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Out Is The New In​

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I’m an out and proud butch lesbian

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

I am just me.

My small town nestled in the northern rockies wasn’t full of diversity. My friends and I grew up knowing a world existed beyond ours. One full of accents, varying skin tones, different religions and maybe even new sexual orientations. But those were just ideas, concepts really. We didn’t interact with that world and our little plot village didn’t attract it to us either. So we never thought about being anything other than part of our tiny community. After graduation we went out to discover the places we’d only seen in deteriorating history books and boy did we find them. Slowly we became part of something bigger. We traveled and learned and listened until it became clear this life shouldn’t be divided into us and them because we are, all of us, treading together through life’s unexpected craziness.
In this time most of the people I’d grown up with started coming out. My brother was bi and married his now husband, my biggest “crush” in high-school came home with his boyfriend, my best friend moved in with her partner and my whole rugby team laid down structural support systems for any and all members of the LGBTQ. But I was still afraid. Afraid of how much it would effect everything. My job at a Christian daycare, my parents chance for biological grandkids and even how much I just hate rocking the boat. But suddenly I was in love with a woman who was also not ready to tell the world. Which made it easy to justify hiding our relationship for years. Sure sometimes I wanted to hold her hand in public or kiss her goodbye at the airport but giving those up seemed easy if it meant I got to go home to her each night. When it ended with her parents finding her a man with a good job my heart broke along with the illusion that I wanted to be anything other than me. And who I loved was a massive part of me. A few prides and a couple difficult conversations later I was out at 29. It didn’t all get better, its still a struggle somedays but for the first time ever the pressure on my chest, I didn’t even know was there, has begun to fade. Seeing the world as one whole, knowing that different is what makes it so great and way more fun, helped me find my way. And while there is still so much work to be done I see the hope and happiness spreading further and faster and I can’t help but smile.

Femke, 28Y, Belgian ( Europe) – putting the L in LGTB – CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR AND SUICIDE.

My story, ….
When I was about 13y old, i fell in love for the very first time. I know you’re basically still a child then but I had never felt that way before.
The head-over-heels kinda love. My teacher of dutch was the aim of all that love, haha.
My best friend knew what was going on, we had been in the same class since we were 3y old.
I felt so happy, the pink cloud you know. but I struggled too…. It felt so wrong. It didn’t hit me at first but the moment i realized that i did not just like her, but fell in love with her, i also realized that my teacher was not a man, but a beautiful at that time 27y old ( i think ) woman.

Damn, that hit me hard. It felt so so wrong. Everything about it was wrong. falling in love with your teacher? UGH. Falling in love with a woman? UGH. AT 13y? UGH!

Time passed and i did not know how to cope.
So i started ‘cutting’ myself at my wrists. I wore wristbands to cover it up.
I didn’t do it for a long time but by the end i had about 30 marks, each 2 to 3 cm ( about an inch ).

Luckily, the friend i mentioned before, knew that particular teacher also private, as the were neighbors.
She told her what i had been doing, and why….

The teacher talked to me several times, she made time for me during lunch brakes to discuss why everything felt so wrong.
She told me it was okay to fall for a teacher ( happens to a lot of people) but that ofcourse it was not mutual.
BUT also that these feelings for people of the same gender weren’t so wrong as i thought. her sister apparently was gay too.
She looked up some tips to stop the cutting. one i remember was wearing an elastic band around my wrists. so when i felt the need to hurt, i could just pull it, but no scars, no wounds, …. it was the first step to make it stop.

I’m still thankful to this day that she helped me, that she comforted me, that she made me feel good and okay.
Even though it must have been kinda awkard sitting in that room with a kid that is so in love with you….

