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i was standing in line at an Amanda Palmer concert, and a female presenting person in front of me made me go: oh. girl-types are pretty too. i havent looked back except to realize how much this reveals about my adolescent interactions with certain girls that i didn’t recognize because they were different than my crushes on boys.
Growing up in a household where homosexuality was never discussed, I never realized that I in fact was a lesbian. I started to fantasize about women at a young age (5 y/o), but it was not until high school that it really started to hit me. I realize that I was not flirting with guys who were trying to hook up because I was too distracted by the beautiful girl near me. During the day I was busy with theatre, dealing with my father’s death, shitty math classes that I could barely pass, and other things; however, during the night it was just me and my thoughts. It came to the point where I could not take it anymore and was miserable. I knew that I had to do something right then and there. Of course I would muster up the courage to come out in the early AM while everyone was asleep except for my sister. I decided that the best thing I could do is type out an e-mail and send it to those who I valued opinions from the most, so I did and it was the most terrifying e-mail I have ever sent. Since my sister was still out and about with her boyfriend, I decided I would text her. Her response was almost immediate. I was shocked to see that all she wrote was “it’s about time”. That helped me relax a bit that night, but the nagging thoughts of me losing my best friends and family members made it a restless sleep. I was so worried my female best friends would think I intentionally wanted to share a bed during sleepovers because I wanted to sleep with them. I was terrified to be woken up in the middle of the night to my mum dragging me out of the house by my hair and disowning me. Would the man who promised my dad he would take care of us disown me so I am completely out of a father figure? When morning came I managed to get out of bed and right when I opened my door the universe made sure it was at the same time my mum was walking out of her room. We stood there staring at each other and the look she gave me I have never seen before. Thankfully after what felt like hundreds of hours she asked, “are you sure?”. I said yes and b-lined for the bathroom. Nothing else was said after that until I caught her watching a documentary on homosexuality a few days later. This time the looks were reversed! Thankfully most of my loved ones were accepting. I was set free on Monday, October 6th, 2008 at 12:30AM. <3
Growing up in England I was abused by my grandma and mum. I don’t remember a time in my early childhood when I wasn’t looking outside the family for a “mother figure”. Growing up my dad told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, just not gay.
I came to America at 20 and went through 9.5 years of counselling to free myself from my past. For a long time I had wondered if I was gay or still just looking for a mother figure like I had in childhood. At the end of years of counselling and with my past behind me, I was able to say definitively: I am gay!
Then I had to tell my homophobic dad…he and my step-mum were stopping in LA for a few days on their way back to the UK from NZ. I went to my dad’s hotel and asked if I could speak to him alone. My heart was racing and I felt sick to my stomach. I had rehearsed what I was going to say to him for days. I looked him straight in the eye and told him I was very, very, VERY happily gay, then gave the biggest smile I could muster. He stared at me and started crying. I told him everything would be okay. He drank 5 PINTS of gin and tonic at the bar that night, and the next night.
He returned to England and I didn’t hear from him for 6 weeks. Then I got a 9 page, hand written letter in the mail from him. He wrote that I had crushed his dreams of me marrying a strapping American man who I would have kids with that would grow up to play rugby for England. My 3 1/2 year old nephew had died earlier that year and my dad compared me coming out to the death of his only grandson. It was devastating beyond words.
That was 12 years ago. 7 years ago I started watching “The Fosters” and 4 years ago I started watching “Wynonna Earp”. Both had positive queer representation with no strings attached. I realised through watching these shows that any lingering elements of self hatred were not mine, they were imposed feelings from others that I had taken on as my own.
I knew then that I could only be responsible for my personal truth and living my life in the most authentic way, no matter what. I would lead by example, I had NOTHING to be ashamed of.
I boldly introduced my dad to my then-girlfriend and he was amazingly accepting and positive. He could finally see how happy I was and after all I went through growing up, he knew I deserved happiness.
Today my dad has come full circle. Not only does he embrace who I am and is so proud of me for fighting so hard for the life I have, he also told me at my sister’s wedding that when the time comes, he would want to walk me down the aisle too.
Coming out wasn’t easy, but not being true to who I am was a WHOLE lot harder. I am happier with who I am now more than at any other time in my life!
My coming out journey has been closely tied to my mental health and trust me it hasn’t been a linear journey. As a person with borderline personality disorder, I’ve never felt well aligned with anything whether that be my gender, sexuality, or even my own personal identity and it took me 28 years to figure out why.
