to this day have no label and have been happy in my “no label” sexuality since then. I have never felt the need to come out to everyone. My dad and sisters know and I’m okay with that. In my dad’s words, “You don’t need to announce it to the world. You don’t owe anyone any explanation. You do what you feel is right, and what makes you happy.”
I finished my contract and returned home. I had a lot of people speculate on my sexuality but the only person I cared about was Lou. She has been my best friend for years and like a big sister, but I still have not come out officially to her. I don’t feel the need to. Outside of my dad and sisters, I know that she loves me unconditionally. I know that she knows, and I believe she is still waiting on me to tell her. Maybe I will soon. 21 years later is not too late.
My whole life I was asexual and aromantic. But I didn’t have words. I picked names of random guys to be crushes, basing it on ‘well he seems nice and people expect me to say someone.’ I agreed to go on dates when asked. For a time, I even wanted nothing more than to be in a happy, straight relationship because that I meant I was not only wanted and desirable as a person, it meant I was normal. After trying out dating life with someone who on paper should have checked all the boxes, I felt so uncomfortable. Every day as his ‘girlfriend’ I felt nauseous. I felt like I was lying. I couldn’t call him my boyfriend. I avoided him as much as I could. I kept thinking in time it would get better, but the more attempts we made at having a normal relationship, the more uncomfortable I felt. I had a friend say ‘well maybe you’re asexual.’ I sheepishly agreed, but honestly had no idea that was even a thing and felt embarrassed in my ignorance. After a lot of googling, I knew who I was. I am thankful for that relationship, which I ended shortly after my discovery.
But the way I found myself and the time I found myself (2012) ingrained a sense in me that as well as I could understand myself, no one else could. So I went on, being myself to people who knew me, but staying silent in other areas aside from a few brave moments on social media. And often when it did come up, people asked questions. And as much as I do think everyone deserves an education, I couldn’t help feeling like no matter what answer I gave, they already had one in mind that would hold true. No matter if it was or not. That continued. I have been welcomed by the LGBT+ community, but knowing not everyone feels that way towards asexuality kept me feeling wrong and broken all over again. I didn’t fit in a straight mold. Nor did I fit a queer one. Even though the majority of people I’ve encountered have been kind, I still tend to fall into silence. Supporting pride and equality for others, but producing an internalized list of reasons why feeling inferior in my identity daily isn’t enough to qualify me as deserving the same as everyone else.
Years of off-putting conversation, exclusion and lack or representation created this paradox. I could accept myself. I could love seeing other people proclaim their pride. But I felt indulgent, selfish and out of place if I did the same. But as time has gone on, I realized I don’t need to justify my right to claim my identity. It’s not a contest of suffering. And in a way, the rules we use to measure our experiences don’t fit all identities. I have had the amazing safety of passing as straight and the anonymity to be who I am without fear of repercussions as long as I avoid the topic of my sexuality in conversation. But I’ve also had to lie every time I turn a guy down because I’m afraid if I tell the truth that he’d try to prove me wrong. I had a therapist I went to for help question my orientation and experiences relentlessly, going as far as suggesting I ‘try it’ with multiple genders to see which I prefer. I’ve had strangers ask if I masturbate, if I’ve tried X,Y,Z thing, or tell me I just haven’t found the one yet because they know me better than I know myself. And most of all, I have to go through every day thinking I don’t have the right to express who I am. Feeling guilty for being proud and knowing who I am.
Dom came out on her birthday. I write this on my own birthday. I’ve been ‘out’ for years now, but this year I pledge to allow myself to take up the space I deserve. I have and will always support the representation of all orientations, genders, races, cultures and identities. I will continue to raise up all of the other voices that need to be heard in this world. But I also need to start using my own.
take care of each other!