Yet after all that was over, i did not have the courage to come out to more of my friends or my family.
I waited until i was 16. we got an assignment at school, to make an ad, a kind of collage for your older self to look at. with wishes, aspirations, ..
I wrote down that i hoped i’d be happy with my wife …. a little later our teacher ( religion ) asked something about it, and i came out to my entire classroom. it felt so freeing yet so difficult that immediately after i ran out of class. my emotions were just too much and i did not want anyone to see it, neither did i want to hear a reaction because i was afraid there might be negative ones.
But most of them wore cool with it. except for some boys who reacted rather childish, and i expected it from those particular boys so it didn’t affect me that much ( but it always does a bit … i”m sure you’ll understand ).

I was very scared of my parents reaction too. I kinda knew they would probably be okay with it, my older niece had a girlfriend at the time, my mom’s boss was gay, … and my parents were fine with all of that. but still i had the idea that when it would be their own child, they would react differently.
but they didn’t. my mom was kinda sad, but just because i hadn’t told her sooner, instead of carrying this weight on my shoulders alone for such a long time.

So it all went much smoother than i thought. I realize many people have it a lot worse than me.
but still the thought process, the mental struggle, …. i wish it will be different for the generations to come.
that they can grow up, without thinking for just a minute that they’re wrong, that they’re not good enough.
cause they are good enough.

I am happily married with my beautiful wife Elise, who is a teacher too ;-), see it comes all full circle haha.
We’re expecting our first child, so soon we’ll be a family of 3.

Hope it all works out for all of you 2

As Ellen would say: ” be kind to one another”

Femke
* sorry for the spelling mistakes, my computer freaks out when i type in english.
and i’m not a native speaker ofcourse.

Kathy V.

I am a woman who will be 60 next April, so I come from a time and place where expressing to the world, or at least your family and friends, that you are a Lesbian was not accepted by many. I was around 30 (similar to Dominique) when I finally let people know my truth, my identity. It was one of the scariest and most liberating times of my life. I received some backlash from family and friends but the knowledge that I was being honest for the first time in my life and what I gained from that was worth more than what I lost in relationships. That, to me, is what helped me to finally feel like a whole/complete person. Knowing that I may lose a relationship I shared with someone that had meant a great deal to me for many years. But the TRUTH is, the relationship wasn’t honest and without honesty there can be no depth to any relationship.

I have been fortunate to cultivate relationships over the years with people who do accept me for who I am and I do the same in return. Keeping positive people in your life is the key to living the very best you can.

If I had not come out to at least to myself I would have never attained one of the greatest gifts of my life, my relationship with my partner of over 20 years. She was one of the brightest light in my life and because of her I care deeper for others, give more of my time, help other humans that may need a lift in their life, and most importantly view all people equally. She passed away in March 2020 of a long term illess. But even in her struggles with her health, and there were many, she always put others first. I struggle sometimes with the deep loss I feel and it often times overwhelms me for the sweet soul I have lost from my life, my touch stone. But than I realize I must try to help others for that’s what her life was all about. Even on the most difficult of days she would offer to help someone else without complaint. I don’t believe I can express in words just how generous she was and what a wonderful human being.

So I want anyone who is struggling to know, I am here for you. If you need an ear to listen or voice to help find the answers to your questions, I am here for you. I dont’ have all the answers myself, no one does, but I have been through many difficult situations in this life and have many years of experiences from which to pull. I have spoken/counciled others who are strugging with their identity and how to be accepted by others, and more importantly, accept themselves. I just want you to know that if there is a way I can help I am available.

The Long Road To Acceptance

CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR.

It all started when I was 12 years old and I had my first experience with lesbian representation on tv. For some reason I couldn’t get it off my mind and I sat alone in my room wondering if it could be possible… could I be gay? The answer was clearly yes but my young, innocent self didn’t figure it out that easily. I went through the stages, denial, denial, oh she’s beautiful… wait, denial, denial, denial. At this time in the world the whole concept of LGBT+ was taboo and so separate from what is taught to us as ‘normal’ that I believed something was wrong with me. This couldn’t be happening to me. I was 12-13 years old and I already hated myself.