Throughout my life I have always been uncomfortable with grey area’s they make me feel uncertain and I don’t understand them well; and I struggle with thinking in only black or white. This has caused me to come out numerous times throughout my life by avoiding those grey areas as much as possible. So, growing up in a small rural town where everyone knows everyone made this harder. Exploring my gender and sexuality was (and frankly still is) frowned upon and received a lot of pushback from my community, friends, and family.
First, I was bisexual, then a lesbian, and up until recently a trans man. All never seemed to fit quite how I’d hoped, and honestly, I was avoiding what I already knew.
It took me 28 long years, to finally accept that I’m a nonbinary queer person and that maybe just maybe being a human grey area isn’t such a bad thing.
While coming to terms with this has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, it feels right to acknowledge these parts of myself. I finally feel like I’m honoring who I am and who I love. I’m still working on finding the courage to be out and proud but I feel like this is the best step to take. So regardless of how scared I am, I want to be me, and this is me coming out.
Looking back to my primary school years I can remember having feelings towards girls, and crushes on female celebrities at the time, I went through secondary school with a boy who later briefly got engaged too, still suppressing any thoughts of girls, I started my first job at 17 and instantly was attracted to another member of staff who was married, after many months we started having a physical relationship, this was our first same sex relationship and it was like someone had finally released me, we stayed together for 5 years having a secret relationship until she ended it, I was 32 by then, after the initial heart break I started living my life to the full and over the next 17 years embarked on 4 serious relationships, although by this time I was out to all my friends and colleagues, I still hadn’t come out to my family, this was a decision I had made as my parents were elderly and in poor health and I felt telling them would be fir my benefit and probably detrimental to them, so at the age of 49 my dear mother passed away and the following year I met someone and I posted a photo of us on social media to let everyone else know! Although we’re no longer together I credit her for giving the confidence to do it and love being a gay lady out and proud.
One important thing about me is that I’ve always loved stories. Novels, movies, series, any story. From a very young age I’ve felt the need of finding inspiration and role models in fiction. When I was a kid, I deeply wished for two things: being a heroine living many crazy adventures (as a mermaid if possible) and finding true love. True love, from what I had seen mostly in Disney movies seemed like the most extraordinary thing in the world. And it was between a man and a woman. At that time, I didn’t know any queer people. I probably knew gay couples existed but I would have never thought of it as a possibility for myself. It was like this abstract thing that was very far from my world.
When I became a teenager, I remember that at a very young age I wanted a boyfriend who would love me. I was still watching Disney, but also teen movies and Romcoms. I remember that I was looking for a guy in my class whom I could have a crush on. And every year or so I would find a guy I would fall for, and secretly admire, wishing for this perfect movie ending.
It was also in these years that I really discovered that lesbian love was actually a thing. First by a Russian band called Tatu (that you may or may not know). This band was formed by two girls who were a couple and it was a huge hit at that time. I loved there songs but I was mostly very curious about their relationship. I became very attached to it, I was buying magazines about them. I remember once I bought one, and there was a poster in it where they were kissing. My parents said they thought it vulgar. I’ll come back to my parents a bit later.
Of course, it was revealed that apparently the couple of this band was totally fake. At that time, I felt betrayed (teenagers can be dramatic, what can I say). But I feel like my admiration for them opened a door that never really closed. I was thirteen when I realized I had feeling with my best friend. I don’t know if it was because of our friendship, or because I actually felt an attraction. In the girls magazine I was reading, they were saying that it’s normal as a teenager to question yourself, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re gay. So maybe it was just that, I was confused.
I feel like I was living a sort of double life the following years: as I was still looking for my prince charming, I was at the same time watching and reading everything I could that was including a lesbian relationship. The problem was most of these characters where ending awfully: getting killed, committing suicide, being miserable in any way, or back to straight.
As I told you before, fiction has always been very important for me, to inspire me for what I wanted, for my dreams. I think at an unconscious level I got persuaded that if I was not ending in a relationship with a man, I would be miserable. I realized that everything would have probably been better if I had talked about this to someone. It didn’t even cross my mind, probably because I wouldn’t have known who to talk to anyway.
So for most of my teen and adult life, I lived as a straight woman, in straight relationships. Do I need to specify that it was a disaster ?