I then felt, that because I had discovered this aspect of me, I had to come out immediately. Isn’t that how it goes? I was pressured by a ‘friend’ to tell them my secret but the fear consumed me and I couldn’t do it. I now know it’s because I wasn’t ready but that didn’t matter to her and I wrote my secret on a small piece of paper in class. She opened it and class was over. I felt sick and terrified. That’s not where the note stopped and instead it made it’s way to someone else… Then you know how school is. The next day a lot of people knew. I don’t even know who did or didn’t to this day but at the time it felt as though my whole world knew and they were all staring at me. I lost all of my friends. I had no one. It made me feel dirty. I didn’t want this anymore.

I didn’t deal with this well at all or in a healthy way. I was cowering to the farthest corner of the closet trying to grasp onto the darkness with all of my strength. The same person that received my note first showed me how to take my fear, disgust, punishment out on myself physically. It didn’t help but I needed control over something because I was lost. The darkness of that closet spread to my life everywhere and I was very close to ending the darkness all together…

I made it, I’m not sure how, but I made it through school and at 16 years old I was free of those people and the label of being gay. So I left the label there and I pretended like I’d never even considered it to begin with. For another 3-4 years I lived in blindness of who I was and did everything I could to stop any thoughts of the past and the rainbow. To be honest, for a while it worked but was I happy? Was I comfortable? Did I deserve it? No absolutely not.
I started university, I got with guys. I got told I should be getting with guys. Does it feel like this for everyone? Maybe you aren’t supposed to really like it? I did not enjoy it but I was still covering my eyes and ears from anything other than what was expected. I guess I actually drank enough to dull my senses and not acknowledge what was really happening. Yes, my use of physical harm on myself moved to borderline alcoholism. I mean it is university after all. But this way of living helped me kiss who I wanted to kiss and be with who I wanted to without explaining myself almost. When you do kiss who you are meant to, I am telling you, it feels amazing and right and everything it should. Wait… can I actually do this? Look around, people here don’t care. No one cares. Yes, please be yourself. It feels too good not too.

Watch out, your rainbow is showing! Finally.

It doesn’t matter how I got here or how long it took. What matters is that I did. This is my journey. It is beautiful.

I managed to find my truth and even though it took counselling and a breakdown to grieve my straight self I am me and I found someone outstanding to love along the way.

I finally accept myself, the love of my support system which I am incredibly lucky to have and the love from myself. I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy or it is always sunshine now but it is true and it is free. I still get looks when I hold my girlfriend’s hand in public. I still get approached by people when I decide to kiss her in public. I still don’t tell people I first meet about my sexuality because I don’t want to be judged. I still scout out any representation I can of LGBT+ content in media because we still don’t have enough (but thank you for what we do have, just don’t kill off all the lesbians please). However, I will take all of that because I also love this unique part of myself and I really bloody love love.

It is getting better and we are all in this together. I am thankful for my story and I am thankful for my gay.

So breathe, take your time, love yourself and make waves. You got this!

Love, Hannah.

#OUTISTHENEWIN

I’m bi with pride

I knew since a very young age that I felt attracted by all genders. To be honest never felt the need to say it out loud to accept myself. I had some boyfriends (different races and nationalities) some were presented to my family (just the serious relationships) and then when I start dating my current girlfriend/fiancée (who is from a different nationality) I presented her to my family the same way. No big deal was made, the same questions were asked and she was accepted the same way. I know I’m a lucky woman for living in a very open minded family and country (Portugal). I wish that everyone could have the same luck and be accepted just like they are. I see myself as bi but to be honest that’s just a word, I love all genders, races and nationalities and I’m proud to say it! Be you!