I started physical relationships at university mostly. And without realizing it, I developed a pattern: I was always attracted to men I couldn’t have, or didn’t try to have. And I was never attracted to men who were attracted to me, at least not at first. To be honest, I wouldn’t have looked at any of the men I ever dated in my life if they hadn’t show interest in me in the first place. And then I felt so lucky that they even considered to look at me (Hello low self-esteem). And then we were dating, and I was making me falling for them, and I was playing the perfect girlfriend. These relationships all ended in the same way: at some point the guy was losing interest in me and breaking up.
The thing is, even I if I felt heartbroken and bad every time, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of relief at the same time. Like suddenly I got my time, my energy and myself back.
And yes, I kept wanting to have a boyfriend, or THE boyfriend. I felt jealousy towards my friends who were dating these awesome guys who loved them for so long. Why wasn’t anyone loving me? Wasn’t I able to be loved?
In all my early and mid twenties I avoided thinking about my own sexual orientation. But when I was 23 or 24 I met a woman (let’s call her Marie) who was openly gay. We became friends, and she invited me one weekend at her and her girlfriend’s place. As we were watching movies and talking, she said that it was so strange that I was only attracted to men, because even here other straight friends all had at least on same-gender crush (mostly celebrities). I didn’t know what to respond to that. Obviously, I couldn’t be gay or even bi if for Marie I was the straightest of all her straight friends. Since she was gay, she obviously knew better than me.
I’d like to take this opportunity to say that no, no one know who you are, who you love or attracted to better than yourself.
To go back to my parents, when I told them that Marie was gay, my mom answered me with a laugh « as long as you don’t become like that. » It was a joke for her.
That’s the thing with my parents: they are not what you could call obviously homophobic. They don’t insult queer people, they think they should have rights, they have no problem watching movies about gay people (as long as it’s tasteful according to my mom. I don’t know what it means either) and being moved by gay love stories. But they always made me feel like being something else than straight wasn’t right for me. I know that my mom have always pictured me with a handsome guy (and is probably very desperate because it’s still not happening) and I can feel the heavy weight of her expectations. It is probably why even if I’m 31 my parents still don’t know who I really am. I don’t know I’m ever gonna be able to tell them (if anyone has tips^^) or iff they suspect something.
But this story has a happy twist. After a burn out at work, I started a big work on myself, and after my last relationship with a man, I realized that it would be indeed probably the last one. At 28 I was finally ready to admit that I was attracted to women, and guess what, fiction helped again. This is where I want to talk about Wynonna Earp, and Waverly. I saw a lot of myself in her and her relationship with Nicole became very soon my couple goal. It was such a help and inspiration to me, so really, thank you. At that time, I thought of me as bisexual, but still questioning. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but once I felt that I wanted to date again, I subscribed to an online dating app for the first time in my life. And I felt SO AWKWARD. I didn’t know how to start a conversation or what to do to keep one active. But this is where I met the woman I fell in love with and still dating today. For the first time in my life, I deeply love the person I’m dating and our relationship. Even if we don’t live in the same country and haven’t been able to see each other for a while because of what’s happening in the world, I couldn’t feel more happy, safe and excited at the same time.
I realized that I was identifying as gay or lesbian (but I still prefer queer), but that my sexuality will stay fluid: I can be attracted to men, but I don’t want to date them or have sex with them. The spectrum is so much wider than I thought before and I’m so happy to be part of this community.
But no matter how I call myself, it’s only when I saw and accepted who I was that I could really love myself and express my true identity. Thank you Dom for giving us this space of expression <3
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE AND SUICIDE.
There’s a saying in Urdu, “Sitaaron se aagey jahaan aur bhi hai, abhi ishq ke imtehaan aur bhi hai” which means that there are a lot of other worlds beyond the stars other than our own. We still have to face a lot of hurdles on this path of love. And I think that’s exactly how I feel deep in my heart.
My name is Kalyani and I’m from India. I kind of knew I was a lesbian when I was 13. But I was never sure because I always thought a big reason why I wasn’t attracted to boys was because I was sexually abused as a child. So I was confused. I was broken to the point where I completely gave up on life and started using drugs and drinking, hoping that I would somehow magically become “normal” because growing up on India it was always difficult to live my own truth about my sexuality and I wanted to be accepted and loved but I also didn’t want people to judge me for who I was. So I always kept pushing it away and that led to self harm and s*icidal tendencies.