Forced out, still proud

Ive known since i was young (around the age of 12) that i wasn’t straight, however it created an inner conflict because i was not yet ready to face it or accept it. This conflict and struggle of acceptance was something i used write about, in a ‘diary’ and through poems. Slowly, by the age of 17, i had got the courage to come out to my nephew (hes a year younger than me and my is like a best friend to me), and that feeling i got after telling him was so incredibly freeing, not to sound cliché it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted, though he remained the only person i was out to for a few months. Not long after coming out to him i started getting closer to a girl at school, we had me that october (i had came out to my nephew a few weeks prior) and by december we were officially dating! (yay!) but the situation isnt that simple, less than a month after meeting this girl, my best friend at the time admitted to having feelings for me (she was also a girl) but i just didnt feel the same way about her, she was my best friend and i’d never thought of her as anything more (it’s also worth mentioning she identified & continues to identify as straight, so perhaps she’s going through/went through her own journey of sexual identity?). After a long conversation with this friend we attempted to go back to normal despite her telling me she had a crush on me & me not liking her back. I didn’t tell her about the girl & i talking or getting together because i didnt want to hurt her feelings (i realise this was absolutely not the right thing to do, had i told my best friend about it then maybe what happened next wouldnt have happened at all). During sixth form (i think this is college for americans) my best friend somehow found out from literally the only other person we told that this girl & i had been together for around a week…i dont know if this next part came out of jealousy or spite or just pure hatred but my best friend went & outed me to all of my peers in the common room…only 1 or 2 of my friends new & i hadn’t even told them, my girlfriend did. people i had been friends with for 6 years didnt even know yet because it was something i was still finding my way through & feeling out…yet i was forced to be okay with what my ‘best friend’ did. i feel guilty in this situation for being a rubbish friend and not yet telling her about the girl & i but it was all so fresh and the news about my best friend liking me had come as a shock to me so i was having to deal with so many feelings at once. not an excuse, but i dont feel as though i deserved to be outed….as someone that had struggled with being gay and coming to terms with it for YEARS (just like so, so many other lgbtqia people) being outed was the worst experience of my life but something i have to live with & move on from. On a more positive note, this happened in january of 2018 (just over 2 years ago) and i am still with the girl in this story!!! We’re moving in together in September because we’re both heading to university (she’s studying to be a midwife, what an absolutely angel!).

I’m Katherine

I haven’t had the courage to come out yet, but this movement made it easier for me to accept who I am and who I love. I think that subconsciously, I knew that I was a lesbian since a young age. I was only ever interested and drawn to the female characters, actresses, teachers, you name it, and I imagined my future life living with a female friend (because what else would she be?). I’ve been told many times by people that if you are queer, you always know from a very young age. I struggle to believe that. I didn’t realize until I was a teenager, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not as much part of the queer community as a person who knew since they were 5, or a person who found out at 40. I want to thank all of you amazing human beings out there that are part of our community, who choose to be themselves even though the world doesn’t want to allow it. I want to thank all of you who, despite not being queer, stand up for what is right. And lastly I want to thank Dominique for having the courage to come out, and in turn giving others that same courage to accept ourselves. Thank you for starting this amazing movement, and thank you for being you. #OutIsTheNewIn

Samantha – Homoromantic Demisexual – She/Her/Hers

My story takes place in Texas, commonly known as one of the least open-minded states in the United States. My story is a long one, as my identity evolved drastically through time. I am blessed, however, to have grown up in a very loving and accepting family. I’ve known members of the LGBTQ2IA+ community my whole life, yet I never really considered it for myself until I was around 16. As a kid everyone would ask what we wanted to be when we grew up and I would stay silent because there’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted to be. Happy. At 16 I had no idea who I was and how could I be happy when I didn’t even know what or who I wanted in life. I honestly didn’t have much to go off of, I’d never had so much as a crush on anyone, regardless of gender. I credit much of my realization to the love I have for television. At 16 I would watch pairings like Clarke and Lexa from the 100 and it helped me to accept the fact that maybe I was gay. I say that like I was just like “Yep, I’m gay” but honestly I just felt like I needed to put a label on myself and although “gay” didn’t really feel like it fit who I was completely, I didn’t really know what else I could be. I could imagine myself in a relationship with a woman in a way that, to this day, I cannot imagine with a man. And honestly, the thought terrified me. Society can be cruel, as can my mind. I began to ask myself if the “unconditional” love my parents had for me was truly that, or if I would lose everything and everyone I love in one fell swoop by coming out. I mentally weighed the options countless times and basically began to prepare for the worst. Family and friends have always been the most important thing in my life and therefore, I decided that I if I could save my relationships by waiting for the “perfect moment” then that’s what I would do. Fear cost me a year of my life and I quickly learned that the perfect moment does not exist. So I decided to do what I do best, and write it down. See I’ve tried the in person coming out thing and call me a coward, but I am not built for the extra level of stress and anxiety it gave me. So a week after my 17th birthday, I came out to my parents as gay via college application. I don’t think I’ll ever forget holding my breath as they read over my shoulder, nor will I forget the silence that seemed to last forever before my mother sat next to me, turned towards me, and asked…”so you really never want to see men naked????” I laughed and the anxiety began to fade, even if the label wasn’t a perfect fit. I knew it was just the first step to coming out, but I had at least gotten through it alive. Though the inaccuracy of the label I had given myself still bothered me. That’s when I turned to research. So. Much. Research. Why didn’t I experience crushes the same way that other people did? Why did I not care at all about sex in a society that was seemingly obsessed with it? That same week I came across AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, and began to read. I cried. They were describing me. Until that moment I had never heard of asexuality, it was so far off my radar and I quickly learned just how far off everyone else’s radar it was too. Cut to 18 year old me entering college for the first time. At this point I had come out to my immediate family. Again. And a select few of my friends. I had also been told by various people that people like me “shouldn’t exist” or that it was just a phase I would grow out of. I learned how common it was for asexual people to feel broken or even inhuman. People often assume that due to our sexuality, we don’t have emotions or the capacity to love or be loved. A cruel assumption but one that still occasionally plagues my feeling of self-worth. Despite these social pressures however, I entered college wanting nothing more than to be out and proud in this new place with all these new people. For the most part I was, though I knew that for every acquaintance I told, there was a family member that should’ve heard it from me first. So once again, I wrote it down. At 19, I came out on instagram and the same week I mailed 7 coming out letters and just like that, I was out to the world. The most stressful week of my life freed me. I was able to finally live my life as the emotional burden began to lift. Never have I been prouder of myself than in that moment. The 3 year journey led me to finally feeling seen and comfortable with who I am. Flashing forward to my life now as a 20 year old, my journey continues towards self-love. And although the state of the world worries me, I can honestly say that sitting down with my parents during this quarantine and watching Wynonna Earp, I really feel, for the first time in a very long time, happy. #OutIsTheNewIn

I identify as Queer and/or Bisexual

I think I kinda always knew, the signs were all there, but I just never really realized until December of 2017 (at that year I was 16 years old) that’s when it hit me that I may be Bisexual.

Every since then I’ve been trying to understand and learn more about the LGBTQ+ Community also I have been watching way more gay movies and TV shows, and I’m pretty sure my parents knows that I’m “hiding” something from them – I haven’t come out…. yet – I plan on doing it when I feel comfortable and when it is the right time to do it.

On November of 2018 I had my first kiss with a woman at a friend’s party, now I understand what they say about “woman’s lips being incredible soft and once you tasted it you will definitely get addicted”, because that’s exactly how I feel.

If I’m being completely honest I’m a firm believer that sexuality is fluid. Meaning that right now I identify as bisexual but in a few months or even years that can change and I’ll be whatever sexual orientation it feels right for me at the moment – doesn’t matter if it is lesbian, pansexual, demisexual, assexual, etc.

#OutIsTheNewIn