2019 was the definitive year for me. That’s when I decided to take help and started therapy. And it helped me accept myself and love myself. I’m not saying I’ve magically just started appreciating myself but I’m getting there. I’m trying to let go of my past and forgive the people who have hurt me, I’ve reached out to the people I’ve hurt in the process and asked for their forgiveness. I started my food business in 2020 and even though I don’t always make a lot of money, I want to help the Indian LGBTQIA movement on any way I possibly can so that people like us can be heard and accepted and be allowed to live their life without being judged or shamed.
I first knew I wasn’t the ‘same’ as everyone else when at the ripe age of 5 I asked my mum if she had ever gone out with girls as well as boys. She said no and I was slightly confused because I knew as a girl I should be attracted to boys but I wasn’t. I first came out to friends as bisexual at 12 and most of them didn’t mind but I faced a lot of weird comments and lost a lot of friends as I came from a very small area of Scotland that’s full of close minded individuals. I was dating a boy at 13 and we went out for almost a year and a half. I also told him that I was bisexual and he didn’t care at first. But he started to take advantage of this fact and told me that if I wanted I could experiment with girls only if he could join in etc etc, it was unhealthy. I left the relationship but have met more people like him that when they hear I’m LGBT+ instantly become creepy, try to take advantage, think they are able to say vulgar things and verbally abuse you when you turn down sexual advances, a real issue not many people speak about in the community. It was only a little under a year ago I came to the realisation I wasn’t at all bisexual and rather was in fact lesbian. Having to re-come out to people I’d already told I was bisexual was an odd experience, gladly no one bat an eye and everything’s been normal. I’ve not yet come out to family as I’m unsure of their perspectives and in the house I’m living in don’t feel safe to do so yet. I have moved out (although am back home due to lockdown and covid-19) and am currently attending university in a different region, everyone I’ve met I have been confident enough to tell them who I am and that I like girls and everyone’s been supportive. Coming to terms with who I am has been and will be a journey that I am constantly learning from. From having no representation ahead of me on TV, or knowing anyone who was part of the LGBT+ community for almost 16-17 years of my life was lonely and isolating. Today I’m surrounded by people who are just like me and support me, I’ve found representation in the media and I’ve learned to love and accept myself. The next chapter of this part of my life is hoping my family will do the same.
CONTENT WARNING: THIS COMING OUT STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTION AND/OR DISCUSSION ABOUT ABUSE.
I live in a country where homosexuality is punished by law – up to 20 years in jail and whipping. The government and religious bodies here are against the ‘lifestyle’ and want to ’guide people to the right path’. I have seen a member of my family spit at an interracial straight couple. My best friend is of mixed parentage, and I have received so much pushback from my family to stop being her friend because of this reason. I come from a homophobic, racist, narrow-minded family. And my mother abused me growing up – physically, emotionally and mentally. I also come from a minority racial group, where in my country we are second class citizens. We do not have equal rights, this is the law. Imagine all that and going through a sexuality crisis at school all by my lonesome.
My life was very sheltered. My mother had her own values that I didn’t agree with. She would call me useless, unwanted, heartless, ungrateful and a pariah everyday. For no reason, or a very small mistake like not completing a chore before she got back home from work, she would make me squat outside the house in the dark facing the wall for hours not knowing if snakes, scorpions, spiders, centipedes, rats or cockroaches were approaching me from behind. For hours. And over a span of years, this went on. If I opened my mouth to protest, I would get a caning, and still had to do the punishment.
I became a loner. I didn’t talk much. I tried to stay away from home as long as I possibly could. I would give excuses like I had extra classes or after school activities. During these times, I would take walks and sit by the paddy fields across the road from the house. Just thinking. Because on top of all these things going on in my head of being just a complete useless person, I was also dealing with my sexuality. I didn’t have a sense of there even being such a thing as lesbian or bisexual. I’ve never heard of these things, coming from a fishing village. In the small amount of time in a week that I did watch television, there was no representation of such things. And there was no Internet back then. Therefore there was no awareness.
So when I started developing crushes for other girls, I felt like I was doing something so wrong. I felt dirty and guilty and shameful of myself. But I couldn’t stop these feelings. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t talk to my parents. Not even my dad because he was too afraid of my mother to say anything to me. I certainly couldn’t talk to my school friends. They were an immature bunch of kids who just wanted to talk about fun things like the latest pop music or television show. I don’t blame them, they were happy kids from happy households. Our priorities were different.
Things got a little bit better when I started college. My parents moved to the town where my college was in. So I continued living with them. This is the culture in my country. Kids don’t move away from their parents at 18, we stay together as long as possible. Therein lies my problem. Because until today I have to take care of my still abusive mother who is now 81 and immobile. I have put aside my life for her, but that’s a different story. In college, I had access to the Internet, and with that came the awareness of the LGBT community. I didn’t feel so alone anymore. I didn’t feel like I was wrong. And I started a relationship with a girl I have been crushing on for a while (turns out she had been crushing on me too). We were together for about 4 years, in secret, until her parents got her married off to a man and they moved to a different country. It broke my heart, but it also opened my eyes to the awesomeness of being in a relationship with someone you love.
I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I thought I’d just share with everyone that things are bleak sometimes and it may seem like there is no hope. But in all that craziness, there will always be a small sliver or light you can hold on to. Life gives you that much. My situation is still shitty at best but I choose to believe that things will turn around for me. I did not become like my mother, and I am proud of that. I chose kindness and compassion and tolerance over what I have been taught and shown my entire life. So I know there can be some good in this world that rubs off on you and sticks with you because you know it feels right for you.
Growing up I always felt different.
This different-ness kept me from having authentic and deep relationships for most of my adolescent and young adult life, before I was even aware of what my “difference” was. I was never fully myself – I had a deep seeded anxiety that I was going to somehow let everyone know this thing that I didn’t even know about myself yet.
When I was 16 I had my first real kiss. I say real because I had kissed a handful of guys and felt a gut-wrenching anxiety before during and after each time. I remember wondering if that’s what the feeling all my friends talked about loving – so why didn’t I love it?
Well my first kiss at 16 told me why. I magically made a new best friend. She somehow rose in the rankings effortlessly in the 3 short weeks that I had known her, getting that coveted “best friend” position. Thinking back on the whole thing makes me smile because as horrifying as it was back then, it’s kinda cute to think about little gay me and how obvious it all was.
At this point I was having fleeting moments of feelings when our hands would touch, or she would lay her head on my shoulder, or she seemed to seek me out the same way I sought her out. These fleeting moments manifested as one of those jolts you get right after you’ve done something embarrassing, or you are carrying a laundry basket down a flight of stairs and think there’s one more stair beneath you but your foot hits the ground too quick. That split-second “oh f***” moment followed by that FULL body halo of heat that disappears just as quickly as it came.
Despite all the signs that were there – I continued to lie to myself and think that these touchy moments and our obsessive need to talk and be around one another and the phone bills from the literal 17,000 texts a month we sent (sorry dad… Also, did I even sleep? ALSO, yes it was long ago enough that you had to pay for texts past a certain amount. I’m showing my age – I digress.) were just the signs of best friendship. So one night she slept over. And as bffs do, we obviously went to bed forehead to forehead holding hands between us because that is just what best friends do, right? Anyway… I could feel her breath on my lips (remember… i was STILL lying to my conscious brain even at this point) and I think my heart rate spiking to the level it did made me actually black out because all of the sudden I opened my eyes and I WAS KISSING HER! I came to just after I had casually kissed my best friend and squeaked out a GOODNIGHT! and rolled over.
I didn’t sleep a M-Fing wink that night. I stared at the wall with my heart in my throat wondering WHY I JUST RUINED MY NEW BEST FRIENDSHIP. Turns out I didn’t. She kissed me the following night and thus ensued a secret 4 year love affair. Yes, I said it… 4 years.
We stayed in the closet together for those four years until I met my first gay friend in college. Coming out to even one person in my life started to make that closet my secret gf and I were in feel really claustrophobic. Eventually we parted ways and I came out to everyone I knew within the next few months. I count my blessings everyday that my coming out was easy for me because I know not everyone experiences it this way. But coming out strengthened my relationship with every single person in my life because the parts of me that no one ever touched were no longer untouchable. I stopped filtering myself (which is also a little detrimental at times) but all of my bonds became stronger because I was letting everyone love me for all of me. All the parts of me.
My story is longer than that but I’ll get off my soap-box for now.
Also to everyone terrified out there – find your one person. Even if you aren’t ready to tell the world and even if it’s a stranger online. Tell your person because even being your true self to just one person can make a huge difference. That being said – it’s okay to not be ready. When you are ready though… you’ve got an army waiting for you.
-Mo
